Author: admin

Josh entered the new coffee shop finding it a hive of activity. There was a line along the display cases and both registers were being utilized trying to keep up with flow of customers. As he moved to the back of the line, he scanned the seating area looking for a place to sit, knowing the chances of finding a table were slim. There was only one table in the middle of the room and three women moved to it just as he saw it. The outside seating along the sidewalk was worse, for the day was a surprisingly mild summer day, scattered clouds cutting the heat of the sun and a breeze from the west coming down the mountains.

He looked at his social media site checking again for anything from Tyler. It had been two weeks since the night in Charlotte and Tyler had been ignoring his texts and voicemails. He had driven by Tyler’s house once hoping he had returned, but with the garage on the rear of the house he couldn’t tell if Tyler was home or not.

Finally at the register, Josh ordered, paid, then stepped to the side to wait. He watched others take their orders and move into the seating area taking any table that came available, or out the doors to sit somewhere outside, knowing most were probably taking a public bench or sitting on the low retaining wall around the planter across the street.

“Josh!” the guy behind the counter called out.

Josh took his order, slipped a straw into it, and headed for the door for all the tables were occupied. On the sidewalk, he surveyed the seating provided by the coffee shop seeing all were taken. He looked across the street at the benches, then to his left. He froze, not sure what he should do. Coming toward him was Jonathan Robbins, Tyler’s father. There was a desire to flee, to take off to his right and find someplace to sit, but he couldn’t move his feet as Jonathan got closer and closer.

“You’re Joshua Davis,” said Jonathan.

“Yes, sir.”

“Can we talk?”

“You want to talk to me?”

“If you don’t mind. We can go to the garden center and sit in my office.”

“Can we sit somewhere else?” Josh replied.

“Sure, let’s go sit along the trail,” Jonathan replied, referring to the walking trail that ran through town.

It was surreal, sitting with Jonathan Robbins, Tyler’s father, on a bench at the edge of the walking trail. Bird song came from the trees and up on the bridge children’s voices, loud and joyful as they rode over on bicycles. Fifty yards down the trail a couple approached, a slow stroll while holding hands. Josh avoided looking at Jonathan instead leaning forward resting arms on knees and staring down at the ground. All he could think was this was the person who beat up Tyler and caused him to run away. To rush back to Raleigh where he worked part time and went to college.

“I don’t know what Tyler told you but…”

“You beat him up!” Josh interrupted, rounding around to stare down Jonathan.

“What? No, no, that isn’t true.”

“He was bruised and had a black eye.”

“But…” Jonathan stammered, then looked up and sighed. “We did get into an argument. He accused me of abusing his mother and making her leave.”

“Didn’t you?”

“No. She…was…a narcissist. She struggled with showing empathy and knew it was hurting Tyler. She tried but…we did argue, far too much and I know Tyler heard it. I thought we had found a good compromise but one day I came home to find her gone.”

“You don’t know where she went?”

“I got a letter about two months later from Memphis but when I tried to find her, she had moved on. She had left Memphis the day she mailed the letter.”

“Does Tyler know this?”

Jonathan didn’t reply.

“And the fight between Tyler and you?”

“He found out I rummaged through his room and accused me of being homophobic when he saw I had found a couple of books, but that wasn’t it. I was looking for a letter, or something that would tell me where Amber had gone. I assumed she might be in contact with him. When he came home that day he was already agitated, really upset and we ended up arguing about his mother, he demanding to know what I had done to make her leave and me trying to foolishly protect him. I know I was just making him angry…so very angry. He charged at me, and we went down on the coffee table. It collapsed under us and then we crashed into a side table, and I tried to push him away. I pushed out and hit him in the eye with the palm of my hand. I didn’t mean to hit him like that. He wouldn’t let me look after him. Not surprised he went to James.”

“What about him being gay?”

Jonathan shook his head. “I don’t care about that. Boy, I’ve really fucked this up. I did tell him the truth. About Amber and why she left, and that is when he stormed out and went back to Raleigh.”

“So, he does know the truth.”

“Yes, and…did he say anything about it?”

“Said his family was messed up, and he was too. Told me to forget about him.”

“Dammit. Tyler…”

“Do you have his address in Raleigh?”

“Yes,” Jonathan replied, taking out his cellphone. “Can I get your number? I assume you’re going to Raleigh to talk to him. I’d appreciate it if you let me know if he is doing okay.”

Despite everything, Josh looked at Jonathan with a smile.

Josh drove down the street that separated campus from a commercial area. Restaurants, bars, and shops that catered to the students and faculty lined the street. Since it was summer there were only a few students strolling the sidewalks. He looked for a place to park, knowing parking on campus was a problem for visitors and he would rather walk after the drive from Lincolnton. At the next side street, he turned and moved into the neighborhood until parking was allowed on the street and he pulled to the curb behind a truck.

A few minutes later, Josh was walking across the campus feeling like an intruder. Someone who wasn’t supposed to be there. James had told him not worry about it, that no one would question him or even care. He passed one building after the next until finally standing in front of Morrocroft Hall. From outside with the sun reflecting off the windows, it looked dark and empty, but the front door swung open, and a guy came out. Josh found himself staring for the guy was shirtless, wearing just jogging shorts. The guy had average good looks and an average build, but to Josh it was sexually appealing, the simple nature of his masculine form.

Josh stood to the side and let the guy pass, then he climbed the steps up to the front doors. The lobby was empty. He could hear music playing, but it was muted and from where it came, he couldn’t tell. In front of him were the two elevators and he moved to them, pressing the button to summon one.

At the third floor the doors slid open. Josh hesitated, took a deep breath, then stepped out into an empty corridor. He heard a television, and saw a door open a short distance down the hall. He pulled up the address on his phone again, worried he would mix up the dorm room number. Then he moved down the corridor looking at the number on each door until he came to 315. It was closed and no sound was coming from within. He knocked, then waited. After a long few seconds, he knew Tyler wasn’t inside.

Tyler was jogging around campus, pushing himself to the point of exhaustion. It was one of the only ways he could make himself not obsess over what happened back in Charlotte. He knew he should not have done it, but he had to admit to himself he did like Josh, felt attracted toward him. When he was honest, he had to admit he had been since his senior year in high school and Josh had turned sixteen. The way he had grown tall and filled out enough to reveal his masculine nature. Tyler had, up to that point, obsessed over James. It was James he had developed fantasies of a relationship, knowing it would never happen. And all through this futile attraction, Josh had been there, on the periphery. In hindsight, it should have been obvious to him that it was Josh who was like him. The one who desired the companionship of another male. The looks of longing, eyes following his every move, or when he was shirtless, admittedly showing off his body, those eyes looking at him with desire.

Then to have his fantasy become reality, to have Josh in bed with him. The sex had been better than he ever imagined. At times it aroused him to think of it, but it also pained him, broke his heart to think he didn’t deserve Josh, that he was too broken.

Broken.

What did he even mean by that? He felt torn about his guilt. Was it his fault his parents divorced? Was it his fault his mother had issues that made her distant, someone who could not be the mother he wanted? As a boy he didn’t understand it and with his mother trying to overcome her faults, they had managed a false sense of security in their relationship. But it didn’t last, and he knew there was no way it could have lasted. But he felt guilt, and felt like maybe, in some way, he was his mother’s son; broken and lacking something of his humanity. Or that is what he told himself, even as his heart broke with his leaving Josh in that hotel room. He felt his humanity, felt desire, want, felt empathy toward Josh, fearful of hurting him worse than he had already done. He didn’t feel like he suffered from his mother’s condition, but his irrational fear made it difficult to think otherwise.

He rounded the College of Design and headed back west along Stinson Drive. He followed the road as it snaked between buildings then ran straight until at Cox Hall. He turned right and ran across the large circular grass area, following the winding walks, then around one building or another until his dorm came into view. He slowed, then walked, hands on hips to the dorm as he allowed his body to slow down, his breathing return to normal.

He entered the building with sweat cascading down his torso further soaking his jogging shorts. The interior felt frigid at first, the air-conditioned air quickly cooling his skin, and he suddenly wanted a shower to get cleaned up.

The elevator took forever to arrive on the ground floor, something he had never grew accustom, always impatient for its arrival. The doors slid open, and he stepped in, hitting the button for the third floor. He stood in the middle of the cab not wanting to let his sweaty body touched the walls and watched the light change from one, to two, then three and felt the cab come to a stop. The doors slid open, and he stepped out and headed to his room.

After few steps he looked ahead and froze. Sitting on the floor at his door was Josh. It took his breath away and he stumbled, then gathered himself together and approached him. As he neared, Josh looked up and watched him draw near. There was that smile. The curl of lips and dimples forming on either side. The eyes followed his approach and softened when he stopped a few feet away.

“What are you doing here?” asked Tyler.

“You know why.”

“You should go home.”

“Let’s go inside and talk,” Josh replied, ignoring Tyler telling him to leave.

Tyler sighed then waited for Josh to get to his feet and move to the side. He unlocked then pushed open the door, motioning for Josh to enter. The room was very dimly lit, the blinds at the lone window closed allowing only the smallest slivers of light to enter the room. Josh went to the desk and rolled the chair out and sat. Tyler moved to his bed on the opposite side of the room and sat, pushing back until he could lean against the wall.

“Tyler…” Josh uttered then hesitated, working out what to say. Tyler sat silent, waiting. “I talked to your father.”

“You what?”

“I talked to your father. He said he didn’t abuse you.  Is that true?”

Tyler stared at Josh, then slowly nodded.

“Why did you lie about it?”

“I was trying to get him isolated from everyone and…”

“And in turn, cause you to get isolated too.”

“Something like that.”

“He told me about your mother,” Josh whispered.

Tyler wiped his eyes, then looked toward the closed windows as if he could see outside.

“She has problems,” Tyler uttered.

“And you think you do too.”

“I’m her son. I have parts of her in me and…”

“But you’re not like her in the way you fear. You have empathy. You care about others. Look at what you’ve done to protect people, thinking they needed to be shielded from you. It’s nonsense.”

“What’s nonsense?”

“We need to be protected from you.”

“Do you really think you could have a happy life with someone like me?”

“Happy…” Josh whispered the word, rolled it around in his mind, considered the fairytale it spoke of. “Not all the time. No one can expect such a perfect life. But I could feel contentment, a sense of security in life, if I had someone to share it.”

“And you think I’m that person.”

“I hope so. I willing to find out.”

Tyler smiled.

Josh leaned forward, elbows on knees, and continued. “I want to go out with you. I want us to go on dates. Dinner and a movie, or lunch in a park, or a weekend at the beach or in the mountains. I want to learn more about you, to really know you as much as one person can know another. Don’t you want that?”

Tyler stared at Josh and seemed to be barely breathing. After a long pause, he finally responded.

“Yeah…I’d like that.”

“Then why run from me?”

“Because…my family…mother…”

“That isn’t you. Yes, you have aspects of your mother, but I’ve not seen the bad aspects.”

“What will your parents say? What about James?”

“I’d like to think my parents will accept it, but whether, or not they accept it is not going to govern what I do. I’m going to live my own life. And James…” Josh smiled at Tyler, “well, he’s been supportive”

“Dad will freak out.”

“You know that isn’t true.”

“I guess.”

Josh eased up and moved to the bed. He climbed over it and sat next to Tyler. He took his hand in both of his and held it. The room became silent as they sat next to each other. Time passed, slowly, as the world outside continued. A guy came back to the dorm, backpack over one shoulder. Another jogged across campus. On the floor below four were sitting on the floor and bed of a room playing video games. In a room down the corridor, another was communicating through his email with a girlfriend who was on the west coast, vacationing with her family.

Josh lay on his back, shirt unbuttoned and pushed open revealing his torso. His jeans and boxers lay on the floor, where Tyler had tossed them. Josh felt the smooth skin of Tyler’s chest against the back of his legs as Tyler moved over him. His legs pushed down until knees touched his chest and his ass lifted from the bed. Against them he felt Tyler’s undulating body, the pressure of a push, then the relief as the body rose. He clutched the bed as he felt Tyler onto top and within, cock boring into his depths. It was the sensation that drove his own arousal, made his cock so hard it drooled onto his stomach. The slow push into his depths and the tug outward.

“Tyler,” Josh uttered as he put his hands on Tyler’s waist. He felt the smoothness of the skin, firm and flexing with the movement of their sex. He felt the heat of it, and he squeezed, fingers digging in, desperate, wanting, a physical pleading. “Fuck me,” he uttered pushing upward to take Tyler as deeply as he could.

Tyler held himself up on his hands and increased his pace, thrusting into Josh harder and harder, his pace quickening along with his arousal. His body grew hot, feverish, with beads of sweat forming. It trickled down his face and chest. Some dripped hotly down on Josh. It smeared between them making their skin slick against the other.

Tyler fucked. Fucked as hard as he could. All his pent-up desires and needs unwinding with his exertions until he was exhausted.

“Roll over,” Tyler whispered as he pulled free and got on his knees.

Josh got on his knees and elbows and looked over his shoulder as Tyler moved over him. He watched Tyler kiss his way up his back and felt the slick chest slide over it. He felt hands rub around his waist, up his stomach and chest, holding him in a tight embrace. Then they guided him to lay on his stomach. He felt Tyler between his legs, then cock rub over his ass, press against it, then Tyler put it to his loosened opening and sink into his depths.

“I do want you…so much,” Tyler uttered as he began to fuck again. He pushed inward slowly then tugged outward, over and over.

Josh felt every penetrating push into his depths. The fullness of Tyler’s cock buried inside him. It made his own rock hard, and he undulated his hips, pushing upward to take Tyler and pushing down to feel his own cock pressed into the bed. He undulated in rhythm with Tyler, the two moving as one. It was animalistic, primitive, their movement. Skin glistened wetly and lungs sucked in air, desperate for oxygen in overheated bodies.

“Tyler…please…” Josh uttered as he clutched the bed and pushed upward.

Tyler increased his pace, lifting himself on hands and knees. He thrust harder, faster, his need for release overwhelming. Hips smacked against ass. Moans and grunts echoed in the small room. The bed squeaked with their exertions.

“Fuck me…fuck me, harder,” Josh pleaded.

Tyler piston cock inside Josh at a rapid pace. Thrust with all his might, hammering hips against ass. He fucked until his muscles burned. Then he finally felt it, the sweet release that coursed through his body. His cock grew harder, thicker, as he shoved it into Josh’s depths. He ground his hips against Josh’s ass and came.

Josh rolled over next to Tyler, cock hard and leaking. Tyler took it in hand and slowly stroked it. Teasingly, toyed with the wet head with his fingers. Josh shivered and tried to pull away.

“Tyler, stop.”

“No,” Tyler replied, suddenly moving around. He straddled Josh and pushed his half-hard cock wetly up the smooth chest. He rubbed his ass over Josh’s hard cock feeling it flex beneath him. He rocked his hips back and forth until wet from it.

“Tyler,” Josh uttered, his voice full of need and want.

Tyler rose on his knees and took Josh in hand. He moved down to the hard cock and rubbed his opening over the wet head until Josh was pushing upward. Then he lowered himself down on it. He shuddered at the feel of penetration. But it wasn’t enough, and he eased down further, letting it fill him. Hands came down on his thighs and he felt the fingers dig into the tightening muscle. The grip spoke to their desperation. He moved upward, then down, slowly, feeling every inch tug and pull at his opening. He felt every inch inside him, the way it made him feel the fullness of penetration. As it stroked his desires, he increased his pace. As Josh pleaded and begged him to fuck harder, he increased his pace again. And once again, the bed rocked and squeaked beneath them, and their exertions overheated their bodies until skin glistened wetly.

Then Josh was shuddering, shoving upward with every ejaculation as he came.

Josh rested his head against the cool tile as the hot spray of the shower rained down over them. Hands held his waist and cock bore into his depths. Tyler moved inside him with a steady rhythm. A push inward until bodies smacked together, then a tug outward. Over and over and he stroked his own cock in rhythm to their fuck. Tyler leaned against his back and kissed along his spine until at the back of the neck. A kiss to the skin and the rake of a nose through his wet hair. The hands moved from his waist. They moved around to his undulating stomach, then one rubbed upward over his chest and the other moved downward, through pubic hair until it knocked his own hand away and took him. He braced himself on the wall and gave himself entirely to Tyler. He took his cock and let the hands manipulate him until he was crying out. He shuddered, then thrust through the fist, spraying the wall with his second load.

Tyler held him in a tight embrace and shuddered with his own release.

It was only two years. Just two short years but so much had changed for Josh. He drove into Lincolnton on his summer break. He would return in the fall a Junior. He drove through the commercial area near 321 and soon came into downtown. He circled the courthouse while thinking of his conversation that morning with James. Finished with college, James was in Charlotte looking for a place to live, for that was where his girlfriend had gotten a job. Their parents were happy to have him close, making comments they had worried both of their sons would leave once finished with college. He knew they thought he would leave the area for some city far away. But it was two years before he would graduate and there was a lot that could happen in the meantime.

He turned west back on Main Street and drove to the outskirts of town. He saw the sign for Wild Rose Garden Shop and slowed to turn in. It was a Saturday, and he knew Tyler would be working with his father in the shop. Tyler had graduated and come back to Lincolnton, biding his time until Josh got his degree. Then they would decide the next step in their lives. Josh pictured them living in an urban area, one full of diversity and acceptance, each working in their field of study. He pictured an apartment and a dog they would walk in parks on weekends. He pictured a normal life, cooking dinner together and evenings spent watching some old movie or sitting silently together each lost in a novel. He pictured waking up next to Tyler every morning.

Josh pulled into the parking lot and made his way inside. There were flowering plants in decorative pots lining the front window. Inside there was a sale table covered in seed for anyone wanting to start a late crop and down every aisle the products one might need to garden or maintain a yard. He scanned the room until he saw on the far side a man standing in an aisle looking down. Tyler stood up and held out a pair of gloves. He watched the transaction between the customer and Tyler. The man nodded as Tyler spoke, then he took the gloves from him. Tyler pointed to a wall display for safety gear. Eye goggles, ear protection, knee pads and coveralls with reinforced legs and chest pads. The man moved toward it and Tyler turned to head back to the counter when he stopped. He saw Josh and smiled.

A cove for three

The first thing I did once I was in Marlon’s house was approaching my brother and kiss his mouth again.

-I’m so happy now that I finally understand you both and respect you that I would be kissing either of you my whole life. Maybe you won’t believe me, Marlon, if I tell you that I don’t feel gay, but I love it with dad and you.

-That’s the same I feel, Rodney. Totally sure that I will love girls my whole life, now I’m always horny having sex with dad. And with you if you want.

All that time we were kissing and suddenly Marlon asked me.

-Well, Rodney, I’m always totally nude at home, that’s something I discovered in August and I still wanna do. Would you mind if I strip now?

-I’d love to see you naked the whole day and I also wanna be comfortably naked with you. I know I will have a boner all day but I’m sure you will not mind.

So Marlon started to remove everything and I copied him and took off exactly the same pieces of clothes he was removing. Finally, when pulling down our briefs, we were both totally hard but we smiled and I kissed Marlon’s mouth again. And I had something to ask him.

-I’d love to see that dildo you’ve used for yourself before being fucked by dad.

-I’ll bring it now.

And he moved to his room and I had then a glorious perspective of his ass, an ass I would certainly like to fuck; now I was sure and I really believed I just had to ask my brother and he would allow me. But still I would not take advantage of that hot boy who returned now with the dildo in his hand.

-Would you like to see me fucking myself with it, Rodney?

-I have a very different idea, Marlon. I won’t hide you that I’d love to fuck both dad and you. But the same I did with blowjobs I will do for fucking, I mean I would only fuck you both when both of you have also fucked me. Meanwhile I want to have the benefit of a dildo opening me up, as dad told me you did. So I’d rather be fucked by that dildo right now and it will be hotter if it’s you that fucks me with it. I know you will be gentle and careful. Please Marlon, get the dildo and fuck me.

I went to the couch and took a comfortable position to be inserted the dildo. Marlon was harder and harder as he came towards me and he kissed my lips first so I didn’t see it but felt it. The tip of that dildo was already inside me. If I felt any pain, my desire to be soon fucked by that hottie, made me endure it and I told my brother.

-Go on, Marlon. It doesn’t hurt much and I wanna soon be fucked by dad and you. You are being gentle.

-We can take all the time in the world, Rodney, or have many more attempts. I don’t need to open you up today.

-The feel of having your dildo in my ass is making me really horny. Please go on and enter me a bit more.

Sweetly and carefully the dildo was getting deeper in my ass at the time my handsome brother kissed me and touched me all over. He also started jacking me off. I repeatedly told him not to stop and keep on fucking me deeper. Now it was really deep but I wasn’t feeling pain and I noticed how horny Marlon was getting and his horny eyes made me cum and instantly a first load fell on my brother’s house. Seeing me, he also came even if he was not touching himself. Now I was sure of what I needed.

-I won’t wait to any other day. Fuck me now, Marlon, fuck me with your dick, please my sexy brother, I want you to fuck me today.

-Then I’ll try, but of course soon you’ll ask me to stop.

At the mention of the word “stop”, the tip of my brother’s dick was already entering me. I had spent my whole life always believing I would never be fucked but the feel of my own brother fucking me made me crazy  and I started touching that sexy boy’s nude chest and running my hands down his perfect body.

-Never stop now, Marlon. If I still feel a slight pain, the notion that my own brother’s dick is up my ass now is so exciting that I don’t care about the pain. Keep on fucking me and get as deep as you can, for you will certainly cum in my ass.

It soon was a perfect sex melody. Also sure that I would always need girls, I also sensed this was the best moment in my entire sexual life. Marlon’s dick was entering more and more and my ass stretched for him naturally as I moaned and yelled. The sound of my voice was silenced soon for of course my brother was kissing me all the time. There was no spot in my body that he did not touch. Constantly kissed, being sensuously groped and his dick up my butt was an opera of lust. I intuited how my brother had learnt to move his dick inside an ass and not hurt it. His cock was progressively in but he moved it so well that instead of feeling more pain he was only making every pore of my ass accustomed to a dick.

-And there I go, Rodney –it was an uncontrolled fountain that started raining my now not virgin hole for the first time as my dick, all the time in Marlon’s fist, also became a hose staining again his living room floor.

-Now I hope that you too will fuck me soon, Rodney.

-Are we gonna sleep together tonight?

-We will if you want. So I suggest having dinner now without our clothes and later going to my bed and you will fuck me there.

I agreed with him and he said.

-Wonderful, Rodney. Oh, how I love you brother.

He had cooked lasagna tonight and we started to eat it and were rock hard all dinner. I would have liked to jack Marlon off but I wanted to keep our cums for bed later. But all dinner time we were touching each other with no shame. Finally he stood up to do the washing up and I reveled at the beauty of that hot ass that I would soon fuck.

We entered his bedroom and were soon touching and kissing before entering my brother’s bed. Finally we were in and continued touching, rubbing both our bodies together, both mouths voraciously kissing each other.

And then I saw him turning and asking me to fuck him, reminding me it would not hurt him. What with the dildo and dad’s cock, he was sufficiently opened up. I told him I wanted him to turn for I wanted to look into his eyes as I fucked him.

Even though I knew it would not hurt him, I entered carefully. It was the first time in my life I was fucking an ass, but no, it was not just an ass, it was entering my sexy, sweet and brave brother. I could soon perceive his aroused moans as my dick battled inside him and in that position I kissed his mouth once and again and his eyes told me this is what he wanted.

-I hope you never repent, Rodney, I’d have you fucking me every so often. Oh, how I love my brother. I have an idea, brother. I could give you a key and you could have for yourself the left part of the house and come here whenever you want. You could live in the left part and at nights you can sleep there or sleep with me, as you prefer. But I also wanna sleep with dad some nights.

-And me too, my wonderful brother. If you really mean it, I can accept your key and live here whenever I’m on holidays and sleep with you when you’re not sleeping with dad and sleeping with him when you sleep alone. This can be a cove for three, we will always swim naked and live naked most of the day.

-And I would also like you to pose for some of my paintings, Rodney. They will have other faces but I’d love to immortalize your body.

-Very good –I said already cumming for the first time in my brother’s sexy ass.

-Now we could 69, what do you think?

-Perfect, Marlon.

And since I had just cum, my dick could hold it now for twenty minutes. What a good taste a dick had. And my brother’s such a handsome boy that blowing him is heaven. His dick also resisted as long as mine and we had to finally cum both together, after which we kissed lustfully and I reminded him of my promise to share with him now this house and this cove. I had already planned that tomorrow I would tell my father all I had done and would sleep with him. At last I hugged my brother and we both slept soundly for the first time naked together.

The next day, Marlon suggested having breakfast in dad’s house, but we could leave all our clothes here and head naked to his house. It was wonderful to walk naked on the sand, having my naked brother walking beside me and holding his hand and sometimes stopping in order to kiss each other.

When we finally rang the bell, Allen Culver was greatly surprised to see both his children naked. He just had his briefs on and seeing us, his dick went some inches higher.

-Come in –he told us. And right then, he removed his briefs and now we had three stiff flagpoles as coffee was being made. We took them to the table with some cakes and as we had breakfast, Marlon said.

-I wanted the three of us to have breakfast together and later I will leave you both alone. Rodney is the same as us now, dad. But he will tell you.

And then I spent a good long while telling my father all I had done yesterday with Marlon. He was greatly surprised when he knew my brother had fucked me with the dildo first and later with his very dick and I had also fucked him in bed. And I also told him our last 69. All this I was telling my father as I was masturbating him under the table. And of course, when he saw what I was doing, he also started to jack me off. Marlon knew perfectly well what we were doing, but wanted to leave us alone enjoying this intimacy. When finally Allen came, I also came and it was then that Marlon said goodbye. Now I’d spend the whole day with my naked father. I didn’t even have some clothes near; they were in Marlon’s house.

As soon as we were alone I got on all fours and asked my father to fuck me.

-My brother has already fucked me. Now it’s my father’s turn. Come on, dad, do it. I’m sure you also want me to fuck you but I will only do it when you have cum in my ass first.

He also told me he wanted to be looking all the time into my eyes, so I quickly turned, and smiling at me, Allen Culver finally pointed his hard dick to my ass and dared enter me.

-Feels so good, dad.

-You’re as sexy as Marlon, Rodney. I cannot tell you how happy I am, not only for your respect, but also for having joined us. This is only games that we like playing, funny games which make us cum at the time they make us more united, always wanting our relatives’ fun.

-You’re right, dad, keep on fucking me –and it was me then, who desiring the same intimacy I had with Marlon yesterday, approached my father’s lips and merged with him in the same sweetness. But that bliss made my father cum maybe too soon. And still with his dick inside me, he asked me to fuck him now. I nodded.

Once he had withdrawn his dick from my ass, he took the same position I had been in before and securely I drove my penis in a new family’s ass. Allen’s ass was not so young, but was just as sexy as Marlon’s and I wanted to fuck my father eternally. As I was moving my dick in a soft steady rhythm inside his ass, my father was speaking.

-One of us could find his girl one day but meanwhile it’s absolutely perfect to play with one another and it’s wonderful to know that on holidays you’ll live in Marlon’s house too. Well, not only Marlon’s, now it should be called Marlon and Rodney’s house.

-So it will be dad. And now forgive me. I have to cum.

He told me he loved knowing he had his other son’s semen also inside him, as a blessing that everything was all right between us.

That night I went to bed with Allen Culver for the first time. And it soon became a habit among us three never to sleep alone again whenever we were on the beach. I soon started to live in the left area of Marlon’s house and I only sleep alone when my brother’s sleeping with my father. All three of us continue having sex with girls from time to time but always with one another. Family sex is so good that we wanna spend our whole lives having fun together, sometimes the three of us at the same time.

I was soon a model for Marlon’s paintings, now equally female and male nude mainly. Since my face is not in them, he can sell his paintings.

Family love, family sex, that’s what we got. Now I’m really glad that though only to be read by myself, I’ve written all this.

---

Freedom can move your life and it can be seen even in the hardest conditions, together with love and friendship, happiness and beauty. Have a look at the life of eight beggars who live together at: https://luces-delatierra.blogspot.com/ or in English at: https://lightsoftheearth.blogspot.com/

It was late April of my senior year in high school when after classes ended, I got in my jeep and headed to my parents ranch out of town. I had not had time to masturbate or get with my fuck buddy for the past week. Horny as hell driving my jeep over a rather rough bumpy dirt road caused my cock to begin getting hard. As an 18 year old constantly horny young jock made worse by 7 days without shooting a load it became beyond control–I had to masturbate and relieve my unbearable lust for an orgasm. 

I came around a well known curve in the road where there was a nice pull over spot under a big maple tree. I was sure this was a private place where I would not get caught. I pull over and turn off my jeep, push back my seat back, unzip my pants, fell a big wet spot on my briefs, pull out my leaking rock hard aching throbbing big shinny precum covered cock, spit all over it and begin to wildly jerk that horny dick getting ready to dump a big load in my hand. I feel so aroused and love the feeling of man handling my giant cock for the first time in a week. 

As I moan and jerk faster and faster with my eyes closed so I can think about my gorgeous fuck buddy who fucks the hell out of my man pussy every time we are alone. His name is Gavin, a hot 18 year old high school senior horny jock who is the quarterback on our high school football team. He is a devoted top who loves to fuck me, while he talks dirty calling me his fucking slut and whore while he drills my ass. Man he is the best fucker with a gorgeous build. He weighs a hard ripped 180 pounds, dirty blond curly hair, deep blue sexy lustful blue eyes, stands 5 feet and 10 inches, smooth hairless body, and a magic 10 inch uncut cock that knows how to send me into outer space while drilling my fucking man pussy in every possible position know to man. He breeds me raw and has dumped gallons of cum in my bowels. 

We are in the closet as his father is a minster with a huge congregation in town and his mother is the church organist. The fact his parents are so proper makes me even more turned on knowing our mischief secret. Gavin and I have never had sex with anyone else that makes it special.

Gavin often says to me as we get ready to fuck: “Hey Darin, I love how sexy you are. You’re so hot as the top star on our rugby team. I love we share the sane birthday now 18 years old. Man I love those huge hard hips and thighs that have been developed from playing rugby. I also love that muscled body including your red head, light fuzz red pubic hair, light smooth body tone as a red head, love that magic big 9 inch cock to suck, the taste of your cum as it spews out of that large mushroom cock head and wide open piss slit that shoots massive cum loads down my throat, that 6 feet and 4 inch frame,  the wonderful hunk of a body weighing 210 pounds developed  from working on the ranch and rugby jock, and of course you really know how to push out those big red lips and wildly French kiss.” 

As I continue to day dream of being fucked by Gavin and getting close to coming, I almost jump out of my skin when I hear a dude say: “Hey man, fuck yea that is some handsome red hot blood filled cock. Do you need some help with that giant cock. I’d love to take care of your needs.”

Fuck I am caught with my cock in my hand with sloppy precum on my shinny dick and my fingers.

“OH FUCK MAN, WHO ARE YOU AND WHERE DID YOU COME FROM. GEE I AM SO EMBARRASSED. SHIT YOU HAVE CAUGHT ME IN A VERY EMBARRASSING POSITION. AGAIN WHO ARE YOU? BY THE WAY MY NAME IS DARIN.”

As I look at this older dude, he really turns me on as I continue to hold my diamond hard cock in my hand now hornier than ever. He  turns out to be a gorgeous 35 year old African American stud that has just retired as a NFL defensive back. He has coal black breaded hair, deep piercing black eyes, handsome very dark skin, huge arms and biceps showing as he is only wearing a pair of gym shorts and tennis shoes. His hgue somewhat dark hairy muscled chest and nipples that look like a woman’s big breasts. His muscled ripped stomach and abs are to die for and his legs and thighs are the size of a tree trunk. WOW he has a huge bulge in those almost see through gym shorts. Man he must have a giant dick and massive balls full of semen ready to be unloaded in my ass. I learn that he is 6 feet and 9 inches tall and weighs a ripped 250 pounds.

At this moment, I know that I want him to take charge and fuck me. My cock begins to pulsates in my hand and I begin rapid breathing. Although I love my fuck buddy, I have to have this giant. This is one chance of a life time.

The huge dude can see I am going to be clay in his hands. “Well Darin, I can see I have you so horny for me. My name is Butch. I am often called Butch the Killer. Do you want me to fuck you here or up on the hill where I live. You want daddy don’t you? Are you a young virgin lusting after big Daddy and his 12 inch uncut cock with big balls full of Daddy’s baby making white thick cum just for your ass. I bet that pink smooth man pussy would love to take my manhood up that puckering pussy. I bet that pussy is so tight that my cock would love the feeling of ripping that pussy wide open. I love the feel of a tight young man ass and the way it makes my cock feel. What is your pleasure? I can see that you are filled with lust for me. Now tell me what you want. Time is passing.” 

I have never been more horny and yet almost ready to pass out. I feel shivers up and down my body and I can hardly get any words out of my mouth but finally manage to say: “Fuck yea Butch, I want you to fuck me and no I am not a virgin. I have a hot 18 year old fuck buddy in high school. But I bet you can teach me things that he and I never dream.  Oh Butch that huge cock might rip my ass apart. I don’t think I can take all of it.  Fuck take me here in my jeep. Lets make it quick as I am already late for dinner with my parents. Man I want you Daddy.”

I get out of the jeep and open up the back of the jeep. Butch takes off his gym shorts revealing a massive big black 12 inch very thick tool that is beginning to spew very impressive amounts of precum on that huge cock head with a very wide piss slit. I think to myself how many men pussies have been able to take all that dick deep in their bowels?

Butch knowing I have very little time has me take off my pants and briefs. He pushes me down on my knees and orders me to suck his massive cock. I kiss it, spit on it over and over as Butch holds the back of my head. Soon I feel him use his huge hands to push my mouth down on that giant dick. I feel that huge black cock go down my throat half way before I gag spewing salvia all over that hard black tasty cock. I suck that cock for some five minutes smelling and tasting my first big black dick and precum. I am almost ready to shoot a load as I enjoy that amazing dick and wow his precum taste salty and yet very sweet like nothing I have ever tasted from my buddy’s cum or my own cum. It is so different and yet very good.

After five minutes of my blow job, Butch pulls his cock out of my mouth and says: “Well you little slut, we don’t have any more time. Put that fucking head, chest and stomach facing the jeep and lower your body. Now spread those fucking legs and use your fucking hands to spread those ass cheeks and get ready for the ride of your life.” 

I did as I was ordered to do very excited to take Daddy’s big black cock deep in my man pussy. I feel his huge red hot leaking cock head press hard against my ass entrance and with a couple of hard thrusts he manages to get pass my ass lips and fuck yea he drives that rock hard hot cock all the way inside my tight ass. He begins to fuck me rough as I feel the pain. But soon the pain goes away and I cannot believe how magic he uses his black cock to explore every inch of my man pussy. I feel that cock head push into my ass walls, deep in my ass and holy fuck he uses that cock head to drive hard into my eager prostate causing me to scream and moan as I begin to beg; “OH DADDY FUCK YOUR SLUT, DADDY FUCK ME, OH DADDY DON’T STOP. MAN I LOVE THE FEEL OF YOUR BIG DADDY BLACK DICK FUCKING MY PUSSY SO HARD. HARDER DADDY, HARDER DADDY, OH DADDY THAT FEELS SO GREAT.”

The feel of my tight ass clamping down hard on that big black cock and my begging him to fuck me harder was too much for Daddy. I feel his cock head expand in my ass, he grunts loudly and uses one more mighty thrust as he erupts with a massive volcanic load of his man seed deep in my ass. I count at least eight major eruptions before he is spent and pulls out that still big hard cock. He get down and sucks his cum out of my ass and feeds it to me before we both put on our clothes just before a car drives by and the driver waves at Butch, a friend he knows.

As I start my jeep, he leans in and gives me a sloppy kiss with those huge thick juicy wet  lips and says: “Hey you hot slut, if you want to do this again you know where I live.”

As I drive away I can hardly wait to share this fuck with my fuck buddy. Maybe he would like not only the details but maybe we can visit big Butch together some day.

(Hey my buddy sexy JosephMD, I hope this story gets you off big time, Love, Eric)

Oswald C. Butler is from New Jersey, USA. His all-American face is a stunning combination of wholesomeness and sexy allure. He doesn’t have an athletic body, rock solid from head to toe, but you can easily imagine his penis growing turgid in his shorts. Surprisingly, he had sex for the first time only in his mid-thirties. Sex with someone. Not in his imagination. And it was with a guy.

You could say that Oswald was well raised, especially by his father who did not know what was really going on behind his back. Oswald had discovered his dad’s straight stash of sex magazines. That’s how he saw a cock fucking… a woman. The female partner was of no interest, he wanted the cock. He has loved porn since this “initiation”. He likes to say that he has been “100% certifiable gay” as soon as he saw a hard rod in action. A mouth-watering dick did the trick!

Oswald discovered his love for a cock by watching straight porn! He found his dad’s 8mm loops when he was 16-years-old. They were straight but the cocks were amazing. The teenager knew that he was definitely into oral sex. Seeing the man’s face when his cock shot ropes of jizz confirmed what the teenager wanted. No woman’s pussy was needed; his mouth was the perfect deposit of man juice.

He masturbated imagining that a guy was face-fucking him. Later on, he found out that tight leather gloves on his shaft can trigger a hot feeling. That became his first fetish. At the beginning, Oswald’s cock-sucking was anything but subtle. Then again, who needs subtlety when you have a hot guy milking your man meat with his mouth?

Oswald’s imagination obviously led him to think of ass play. He could not envisage any other position than bottom. He lost his virginity in a guy’s basement. A friend lubed him up and stuck his dick in the love tunnel. Fuck! It burned like hell but he adored it hard and deep, when the pain of penetration turns into the pleasure of total invasion.

Being a very oral guy, Oswald quickly became addicted to rimming. Not just a quick tongue-fuck, much more. He would bury his nose in a man’s crack to savour the pungent, tangy scent. Best aroma on earth! Before starting to eat out a honey pot, he would dig his nose deep down under the full moon, and lick the balls. His tongue would gradually lap at the hole, teasing and taunting it. There is no complete sexual enjoyment if Oswald can not, at one point, ram his tongue deeper and deeper into a guy’s fleshy pecker.  

Oswald is an expert in giving a blowjob. He is truly gifted with his mouth. His tongue first sucks eagerly at the still semisoft helmet head and piss slit. When blowing in full earnest, he can hit all the right nerves along the side of any dick. Suckling the sensitive tip of a hard piece of meat makes his partner moan and squirm with pleasure. When a crutch is sweaty like a soiled jockstrap after a long game that went overtime, the odor of the locker room drives Oswald crazy and makes him slurp away at a dick with abandon, you could say like a gay demon!

Sex is give and take. In return to blowing a guy, Oswald likes to have his partner engage into nipple play. He enjoys a guy’s hand clad into a tight leather glove to caress and pinch his round, red nipples. They grow harder and a tongue tickle makes them pointy and sensitive. He imagines himself giving milk to a baby, except the bay is 40-years old and has a hard cock, juicy for sure!

Oswald not only likes to cuddle, kiss, caress, suck and rim a man, he enjoys a cock up his ass, a hard raw rod pounding his flesh inner tube. An ass canal just needs to be greased up properly; it’s a cookie jar waiting for an ever-mounting pitch of mindless, frenetic energy. Oswald dreams of men lined up to penetrate his unyielding sex donut and push deeper inside him. He wants to be penetrated by a spear capable of milking his prostate with each prod.

Safe sex is recommended, but some still like it raw or natural. Oswald gets hard just thinking of the surge of semen erupting from a piss tube into his enthusiastic fuck hole. His dreams display shots of man juice, volleys of jizz, bucket-loads of cum in his arse that has the shape of a mammoth pumpkin. He likes to imagine that his partners have thick shapely legs from the squats they must have done day after day at the gym.

Long and thick dicks are obviously the ultimate aim. He calls them monster cocks. They may need an extra load of lube and go in more slowly into the fuck button, but the asshole stretches naturally while keeping a hold tightly, and providing the best feeling as it suctions on the entering bazooka with each of the thrusts, soaking up every square inch of the huge rod.

Oswald’s mouth and ass are at the disposal of any cock, no matter the size nor the color, as long as each string of powerful strokes or thrusts guarantees enthusiastic ropes of creamy nectar. You have no doubt guessed that the C. in Oswald C. Butler is for Cock, and that Butler is a man who adores to eat a butt.

This is a true story.

My name is Jay, I’m 18, light skinned, dark hair, blue eyes, about 160 pounds, and 6-0 feet tall. I’m a masculine good looking guy in decent shape and clean shaven. I was living at home for the summer before college and was completely bored. I had been growing increasingly bi-curious and at this point was a full-blown horny cock slut. I had yet to let my little secret out however.

I went to get a haircut one night from my local small barber shop. It was about 8pm. My barber was a guy named Robert, an older gentlemen aged 57. A little bigger guy, strong build, with a gut, and a salt and pepper beard and shaved buzzed head. He was a decent looking guy. Never thought of him in a sexual way at all.

We got to small talking, one by one the other barbers closed up and I realized it was just me and Robert. He was the owner and I was the last appointment. He was quite the talker and was taking his time with my hair blabbing on about everything. He was a funny guy so I didn’t mind. He casually mentioned he was going out with his boyfriend later in the week to some show. I paused and said “oh, I didn’t know you were gay?”. I must have offended him because he said in a sharp tone. “Why, does that surprise you?”. I always kind of knew he was gay, it wasn’t a real well-kept secret. I felt horrible the way I said it and really I don’t even know why I said it that way.

I quickly said “no, no, I just, I’m sorry”. Things got a little awkward for a few moments afterwards. I didn’t know how to ease the tension. So I said “I don’t have any problem with you being gay, I actually um”, there was a little pause and I had never told anyone about my recent sexual experimentation and didn’t know what or how to say it. I was so awkward I just blurted out “I love gay guys”. a perplexed Robert said “Ohhh really, okay”. Another pause. “I mean, like I prefer that, for myself too.” More awkwardness from me.

“You mean, like have you ever thought about being with one?”…I turned completely red, and just said nervously “of course, yes”. Once Robert heard that I could tell he perked up. “Wait, have you ever been with a guy?” “Yes” I said in a low shy voice.

“Wow, okay” He laughed a little. “Too bad I’m not a lot younger. I am a total sucker for dark hair blue eyed boys. That is actually so hot. Does anyone know yet?”

“Not really” I said.

“Okay, well your secret is safe with me. My boyfriend would go nuts if he found out. Last time he was in when you were getting a cut and mentioned how hot he thought you were. He has a thing for younger guys. I told him to leave my customers alone. What is your type? You have to tell me more”. At this point, I felt comfortable with Robert and just kind of told him about some of my past experiences in a very G-rated way. I didn’t know who is boyfriend was so that was surprising when I heard that.

We continued to talk and he changed the subject to make me feel more comfortable. Once he was done he brought me over to rinse out my hair. As he was rubbing the shampoo out of my hair I started to fantasize about Robert in a way that I have never before. I was thinking how hot it would be to be with an older guy. I was starting to get aroused and I think Robert noticed as he continued to rub my head a lot longer than normal.

“Oh my God, that feels so good” I said with a moan.

“I can do a lot of things to make you feel good.”

“I bet you can” I said as we laughed.

Robert grabbed a towel and dried off my hair and asked if I wanted it styled to which I replied I did. He put in some hair gel and finished up.

Once I was at the register there was this enormous sexual tension. As we wrapped up I said “Thanks, I’ll see you in a couple weeks”. Robert gave me a sly grin and said “Or sooner” and gave me a smile. I just stood there and looked back with a smile. “yeah” I said “I would like that”.

Robert moved closer and grabbed my waist and pulled me in and started kissing my mouth. I was in complete shock and just stood there as we made out. My cock jumped out of my shorts.

Robert paused and pulled back and said “Oh my God I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me” I immediately kissed him back. I was so turned on. I stopped suddenly, and looked out the window in the parking lot. It was empty but Robert could tell I was worried about someone seeing. He grabbed me by my shirt and said come this way. He led me back to his office. He had a nice large office, with a big wood desk with a computer and a window with a nice view, with a leather couch in the corner. He drew the blinds down and told me to sit on his couch. He left and went out to shut off all the lights to the shop and lock up. There I was sitting on this couch not knowing what was going to happen next.

When Robert came back in and as I stood up to go kiss him again. He started to unbuckle his pants. I paused with anxiety. Robert moved fast and before I knew it, his pants hit the floor and he started to remove his shirt. He kicked off his socks and shoes and stood there in his white briefs. He grabbed my t-shirt and pulled it over my head. He went right to my nipples and started sucking them while caressing my body. I was so rock hard. I loved how Robert knew what he wanted and just did it. He started stroking my cock through my gym shorts and rubbing my ass at the same time. I was rubbing his hard cock at the same time through his briefs. My pre-cum was oozing out of my dick.

Robert ripped my shorts down. My cock is about 7 inches cut and was harder than it has ever been. My shorts were at my knees and my tennis shoes were still on. He put his tongue down my throat while he started to stroke my cock off. We were kissing so hard, and as he was stroking me, I honestly felt like I was going to bust so quickly. I knew I didn’t want to cum so quickly. I had to push his hand off my dick. I dropped down to my knees on his floor, with my shorts still around my knees and shoes on and reached for his briefs. I slowed down, letting what was happening sink in. As I looked up at Robert, I was rubbing his cock through his underwear. He had the biggest smile on his face, he looked so turned on. He just whispered “man you are so fucking hot”. I started to caress his belly and his thick chest hair while I rubbed his dick.

Robert finally had enough of my teasing and pulled his underwear down. They dropped to the floor and he kicked them off. He grabbed my head softly with his left hand while he had his cock in his right hand. I licked my lips as I stared at his fat, thick cock. He had a big erect dick, trimmed with nice shaved large balls. Probably 7 inches or so, very THICK. I was mesmerized.

“You want to suck this fucking cock don’t you?…Oh fuck yeah open up that pretty mouth boy”

I eagerly opened my mouth and took his huge cock right in. I loved sucking cock so much. I started slow and gentle and tried to see how much of it I could get down. Acting shy at first, I slowing sucked for a minute or two but started to go back and forth faster. I wanted to impress and please Robert. I loved having this big dick in my mouth. I got it as sloppy and wet as I could as I bobbed back and forth on his dick. Robert was moaning. “Oh my God you can suck good dick boy”. I took it out and started licking his balls and shaft slowly. As I licked his balls, I could see Robert slowly stroke his cock while looking down at me.

I then put both my hands on his legs and used only my mouth. I sucked as hard and as fast as I could. After a few minutes, Robert grabbed the back of my head to get more momentum. He was face fucking me now as his cum was dripping down my chin. I could hear the wet saliva popping as I sloppily took his cock in and out of my mouth. Back and forth I went as I tried to make Robert cum. I had my eyes closed and was doing my best to take down this big dick but I found myself choking as he pushed it down my throat.

He pulled his cock out of my mouth as I caught my breath. I looked up at Robert and started to rub his chest and hairy stomach again. I could taste his cum, he was dripping so much while I was sucking him off. But he hadn’t finished. I wanted to finish him off so bad. He slowly pulled me up from my knees and took a moment to have me take off my shorts so I was totally nude now but I still had my shoes on. Everything happened so quickly I had forgot my shoes were still on. I didn’t care, I left them on, I just wanted more cock.

Once I was totally naked he started rubbing my body and ass as I just stood there. My cock was dripping cum everywhere. He was using me and I loved being his submissive younger boy-toy. He started to kiss me again and rub my cock. Robert whispered in my ear “I want your tight little ass.” He quickly turned me around, to face the wall, as he stood behind me, he put his lips on my neck and softly kissed me. His arms now around me, I felt helpless.

He put his right finger in my mouth. I sucked it slowly. He pushed me gently towards his office wall and spread my hands so they were up against the wall. I stood there, frozen. naked but nothing but my gym shoes. I thought about saying I needed to go but I didn’t know how to get out of this.

He started to slap my ass, making it red over and over he slapped my ass. He grabbed my neck with his left hand aggressively pulled it back. “You like that?” He slapped my ass harder than ever, a few more times. I just stood there taking it, once again he slapped my ass. I didn’t know what to do. He whispered in my ear again, “I want you so bad”. He slapped my ass again, and again while he rubbed my ass and body. I could feel his wet cock up against my ass.

He then spread my ass, with both hands I could hear him drop down behind me and get on his knees. I felt his warm tongue start to lick my asshole and he spread my cheeks. He started to slowly rim and finger my tight ass. I was so nervous, my heart was beating like crazy. He rimmed me for about 10 minutes and I was in paradise. “Can I fuck you?” He asked.

I was so nervous and I just said “yes” without thinking.

Before I could even answer I felt his cock entering my ass. I arched my back with my hands still against the wall. He started slowly fucking me. I could feel every inch of him. He started to go slightly faster, he grabbed me around the waist fucking me doggy style. I could hear and feel his big balls slapping against my ass. He started thrusting harder as I slammed up against the wall. My ass getting numb but it felt so good. I just took it as he used my ass. I could feel his body start to shake, he slowed down, as his cock went in and out of my ass. He only fucked me for a few minutes as I don’t know how much my ass could have taken.

Suddenly he pulled out, and pushed my shoulders down with both hands to the ground and said “get back on your knees”

I dropped back down as he demanded. My ass was so red still and sore.

“Look up at me” he demanded. I did as he said. “Now play with your cock” again, I did what he told me.

He was jerking his cock off fast right over me as I looked up, ready to take his load. I was close to cuming myself.

I wanted his cock back in my mouth. I grabbed it and started jerking him off while I caressed his balls. I put the tip of his cock in my mouth as I tried to finish him off. I started to get back into my rhythm. My eyes were starting to water as I was taking his cock. I could tell he was getting close.

I looked up to him and wanted to let him know it would be okay to cum in my mouth. “I want your hot fucking load” I said. I could tell this turned him on.

“Oh my God” is all he said.

I sucked and stroked his cock while getting his dick as wet and sloppy as I could. I loved seeing his reaction while I was sucking off his huge dick. I could taste a little more of his pre-cum.

“Ohhh fuck” I knew he was going to cum. I stroked harder while I continued to suck. I wanted his load and I wanted it now. I opened my mouth right when his first shot came out, I stuck my tongue out and caught a huge thick stream of hot cum. The next stream shot up onto my face and up onto my nose. I continued to stroke off his fat cock. I kneeled down a little lower to get my mouth in a better position and opened wider. Two more big streams shot right into my mouth as Robert growled. I swallowed as much as I could but a lot was dripping on my face, down onto my chin and chest.

I looked up at Robert covered in cum.

As I was still covered in Robert’s cum he pushed me up onto his couch and got on his knees. He started sucking me off. He sucked and jerked off my dick for only a few seconds before I exploded in his mouth. Robert continued to suck me off while I was cuming and swallowed every ounce of my cum. I had never had anyone do that before. It was so hot, and I came so fucking hard.

Once we were finished, I quickly got my stuff on and left in a hurry. He asked me not to tell anyone about what happened and I did the same.

I didn’t hear from Robert for a few weeks after that. But I thought about it every day. I felt odd knowing that I been with guy who had a boyfriend.

The things I had to do to get an article. But this was something new, something I’d never done before, and it had been as hard as I thought—painful, yes, but arousing and uplifting in knowing that I could, in fact, manage it. It wasn’t just the guy under me and the guy on top of me on the divan next to the Roman baths in the 10th Street Baths, both with their dicks in me, playing me like a calliope, but now an older, banker-type of older guy, probably distinguished looking in clothes, but now revealed as gaunt and wrinkled, was holding one of the legs I had spread and raised around the buttocks of the guy on top of me and was sucking my toes.

A few more pumps from the guy on top and then he was finished, pulled out of me, rolled off and was gone. The guy under me wasn’t much longer until he was done too. I had met both of them in the gym connected to the Turkish bath complex at the 10th Street Baths. They were both bruisers who showed interest in me as I was checking out the equipment there—both of the gym and the guys using the gym. Both, separately, had winked at me and said they’d see me in the Roman baths. Both did, and it wasn’t until then that I realized they were a tag team, working together. It was all fodder, though, in some toned down a bit way for the article I’d write for the Gay Men Nation magazine. The article was one of a series on baths in the Northeast—the northeast of the United States, that was.

I needed a bit of time to recover after the guy under me had pulled out and disappeared, so I didn’t leave the couch right away. Banker Daddy was still sucking my toes, and I think he was contemplating moving into position and taking his piece of me too, but I’d had enough for now, and, giving him a little smile and gently pulling my foot of his mouth, I too rolled off the couch and headed for the showers. I had enough material on this place for my article now. Indeed, this was my third visit and the article was nearly completed.

Banker Daddy followed me into the locker room and stood there, naked, watching me shower and dress. He wasn’t fat or ugly; he just was old and wrinkled. He was in erection, though, and there wasn’t anything wrong with his length or girth there.

“I was rather hoping—”

“I’m sorry. I just need to be moving on,” I said, cutting him off. He’d be in the article in some fashion, and I wouldn’t be mean about him, but I really didn’t need more material for this article.

With an audible sigh of disappointment and resignation, he turned, went down the row of lockers, and opened one. I could see inside and guessed I’d been right about the banker connection. The clothes looked expensive—and formal enough for a Wall Street Banker. If so, he was a long way from home. But if he came to the baths to suck young men’s toes, I guess he’d want to go a long way from where he worked and lived. That’s the sort of thing that would be in the article—not pejoratively, but a note of realism.

He took out a wallet, and took what looked like five hundred-dollar bills out.

“I don’t want to do it here, but I’d like you to go to a hotel with me.” I guess that explained his hesitancy in the Roman bath—the limits to which he’d let other guys see what he wanted from a guy.

“Now?” I said, but then I added. “I’m sorry. I’m not a prostitute. That’s the first time I did anything like that—what you saw back there in the baths. There’s a reason. I just can’t tell you what it is. I’m not a prostitute.”

He smiled and took two more hundred-dollar bills out of the wallet. “It’s the East Village Hotel. I already booked a room, hoping I’d see someone like you here. It’s very discrete. I’m even more interested if you’re not a prostitute.”

I had my rent coming up. I’d just graduated from journalism school at Columbia, and, though I had a job, it was on contingency and I just didn’t know where I was going from here. I had expenses—bigger expenses than I had income at the moment. I wasn’t a prostitute. This had been something I’d done to research an article, but . . .

I lay on my back on the bed in the East Village Hotel room, naked, with my butt on the edge of the foot of the bed, with my legs bent and raised, the Banker Daddy gripping my ankles in his hands, holding my feet to his face, and licking the soles of my feet and sucking on my toes. At the same time, he had his dick inside me and was rocking back and forth, fucking me. He had a very nice cock, and his kink was interesting. I’d be able to write about it somehow, in some article or other.

I wasn’t a prostitute. Having seven fresh hundred-dollar bills, straight from a bank, in my wallet didn’t mean anything. I was doing research. I was a writer for a magazine, doing research.

* * * *

“Congratulations on your graduation from Columbia.”

“Thank you, Mr. Fitzpatrick,” I said, my first thought being whether he realized that the degree I’d just taken was a Masters, not a BA. Does someone graduate when they take a Masters, I wondered. I’d have to look that up. Regardless, he’d taken me by surprise—snuck up on me, he did. The publisher of Gay Men Nation rarely addressed me at all, certainly not recently. My eyes involuntarily went to the other end of the open floor, to the glass-walled editor-in-chief’s office—to Gordon Jameson. Yes, he was there, looking out onto the floor. At me? At Miles Fitzpatrick talking to me?

“Call me Miles,” Fitzpatrick said, but there was something in his tone that told me I’d better not try to be that familiar with him. “Now that you have your degree, do you have any ongoing professional plans?”

He wanted to know if I was going to be leaving the magazine—on my own. What did he know? What did he suspect? “My Masters in journalism?” I asked, proud enough to want to pin that down with him. “I don’t know. Nothing at the moment. I was so busy working on the degree—and working here too—that I haven’t given it much thought.”

“Well, do so, and keep us apprised of your plans,” Fitzpatrick said, and then he was moving on, turning his head this way, with a word here and a fake smile there as he worked his way back to the glassed-in office at the other far corner of the working floor, across from Gordon’s office.

Gordon was still standing at his glass wall, looking out onto the floor. At me?

Miles and Gordon were the “brass” of the magazine—also the owners, although I got the impression that Miles Fitzpatrick actually owned the place—and maybe, quite possibly, probably, owned Gordon Jackson as well. They had distinctive titles, but in practice they both were the senior editors, working their separate areas and assigning the stories there. Miles, a short, dark, sour-faced Bostonian, dripping in money and sartorial splendor, handled all but the sports and physical side of the topics we covered. Those went to Gordon, tall, strapping, black, outgoing, charismatic—the top to Miles’s bottom.

And that’s what was important here. The two were a couple. Miles was in control at the magazine. It was his money, his drive, his experience. But, in bed, it was Gordon’s drive and experience—with Miles. How did I know that? Everyone at the paper knew it.

And I’d been caught in between. The question was, did Miles know that? At some point he surely would. And when he knew it, my ass was out of here. I’d managed to hold it to get through my Masters. I guess I was saleable now. I’m not sure I wanted to go, though. It wasn’t just Gordon. I liked covering this beat. I liked some of the surprise side perks that came with it—like the visit to the 10th Street Baths earlier today. I wasn’t the most outgoing person. I handled that by making it a requirement of the job and roleplaying. But I have to say it floated my boat. I’d be hard pressed to get into some of the interesting positions with men I could by working articles at a gay men’s magazine. It hadn’t been me who started it up between Gordon and me.

A couple of men in suits arrived on the floor and were guided back to Miles’s office. He sat them at a conference table in his glass-walled office, with his back to the work floor.

“What did Miles want?” Gordon was standing next to my desk, an arm draped over the top of the cubicle where it opened onto the aisle. He looked casual and oh so god-like. Everyone around me was aware he was there. They were all looking busy, but they all had their antennae up. He was the light of the office anyway. They’d all be aware of where he was and hoping he’d given them a little attention. But I was antsy whenever he gave me attention in the office. It was like they all knew Gordon was humping me and were waiting for an explosion from Miles.

But of course they all knew Gordon was humping me.

“He just wanted to congratulate me on getting the Masters,” I answered.

“And?” Gordon was smiling. He was doing it for the troops surrounding us and trying not to reveal their interest. I could tell the man was on edge, as wary as I was.

“And he wondered if I was thinking of leaving now that I had an advanced degree.”

“You don’t have to, you know. I can handle Miles. He’s less in charge here than it appears.”

I could believe that. But I didn’t want to become the weak corner of a power triangle.

In a louder voice, Gordon said, “Are you still working the 10th Street Baths article?” We were giving a reason for him to have stopped at my cubicle. That article came in his portfolio. I was writing it for him, by assignment. I caught what he wanted me to say in the look he gave me with his eyes.

“I’m almost done. Just one more visit, I think.” I didn’t need any more visits to the baths to get this article completed. It was as good as finished already. I could see that he wanted me to continue, though. In a louder-than-necessary voice, I said, “I was thinking of going back there while taking a prolonged lunch today.” He smiled. I’d caught the signal and said the right thing. He was slipping an envelope onto the top of my desk, not looking at it, so no one monitoring us would know it was being passed.

He smiled. “Good, so maybe I’ll have a draft of the article tomorrow.”

“I can do that,” I said.

“Good,” he repeated and then he turned away, working his way back to his office, stopping at this and that occupied cubicle for longer than Miles had, giving more genuine smiles, talking of articles in preparation at greater depth, joining in freer laughter. Gordon was the heart of this magazine—important to it in ways Miles would never be able to be.

When the attention from the floor had followed Gordon or was focusing on what Miles might be discussing with those suited men in his office, I opened the envelope—and almost laughed. I wasn’t surprised to find a hotel room key, but it was a bit amusing that it was for the same hotel, the East Village Hotel, I’d just been in with Banker Daddy. I did chuckle when I checked on the back of the hotel card also enclosed that gave the room number—same floor, if not the same room. Maybe it was one of the hotel’s by-the-hour rentals.

* * * *

I was kneeling on the bed in room 628 of the East Village hotel, naked and facing the headboard, when Gordon Jameson entered the room, stripped, crouched behind me, and buried his face in my ass while reaching under, handing my cock, and stroking me. I moaned and writhed under the big black’s attention as he came up on the bed, mounted and penetrated me, and fucked the shit out of me. He was the biggest man I’d ever had—in every way.

I writhed under him and panted and groaned as he entered and stretched me. I never was open enough for him at the beginning. With his dimensions I don’t think I’d ever be able to—this despite having been doubled earlier in the day. But the process of opening to him was glorious, the pain-passion of it taking me soaring into the stratosphere. When he was saddled, he moved his big, black hands around to cupping my pecs, his thumbs thrumming my nipples. I shuddered, and, after he began to slow pump me and I was rocking back on him in synch with the fuck, we became one, smooth copulating machine. He was just so big inside me, though, that my legs went to rubber and I collapsed, flat on the bed. He rode down on the bed with me, stretched flat on top of me, putting me in a full Nelson with his muscular arms, completely trapping me under him, and, only his buttocks in motion, bowed my torso back to him, staying deep inside me until he had ejaculated.

* * * *

Back in the office late in the day I saw that Miles Fitzpatrick saw that I had returned and came out onto the working floor. He was walking toward me, a slight smile on his face. Panicked, I looked toward Gordon’s office, but he wasn’t there. Of course he wasn’t there. I’d left him snoring in the bed at the hotel. I was in trouble. I didn’t know precisely how much trouble, but Fitzpatrick looked entirely too pleased with himself. I knew it would be a lot of trouble.

“How is that article on the bathhouse on East 10th coming, Dillon?” he asked when he reached my cubicle. He draped his arm over the top of the cubicle right where Gordon had done the same earlier in the afternoon. Some other reporters were still dotted around on the floor in their cubicles. They were listening in as much now as they had earlier the day when Gordon had been there, I knew, but rather than leaning in, they were leaning away. Miles on the floor was taken as a threat by all—the direct opposite of the effect Gordon had when he walked the floor.

“I’m just finishing up,” I said. “I got all I needed on the last visit this afternoon.” I’d brazen it out. I even had a notebook to show him of material supposedly collected today, if Miles wanted to check it.

“That’s great to hear,” Miles said. I didn’t like his smile at all. “I think you saw that I had some visitors earlier this afternoon.”

“Yessss,” I said.

“They were lawyers for Father Francis. Fushin Lu. Do you know who Lu is—who once was Monsignor Francis?”

“The Catholic cardinal in Taiwan who was defrocked for his sex views?”

“Well, he wasn’t quite a cardinal, but yes. He was the Catholic archbishop of Taipei in Taiwan who showed no remorse for there being homosexuality in the Catholic Church, refused to prosecute his priests accused of sodomy, and has broken away and formed his own church—which accepts, in fact encourages, homosexuality among priests. The bottom line is that we, of course, have wanted to do an in-depth feature article on him and his church for Gay Men Nation. Those lawyers this afternoon came to agree to that.”

“That’s great news,” I said. Where was this going?

“Father Francis has built a monastery as his headquarters church on a mountaintop in Vermont. If you’ve finished this article, I’d like you to take on that article. You’ll need to be imbedded at the monastery for the duration. You won’t have to become one of the monks, of course, or do whatever they’re doing, but I’m sure it will take a couple of weeks of research.”

“I’m not the least bit religious,” I said. “Perhaps you should give this to—”

“All to the good,” he said, smiling. “Then there won’t be a lot of hocus pocus in the article.” I’d almost named someone else—someone I was afraid might take my place with Gordon while I was gone. It was unworthy of me, of course. And it was perfectly within Fitzpatrick’s right to assign me a new article to research and write. It was a meaty topic. I should be happy with it.

“When?” I asked, resigned.

“You could leave tomorrow morning. I have Jim in Human Services working on the details. He’s getting you a rental car and has been making the arrangements. Check in with him before you leave tonight. You can be on the road tomorrow. Here are the notes I’ve made for what we want from the interviews. Good-bye and god speed.”

The slightly sneery smile had deepened. He had already turned to strut back to his office as I was saying all I could say, which was “Yes, sir.”

Oh, yes, he knew what was going on between his boy, Gordon Jamison, and me. I suppose he could just have fired me. I’d never been to Vermont. I didn’t even know what direction it was in from Manhattan. I was wild about it when I learned it was north rather than to the sunny south.

* * * *

It all happened quickly and I didn’t have a chance to talk to Gordon, let alone ask him if he could intercede and stop this. He had taken a night flight to Washington, D.C., on business. I could only guess that Fitzpatrick had been the one who came up with the business Gordon suddenly needed to attend to in Washington. I could only admire how good Fitzpatrick was at engineering a split-up.

He had been right. When I went to Jim in HR before going home, he had it all laid out for me—keys to a rental car; a packet of money, more, he said than I would need because all of my needs would be taken care of at the monastery and there wouldn’t be much of anywhere to spend money outside of the monastery; and the directions for getting there—some 250 miles. It probably would take me the best part of six hours to get there—some of the roads there weren’t the best—so I should leave before lunch the next day. Fitzpatrick had also provided everything I needed in the background packet and my letter of introduction to Father Francis. It seemed like this had been in the works for longer than since I’d seen the lawyer suits in Fitzpatrick’s office that afternoon.

I wondered how long Fitzpatrick had known Gordon had been fucking me. How long had he been planning to get rid of me? I was only on assignment, though, not fired. I wondered how Fitzpatrick planned to keep me away from his lover permanently. Didn’t he know that Gordon would just go on to someone else? Maybe he did. Maybe I was a bigger threat—a threat of something more permanent with Gordon. I’d have to think about that. I hadn’t thought about winding up with Gordon permanently. Maybe I should think about that while I was gone.

Jim had been right. It took the better part of six hours to get to the top of the mountain outside of Cavendish, Vermont, in the south-central, mountainous area of the state from Manhattan. Most of that time was the time it took to get out of the city and then the time it took to climb the remote mountain the monastery perched on. The rest of the drive had been pleasant. I did know how to drive—I wasn’t a New York boy; I’d come to school here from Indiana. But I hadn’t driven in years. The further away from Manhattan I got, the more amenable I became to this obvious shunting aside. Gordon wasn’t the only big-cocked man in the world.

But, shit, what a nice cock he had on him, and before him I hadn’t realized how much chocolate men aroused me.

The afternoon was late, but the sky—and, noticeably the air—was clear when I got to the top of the mountain and the breathtaking view to other green mountain tops around this one was well worth the tortuous climb up the narrow road zigzagging alongside the mountain slope. Once on top, the monastery itself loomed ahead of me, somewhat Asian in aspect, at least three stories tall, all blank wall and huge wooden door in the center, with what windows there were all being near the top, below battlements. The fortress sides—because it couldn’t be denied that the monastery was an inner-directed fortress—were newly painted an ochre color with rough wood trimmings in large chunks.

The building obviously was newly constructed. It was set against the opposite downslope, jutting out over the abyss on that side. On this side it was surrounded in three flat stretches. To the right was the parking area, neatly asphalted and marked, with trees planted beside every third parking space. Beyond that was a tall iron fence enclosing an Olympic-sized swimming pool. To the left of the building was a field with a soccer patch laid out. Young men, all in good shape, were coming off the field as I arrived. They had played just in loincloths and soccer socks and shoes, but some were already off the field and were donning cassocks.

So, these must be young priests of this new religion, I thought. What was notable was that their cassocks weren’t all black or white—they were of the whole rainbows of colors. It looked like those young men were entering the monastery through a door at the side but I presume it was the front door for me. That door was a huge two-paneled, heavy wood doorway the width of a two-car garage. There was a smaller door cut in it, though. As I took my suitcase out of the rental car and walked toward the gate, I saw that there was a sign over the larger door. It said “AmorHominis,” Latin for ManLove. From Fitzpatrick’s notes, I knew that this was both the name and central function of this new offshoot church. Taking a deep breath, I raised my fist to knock on the door, but it opened on its own.

A young, blond, good-looking priest in a powder-blue cassock, to match his blue eyes, opened the door to me. “Mr. Dockery?” he asked, and when I nodded that that was me, he ushered me inside. He, like the other priests, or monks, or whatever, I encountered there spoke as little as was needed at the time. He motioned for me to follow him. He obviously knew who I was and who I’d come to see. He did take my suitcase from me and set it aside, near the door, saying, “You will find this in your room when you need it.”

As plain and austere as the monolithic monastery building was on the outside, on the inside it was richly decorated and Asian in feeling. At the center was an open courtyard. Three stories of cloistered colonnades ran down each side of the courtyard to a more substantial, taller building at the other end. Rooms led off the covered passages at the side. On the front wall, where I had entered, the first story was a covered passageway. A blank wall went up two more stories. There were winding staircase at the two front corners—as there were at the two far corners—leading up to the battlements lining the three walls of the enclosure behind me and to either side. There were landings on each floor. In front of me, at the end that hung over the side of the mountain, was what obviously was the main building, with the chapel at the top.

The architectural style was ornate traditional Chinese décor, in wood, painted vermillion, white, and green. I suddenly was in an eighteenth-century Chinese temple. The central courtyard was floored in sand, and tubs were set around the periphery holding sweeping Japanese maple trees and other Oriental plantings. The center of the courtyard obviously was for exercise and ceremony, though. When I was being led around the side, under the colonnade, I observed young monks, in loincloths or less, paired off and wrestling Roman-Greco style—or in some Asian form of that, for all I knew. All of the young men were handsome, all were fit, and the ones I could observe naked, all were in erection. I had little doubt where these exercises would lead to in one of the rooms—or cells, or whatever they called them here—on the second and third tiers of the passage ways on either side of the compound. Fitzpatrick’s notes had clearly told me that this sect believed in free love, gay style. That was to be the focus of the magazine article I was to research.

It was evident as we passed that the rooms on the first floor were for work or study. The rooms were commodious, some twenty feet in depth and as much wide.

The goal of my walk behind the young, blond, blue-eyed monk I learned was named Brother Ignatius was the central building at the other end, and, more precisely to a lower level in the tower. We entered on a level that, beyond the foyer, appeared to be one large lounge, maybe forty feet wide, with closed-off rooms to the sides, and fifty feet deep. Staircase at each side of the foyer led both down and up. Seeing me looking up the staircase at the end we approached, Brother Ignatius provided an explanation for what lay above us.

“The next floor up is the refectory—our communal dining all, flanked by the kitchens, he said, and above that, at the top, is the chapel. But we’re going down.”

And that’s where he led me, down into stone-walled, concrete floored depths, the next level looking like it was a gymnasium with support facilities off to the side. The next level below that was where we stopped. Guiding me through doors, Brother Ignatius led me into what was an elaborate Roman baths, but decorated in Asian style and with traditional-scene Chinese murals on the walls. When I had an opportunity to look at the murals closely, the art depicted men cavorting with and having sex with other men in ancient Chinese settings.

At first, all I saw in the cavernous baths area, dominated by a pool in the middle, the water of which was reflecting in swirls on the room’s ceiling, were two young monks, one in a yellow cassock and the other in lime green, moving around the chamber with towels over their arms. The one in yellow, an Asian, saw us at the door, and Brother Ignatius turned me over to him, saying that he was Brother Michael. As he was escorting me over to where a couple of wrought iron chairs sat, three-quarters facing each other, with a matching table between them supporting a bottle of wine in an ice bucket and a couple of wine glasses, the monk in yellow went to the side of the pool and that’s the first I knew that someone else was in the baths.

The man, naked, rose up from the pool at a shallow spot—and rose and rose and rose. He was nearly seven feet tall. He was slender of body, but tightly muscled, and he was Asian, completely bald, but with bushy dark eyebrows above dark eyes that were piercing, reaching out and possessing me fully as he gazed at me from where he rose in the pool. Even without saying anything, I knew this was Father Francis, or Fushin Lu, or whatever he called himself in his new religion. And I also knew that he was in complete command of all around us. I gave a little shudder as I felt his presence swirl about me and envelope me.

His sense of command and an aura of the sensual extended down, from his hard pecs across his flat belly and into his slight, black-haired bush, in the majesty of the man’s genitals. His cock in repose between his slender, but tightly muscled thighs was a good foot long. The man was monstrously hung. His balls were meaty and hung low as well. The man was a bull.

He moved slowly, unconscious of his nudity, from the pool, the monk in yellow meeting him at the lip of the pool and putting a towel around his shoulders, beginning a process of patting the man down. Father Francis stood there, stretching his lightly muscled arms wide, showing a wingspan that complemented his height, and continued gazing at me with a half-smile on his face as the monk dried him off. Then the man glided—I can’t say walked, because he moved as if he were floating on a cloud—over to where I still stood, at the grouping of the two chairs separated by a small table. The man made no effort whatsoever to cover or hide his prodigious sex as he moved. He gestured for me to sit in one of the chairs.

“Mr. Dockery, I presume? Dillon? A journalist from the gay men’s magazine come to reveal my movement to the world? The man who I hope will be pulling my autobiography out of me as well. Please sit. I hope you had a pleasant journey to us. Wine, or should I have something else brought? It may be too early in the day and our interview to indulge in drugs. Later perhaps.”

“Wine is fine,” I said, stammering, put on edge by both his command and his sensuality, which he made no effort to cover, as I sat in the designated seat and slipped the writing tablet out of the case I had carried into the room. I didn’t know what he meant about an autobiography, but I decided to leave that for now. “And, yes, I’m Dillon Dockery from Gay Men Nation.”

When we were settled and it was obvious that he was going to wait me out for a beginning—and that he was just going to sit there, naked, monstrously hung, and without a shred of self-consciousness about how he was receiving me, I found something to say to get started—because I had to.

“This is quite a facility you’ve built here,” I said.

“One has to start somewhere,” he asked, pouring the wine for us now that I had broken away from his probing gaze and had said something. “I have been fortunate to have had no trouble gathering adherents. All of them very beautiful young men. I presume you have noticed that.”

“Yes, I couldn’t help it,” I answered.

“None more beautiful than you are, Dillon. You know, your Mr. Fitzpatrick had to provide photos of you before I would agree to this article. He told me you were a submissive.”

So much to any idea my relationship with Gordon wasn’t known to Fitzpatrick.

“And I only agreed then,” he continued, “because I also have need for help on my autobiography and I received copies of the articles you have written. All quite competent. You are beautiful enough to be a monk here, you know. I see you swathed in gold. Your hair color is quite striking, and it’s gratifying to know it is your natural color.”

This was too heady for me. I was being completely forced off my pins. He spoke so forthrightly and openly. This man had been in the hierarchy of the Catholic Church? I didn’t know what to grasp at. He’d seen my photos? What was that about being a natural blond—but, of course, I was.

“My photos?”

“Yes, you have a beautiful body.”

“My naked photos?” The only one who had photos of me naked was Gordon Jameson. But, shit. Of course. Fitzpatrick must have been snooping in Gordon’s telephone.

“Yes. I understand you are gay. I assumed so before I was informed of it. You work for a gay men’s magazine so you must be. Mr. Fitzpatrick assured me you were. You are, aren’t you? You are a casual submissive? We only allow men who go with men to stay at the monastery. For this magazine article interview, you could stay down in one of the nearby towns, but if we are to work on an autobiography, you will have to be here for quite some time and will have to be comfortable staying at the monastery. And, of course, I will have to cover you. You couldn’t understand the essence of me if I wasn’t inside you. Even for the magazine interview I think I will have to bed you.”

Shit, this is moving fast. I looked at his foot-long cock, swinging between his thighs, reaching for the floor as we sat there, sipping wine and acting like this was all natural. But it wasn’t really swinging free now. He was getting hard—and, if anything, longer. He was occasionally touching himself, giving it a stroke. What he was saying—the image and prospect of it—was arousing him. I couldn’t say it wasn’t turning me one too. I had to cool this down.

“Yes, I’m gay,” I said.

“And you will engage in casual sex?”

“Yes.” I attempted to move the conversation back to the substance of the interview. “I’m not religious, though, so I don’t basically understand how your movement fits in as a religion—and a Christian one. I understand you insist that you are a Christian sect and that it’s this insistence that has the Catholic Church so apoplectic about your movement.”

“Of course, we’re Christian. We’re closer to Christ than either the Catholic or Orthodox churches are. You aren’t naïve enough to not realize the sexuality of Christ and his band of men, I hope. The Protestant churches, of course, are completely off the beam.”

“Maybe we should begin with the name of your movement,” I said, becoming marginally more comfortable with this arrangement now that I could get to the meat of the article. The thought of meat, however, made me look again at the naked man’s crotch. He definitely was in erection now and was holding it in one of his hands. His hands were slender, the finger long, sensuous. He had two rings on each hand, one on his right thumb, with a large jewel in it. Jade? For the first time I saw that there was a jade bead, of considerable size, pierced into the bulb of his cock as well. I shuddered at the thought of how that would feel inside me. Did they bareback here or use condoms? Would that make a difference in how a bead that size felt inside? My eyes moved up to his. He was looking at me and smiling. It was as if he could read my thoughts.

Holding his prodigious erection pointed at me, he said, “My partners do enjoy this.” He was, of course, referring to the bead.

I took a deep breath and continued, fighting for control. “As I came in your entry door, I saw the name of your movement over the door—AmorHominis; ManLove. You use the term ‘amour,’ rather than the Christian usage, ‘agapi’—which is more in the vein of charity—love of God for man and of man for God, as I understand it. You didn’t even use ‘philia’—brotherly love.”

Father Francis laughed. “You’ve already been doing your homework, haven’t you?”

He was doing more than cupping his cock now. He was stroking it and working the slit in it with the pinky of his hand. This was very disconcerting. I know I was noticeably affected by it—squirming a bit in my chair and I’d gone full hard. He was giving me benign and slightly amused looks, like he knew exactly the effect he was having on me.

“You have hit it directly,” he said. “The work I have intentionally used is ‘amour.’ Sexual love. That’s the essence of our movement. The Bible was written in a time and by men in which men having sex with other men could not be directly referred to. But it’s there, in the Bible, the purity of the Jesus movement. Jesus’s apostles were all men. Those claiming to follow Christ have been trying to bring women into the movement in recent centuries, but it’s not there, in the Bible, even in the guarded way the story could be given then. Jesus’s band was one of men. Jesus’s beloved, even in the book, was a man—a younger man, John. The essence of following Christ is in giving yourself to Jesus, physically, totally—or, in the absence of Jesus until he comes—to his representatives on Earth. I am one such. Paul, the one who made the church, based on the teachings of Christ, understood this. And this was because Paul himself covered men. That too is alluded to in the Bible. The pure movement of Christ is one of ‘amour’—a sexual giving and taking between men of the fellowship. Each man in this monastery gives and takes from others—all here have taken me inside them, regardless of how they couple with other men, or they wouldn’t be here.”

“That’s a lot to absorb and think about,” I said, knowing my voice felt tight. “Perhaps, for the moment, I should—”

“Do you wish to come into the pool with me now, or are you tired from your journey and need to be taken to your room to refresh yourself and rest until dinner.”

“In the pool?”

“Yes. Have you ever been fucked by a man in a pool, the flow and buoyancy of the water around you aiding in your two bodies working together to achieve something beautiful?”

“I think a rest, yes,” I said. “But didn’t you say I would have to live down in the town during the interview unless I was working on your autobiography.”

“Now that I have met you, I am sure I wish you to be here with us in the monastery—and I am equally sure you will be working on my autobiography.”

All righty then, I thought. But he was more sure of this than I was.

He signaled to the monk in the lime green cassock, the one who I’d been told was named Michael. “Later, then. We will see you at dinner. I can give you an hour and a half twice a day of my time and attention—until the article is finished and we can see about moving into the autobiography. That should give us about an hour for the work in each session. During the autobiography phase, of course, we will have to be more intense. You will have to be in my bed—although others will be there too. Brother Michael, would you please show Dillon to the guest room we have prepared for him.”

And that was that. Father Francis had stood, turned, and walked toward where the monk in yellow was patiently standing in the background as Brother Michael came forward to guide me to the guest room.

I was so discombobulated that I left my case beside the chair and had to be guided back to the baths when we were half way to the third tier, where the guest rooms were. When Brother Michael and I entered the baths, the yellow cassock of the young monk who had remained there with Father Francis, was off and puddled on the floor. The monk himself, naked, was standing but bent over, grasping his ankles. Father Francis was draped over the young priest’s body, the palm of one hand on the young man’s belly and the other one wrapped around the monk’s cock. Francis was slow fucking the young monk with a foot of hard cock that was taking him fully in long slides. The monk had a grimace on his face, but his expression was one of ecstasy as well. I supposed in his religion this was a high honor to be chosen to take Father Francis’s shaft.

Father Francis turned his gaze to me, quite clearly conveying that “this could have been you—in the pool.” I shuddered and turned away, realizing that it would be me sometime, somehow, before the next morning.

Brother Michael retrieved my case for me and guided me back out of the baths, giving no indication that anything unusual was happening in the chamber at all.

I had to suppose that it wasn’t, in fact, anything unusual to be happening in this monastery. I shuddered again at the thought of what Miles Fitzpatrick had gotten me into here, but I was embarrassed that I had gone hard and was still hard when we got to the guest room, which was quite large, very well appointed, and came with an en suite bathroom.

I obviously wasn’t hiding that I was aroused, because, after showing me the amenities of the room, which, because it was on the third level, had two windows with very nice views of the surrounding mountain scape, Brother Michael pulled his cassock over his head, sat at the foot of the bed, and spread and raised his legs, offering himself to me.

I thanked him, tried to let him know that he certainly was a desirable young man, but told him it had been a very long ride from New York and I really did need to bathe and rest before dinner.

He took the rejection in stride, accepting that it only was because I was tired. I couldn’t say I wouldn’t avail him or someone else—quite certainly Father Francis—of a coupling later. But this time, at least, it appeared that both Michael and I were of the same persuasion. If he had offered to fuck me, I can’t say I would have declined. As it was, when I got into the shower, I had to take care of myself while recalling my introduction to the charismatic and mesmerizing Father Francis.

* * * *

He had me fully in his embrace, Father Francis three-quarters on his back on his luxuriously appointed bed in his commodious quarters across the courtyard from my guest quarters on the third level. Where my side of the monastery complex had windows overlooking the surrounding mountainous Vermont countryside, though, Father Francis’s bedroom had a covered balcony running the full length of his bedroom, sitting room, office, and mammoth bathroom layout. No expense had been spared in outfitting the richness of his quarters, hardly what one would have thought for the leader of a monastic order—but Father Francis was in no way the usual leader of a monastic order.

I was stretched out over his body, torso to the side, but my legs over his midsection, my pelvis raised from the leverage of my bent legs, feet flat on the mattress of either side of his thighs. He was holding my back into his chest with one arm slung over my chest, the hand reaching down to grasp and stroke my cock. His other hand was under me, his long, slender fingers rubbing my ball sac and the underside of my engorged cock as his thumb penetrated me, the gemstone of his thumb ring rubbing the rim of my hole.

He was holding me immobile other than the gentle rocking of my buttocks on his thumb and stroking of my cock up into his other hand. He would hold me there, edging me, taking his time until I ejaculated, and then he would fuck me with his long, long cock, with the jade bead in the bulb. We had been here several times before in the two weeks since I’d arrived and we’d kept to the routine of two interview sessions a day, morning and evening, for the Gay Men Nation article, with some fifty minutes for work and forty minutes for fuck. I had succumbed to him the first evening I had arrived at the monastery, being quickly overcome by his charisma, sensuality, and command. I had been completely defenseless to him. The last three nights, he had taken me into his bed and taken me to exhaustion in myriad sexual positions of the Orient that I’d never even imagined were possible.

Nearly every day he’s fucked me in the monastery pool, too, and the sensation of doing it in the water was every bit as arousing as he’d told me it would be.

With a shudder and a deep groan, I came for him—again and again, the man god being able to pull more of a climax out of me than I’d ever experienced before. Then and only then did he take his long erection in hand and rub it over and over my hole, punishing my rim with the jade bead in his bulb, as I hyperventilated and begged him to fuck me and, at last, enter me strongly and deep, ever so deep into the soft core of me. He fucked me and fucked me and fucked me.

As we lay there, in a loose embrace, afterward, he said, “You have what you need for the magazine article now?”

“Yes,” I said, “and it’s written. I just have to file it and I’ll be finished here.”

“You won’t be finished if you agree to write my autobiography. If so, this can go on and on. And I’ve offered you a permanent place here too, in the brotherhood of this monastery—as one of my AmorHominis priests.”

“Yes, I know,” I said. “I should go file the magazine article now.”

He did not stop me from rolling out of his embrace and off the bed. I reached down to pick up the gold-colored cassock that had slipped to the floor when he pulled me into his bed, and I walked around the third-floor colonnade to my own bedroom, which I hadn’t occupied for the past three nights. There, I transmitted the finished Gay Men Nation article on the AmorHominis movement back to New York on my cellphone and texted a short message, sending it to Miles Fitzpatrick. I could not bring myself to send it to Gordon Jameson: “Article filed and I resign. I will be writing Father Francis’s autobiography.”

Fitzpatrick had won. But I didn’t give a shit. I had a gold cassock now. Also, with drugs and having a good doctor on staff, I was enjoying how that bead felt as I was being barebacked.

I’m 30 and he’s 21 and I’ve fantasised about him for 5 years but known the family since I was young.  

It all started when I was dating his sister and comes downstairs in his towel and like “oh sorry I didn’t know you were here” and I couldn’t get his wet body out of my mind. 

They all went abroad and I had to look after their place that summer so I went snooping. Unbuckled my jeans and dropped my trousers. I was instantly hard in his bedroom. Couldn’t find any boxers but I found a dirty t shirt and socks – I took off my jeans underwear and socks followed by t shirt and shut his door on walking back to his bed I could see him there – in my head – pre cum oozing. This was the biggest rush of my life. The biggest kick I’ve ever had. I thought I have to. I pulled back his sheets and oh my god there’s stains. I got on my knees and licked the stains and got in. Feeling his 16yo bed cover slide across my hairy legs was such a sensation in itself. I realised I am so gonna blow. The smell. Laying naked in his room. I wanted imaging him sucking me, kissing – and I held on to the frame as if he was riding me. My feet clenched sticking out of his single bed cover, knocking his teddy’s off, I felt my balls tighten and I explode about 5 shots of juice onto the cover and duvet. I rubbed a few blobs into his cum stains. It was the best orgasm. 

I used his socks to clean myself up and left the rest wet. I came back a further 4 times that week to relive the orgasm. At one point I cummed onto his pillow the whole load. 

When they returned I was nervous of any evidence but nothing was said. I became addicted to him – I stole boxers when I could or socks but then I couldn’t hack it and tried to sneak into his room.

I was post wank. Must of been about 5mins laying there to catch my breath. Fully naked. In my fantasy and sniffing his calvins when the front door went. I 100% thought it was their dad home early when I heard him with his friend….

to be continued 

Beginning

I met Carl at a bar after work. He seemed to know I was on a gay journey and stepped right in to get some of me. He said he likes my type. Middle age, confident, and clueless about the gay lifestyle. He is about my age. He says he’s been gay since birth. He took me into his bedroom and showed me some stuff I never would have thought of. 

Carl’s stuff

“Let’s make you my bitch”, he said. I figured I’d be his kneeling cock sucker and that sort of thing. But he had grander ideas for me. He told me he’s always wanted to fuck his stepmother. He said he didn’t like her and would fuck her hard and brutally if he ever got the chance. He said he wants me to play some make-believe for him. He thinks I might pass as his stepmother with the right makeup and clothing. I’m kind of slim and 6 feet tall. He said I’ll be perfect. then he will force me to do kinky sexual acts, just like he would with his bitch of a stepmother. 

While I showered I shaved as smooth as possible everywhere, ass asked. With her picture on the dresser, he positioned a wig on my head just like her hair. He stood back to survey the look. He watched me closely as I applied some lipstick and eyeliner just like hers. He handed me an open bottom girdle, stockings, and a longline bra to put on. He told me it is the underwear she used to wear. 

He even had the dress she was wearing in the photo. A knee-length white dress with cute blue flowers around the collar and hem. It fit me pretty well considering it was a woman’s dress.  There were silicone breast forms for the bra cups. The bra said it was a D cup. The breast forms were large, heavy, and felt real. I looked at myself in the mirror with him looking over my shoulder. Then back at the photo on the dresser. 

While I was gazing at myself, seeing the pretty woman in the reflection, Carl was buckling a large black leather studded dog collar around my neck. He seemed to be in a strange zone like he was possessed. I looked back over my shoulder at him, when he said in a stern tone: “I’ve been waiting for a long time for this, Joan. I’m going to fuck you hard, like the whore that you are, you cunt!”

Before I could remind him that I’m still a novice at this, he popped the knotted part of a long thick scarf in my mouth. The ends were pulled back behind my neck and tied up.  I witnessed the woman in the pretty white dress being collared and gagged, with wide-open surprised eyes, right in front of me. “Mumph! 

“I felt like I wasn’t really there, or didn’t wish to be. I was feeling like I was in an out-of-body state. At least for a short moment. 

Using nylon stockings and pantyhose to bind my arms behind my back and legs together he had me sitting on the bed, helpless. As he was taking off his shirt and dropping his jeans, he gave me a long, serious stare. “Hey, I know you’re not really her. I’m not that crazy. But I am going to fuck you like you were.”

Mummphh!!!

I’ve had quite a few gay lovers. I’ve done some weird stuff I probably would have preferred to not have, and someday hope to forget. But being treated like a mom slave was very kinky in a fun sort of way.

Because I was gagged he saved throat fucking me until much later in the evening. Pushing me on my back, he climbed on me, ripped the front of the flowered dress apart, and began tit fucking the huge D cup breast forms in the sexy lace bra. As he was squeezing and bouncing on me, he said he took 3 Viagra before I arrived. But he was healthy and didn’t really need any. His 7-inch cock was hard, throbbing, and relentless. As he mounted my chest, a bottle of sex lube emerged in front of me, releasing a long stream of purple love lube. 

He was talking as he slipped his hard cock in and out between the large rubber boobs. “You’ve always wanted this haven’t you, you bitch?” He was gripping the breast forms hard, looking me in the eyes. He would look through me, muttering “Bitch, Cunt, fuck hole,” etc. “The bra, the top of the dress, and his cock were sloppy wet from the slippery lube he had squirted all over my chest. He kept humping and stroking away until he finally showed signs of coming. Just before he gave a loud grunt and blew all over my chest, he held my head and slapped my face. “Take this you fucking whore!”

Some of his jizz settled around my mouth. I could taste some of it seeping by the scarf gag. One more groan and a good thick stream hit my face. He laughed as he hung his cock over my face, dripping more cum all over it. I closed my eyes. 

“Don’t give up on me, mom. I’m just getting started!”

After a brief pause, Carl brought over some ladies’ lace panties. He used them to wipe up all the goo covering my chest and my face. He gently removed the scarf but quickly replaced it with the dripping wet panties. Balled up and roughly stuffed in my mouth. “You can taste me for a while longer, you cum whore.”

Tied in with a nylon stocking, I am mouth gagged again. But this time filled with dirty panties and a double load of cum. Wet, sticky, and pretty fucking disgusting.

Mummph!

It didn’t take but 5 minutes for Carl to be ready for round two. I remembered him telling me about taking the Viagra. He climbed on the bed, grabbing the dress from the top and ripping it down over me, pulling it halfway off. The pretty longline bra, girdle, and smooth bare skin were very exposed. 

He rolled me on my tummy while I was struggling to free myself from the nylons tied around my wrists and elbows, “Now I’m going to fuck what little brains you have right out of you, you worthless cunt!”

Mummph!!!!!!

With my face pushed deep in the pillows, I felt him pulling the girdle up so he could easily reach my tight little boy cunt. He spanked my ass cheeks really hard, calling me filthy names again. One cheek then the other. Giving my sore butt cheeks a good hard working over. But just when he was swatting one more time, he popped my ass cherry and just kept pushing in. When I wiggled to get free, he grabbed the back of my neck and pushed hard keeping my face and the rest of me pressed down. “Don’t try to get away, you bitch! You are never getting away from this!”

He pounded away for what seemed like hours until I passed out. I woke up under the bedspread, sticky and still in the bra and girdle. My mouth, butt cheeks, and little hole were very sore. The wet nasty panty gag and nylon bindings were gone. But it didn’t take me long to realize I was still wearing the collar and some new items as well. A set of matching leather hand and ankle cuffs were strapped on tightly. 

As soon as I began to move around, Carl was back. “Get up and get into the fucking shower, you filthy bitch!” I guess it wasn’t over, was it?

Telling to leave the bra and girdle on, he roughly pushed me into the walk-in shower, following me in. After just a quick rinse, he pushed me to my knees. “Time for you to earn your way out of here, you stupid whore!”

Finally, something I was somewhat familiar with. I’ve sucked many more guys off than I’ve had fuck me. He was talking while I did my best to please his fat, hard cock. The shower spray on me kept the words just a mumble. But I could tell he was speaking rough and aggressive from his pulling my hair and forcing my head back and forth. 

Once again, he gave my face a rough slap just as he blew his load. I let out a loud “Ahh fuck!”

Carl left me in the bathroom to dry off, ordering me to leave on the ladies’ underwear and reposition the wig, so I’m still in character.

When I came out he was standing in the middle of the bedroom, naked and hard as a rock, with a black dress over his arm. “You wear this when you’re in the mood for some serious cock sucking, don’t you?”

I shyly nodded. He reached out, handing me the dress. 

“Good, because the BJ in the shower sucked. But you’re going to make up for that, aren’t you, mom?”

I looked up at him, continuing to nod.

With a video camera in my face, the black satin dress slipped on, my hands cuffed in front of me, my ankles locked together, and his cock sliding down my throat, I tried my best to be the best I could be. Fortunately, after two more orgasms and a lot of cum in my mouth and dripping over me, he seemed satisfied with my efforts.

.::Prologue::.

.::Kozinski Family Household::.

Currently my family is living in a modest but elegantly designed 3 bedroom home. A living room, dining room, kitchen, and office spanning the layout of the first floor with one of the bedrooms, along with a private bathroom, tucked back behind the kitchen. the Second floor holds the other two bedrooms, each having their own private bathrooms along with a den. The basement has an elegant billiard room along with wine tasting cellar in the basement. Looking at the house from the front, you can see a gorgeous year with a long drive up to the front of the house. it is set about 100 yards back from the street, giving it ample space is both front and back yards, While there is a pool and barbeque deck out back. The household is currently set up with a 2 male figureheads in the house along with a few staff, a cook, maid, butler and gardener.

Allow me to introduce myself along with the other male figurehead in the house. I am Anton Michael, age 31, standing 6’1 while weighing in at about 235 lbs. Dark brown almost black hair with hazel green eyes. strong male features about the face with the body of an Adonis. Perfectly tanned, while harboring a weapon in my trousers of 11 full inches of thick man meat. I am pureblood Italian, second generation American. The other male figure head is my identical twin brother Jeffery Alan, when standing side by side it is like you are looking in a mirror. Though there is a major difference between us as I have a full facial of hair, neatly trimmed. He has the babyface in the family, though he has the same striking features. He is standing 6′ tall while weighing in at 255. Jeffery is also sporting a mere 9 inches but it is thicker in girth. Both of us grew up doing wrestling in High School and College and became Collegiate Champions of our weigh classes in both years. I studied business administration with a heavy focus on finance while my brother chose to be pre-med as he wanted to be the doctor in the family.

For the past 13 years, life within our home was a very enjoyable one, though admittedly the first 9 years was a little difficult on both of us as we hide a major part of ourselves from our parents. Since our parents having passed on 4 years ago, We have finally been able to continue living our lives as we chose to conduct them. We have been an incestuous couple since our adolescence. Yes, yes…i know what your thinking, identical twins fucking each other and being in love. Yes we are. Anyway, As stated, things were very enjoyable but things in our home were about to change dramatically. Being the CEO of my financial firm, I for one, would never have expected this kind of curveball. But then again, Not everything I have done in my life, does my brother know. Specifically a time 13 years ago, He having gotten the scholarship he was after, I still needed to figure out how i was going to come up with my admissions fees. So I decided to do something that not even my parents found out about. I chose to donate several ounces of sperm 4 times a week for 3 months, netting me almost $50,000 in the process. What I never expected to happen is about to be unveiled before you the readers eyes.

.::September 13, 1974::.

3:30 AM

Having Spent the last 4 hours in bed with Jeffery, he was at the breaking point while balls deep within his brother’s ass. Suddenly the phone rings, just as he erupts deep inside his ass, on the other side of the room. Thinking to himself that it was most likely someone from work at this time of night, he chose to ignore the call. The ringing stopped but is shortly followed by a gentle rapping at the bedroom door. groaning loudly, He withdraw from Jeffery’s ass before grabbing my robe off the poster of the bed. His back currently to Jeffery, who clearly was enjoyiing the action as well, grumbles loudly as well. Anton opens the bedroom door as he suddenly is met with the face of Alex, the butler. He looks at Alexander with a scowl on his face and speaks gruffly “Yes Alex, what is it?” Having the door swing open abruptly would usually catch someone off guard but not Alexander, who clears his throat and speaks attentively “Anton Sir, You have a call from a, Julianne Moret, She is a social worker at Brighten University Medical Center. Suddenly there is a flurry of bedding behind him as Jeffery shoots up off the bed. dawning his own robe before joining his brother by the door. Before Jeffery can utter a signal word, Anton speaks quickly “We will take it in here. thank you for letting us know” He closes the door abruptly, turning to his brother as he places his hand about his shoulder “Now calm down, I know that is your hospital, But we need not jump. Lets find out what this is about before jumping to conclusions.” Knowing his brother as he does. Anton knows very well that Jeffery tends to worry a lot more then most as he is the Head Physician and Surgeon at Brighten.

Walking over to his Desk on the other side of his bedroom. He sits down in his chair, composing himself quickly before he punches the bottom to place the call on speaker. Anton speaks calmly “Good Morning, Miss Monet. I am here with Dr Jeffery Kozinski, What brings you to call upon us at this early hour?” The sound on the other end of the phone seemed as thought the woman was not expecting the response she just got. “Well, Good Morning Kozinkski Brothers. Though I must admit, I was not expecting to have both of you on the line this morning. But I am pleased nonetheless. We have a situation down at the hospital that requires the both of you to immediately come down. Dr Kozinkski’s phenomenal skills along with another part will be needed in this endeavor. Where as you CEO Kozinkski, This situation deals with you directly” The brothers looked at one another, both of which dropped their jaws in shock that suddenly their both tied up in something involving the hospital. Anton collects himself first “If I might ask, what is the situation, Miss Monet?” They hear her sighing heavily “My sincerest apologizes but all I can tell you is this. It is a matter of life and death” They look at each other once more, horror shock written all over their faces. Jeffery is the one to pitch in this time “give us one hour and we will both be there”. She chides back “thank you both, see you in one hour”

Suddenly, it is as if lightning strikes both of them in the hind end and they are bolting to separate bathrooms. quickly showering. Though Anton stops for a moment in front of the mirror, thinking if he might shave but decides not to. both of them dressing quickly. Jeffery more in a casual outfit but still doctor ready with slacks and a button down. Anton dressing in his usual 4 piece suit with black loafers. They each grab their keys and light jackets. heading out the door, the decided quickly to take separate cars. Arriving at the hospital just shortly before the end of the hour. Now coming up at 5 in the morning. They meet in the lobby, Anton having time to stop and grab coffee, hands his brother his own. Taking the elevator to the third floor. Stepping off, they are meet with a woman sitting there. She instantly recognized Jeffery as she greeted him “Good Morning Dr Kozinski…” she trails off as he catches the face of the man beside him at practically drops her jaw “My Apologize Anton Sir, I was not informed that you and your brother were identical twins.” collecting herself quickly, she guides the both to conference room that was set up while they were on their way into the hospital “Please take a seat and we can get started” She stands by a projector as she waits for them to settle in “Now, I must ask a question of Validity and i ask for complete honesty here as i said earlier. It is a matter of life and death here”

Both men nodded as they looked from each other to the social worker “Anton, This question is to you” she digs in the folder before her as she passes him a form “Do you recognize this and if so, is that your signature at the very bottom of the page” Anton gently excepts the paper. looking over it before his face becomes ghost white. Jeffery looks over at him, seeing the pale look in his brother’s face. Before Jeffery can look at it, Anton turns it face down while looking at his brother “we will discuss this part later” Anton then turns to the social worker “Yes on both accounts. But what does this have to do with a matter of life and death?” The social worker then flips on the projector before dimming the lights “Then we can proceed. It is very difficult to relay this as i understand what I am about to show you was classified because of that paper until just this morning” She removes the cover on the projector as a birth certificate appears on the projector “Dr Kozinkski, take a moment please and read allowed what you see before you” Jeffery, puts on his reading glasses before he clears his throat “This is a Birth Certificate, clearly stating that a baby boy named Justice Alexander was born to a mother, whose name is blocked out and a father who…”his voice trails off as he then looks to his brother before snatching the paper on the table. Before Jeffery’s eyes, he reads a docket insuring payment for sperm disposition at a local sperm bank. Turning his attention back to the screen, he continues half heartedly “Born…”his eyes grow wide “today but 13 years ago….September 13, 1961.” He stops talking but then looks at the social worker. She moves back to the projector, turning it off, lifting the lights back into the room before grabbing the folder and moving over to Anton and handing it to him before addressing them both “I know your going to ask ‘But what does this have to do with life or death’ it is simple. this file in which i am giving you now, has a document nullifying Anton of any responsibility to any child born from his donations, unless something were to happen to the mother AND there were no other relatives to take in a child. I’m going to give you both a little bit of time, go through the folder, you are about to have your world changed, if you do the right thing here” With that, she steps out of the conference room, leaving the brother’s to mull over the file

Inside the file, they found pictures of the young man. letters of accomplishment from the schools in which he was attending. The donor and child blood type match and percentage of possibility of parentage already there. There was no denying that Anton was in fact the father of Justice. He could see in the pictures the very resemblance of the young man as he grew older. He was the spitting image of the men who sat in the conference room. Though they could see, Justice takes after his father, early in life with the subtle whiskers about his chin. They close the folder, and look at each other. Anton speaks first “Yes I know, your thinking to yourself, ‘When did i find time to even donate’ remember the summer just before we both started school. You got your scholarship where as i did not. I had to figure out how I was going to continue. That is when it happened. 4 donations a week, 3 months. $50000 total, which all went to admission fees and housing” Jeffery leaned back, taking all of this in “I understand now why we are both here. something has happened and it is time to get to the bottom of this. for our family and the sake of your son” the last word spoken by Jeffery caused Anton to let go. tears began to well in the stoic mans face. He could not deny it, he has a son, an heir “you are right” he says through soft sobs.

Suddenly heels can be heard coming back into the room as they both look up “I take it the realization of this situation has hit the both of you. and you have decided” Anton clears away the tears and speaks with a calm reverence “Yes, you said, I would only know of my son if something happened to his mother and her family” she cleared her throat before continuing “Yes, this is why we must act fast and why you, Dr. Kozinksi were asked for by the director. Regardless of your being involved or whatever. The director wants you working on this one.” She turns back to Anton “Midnight tonight, there was a car accident, T-bone collision with another vehicle. The mother was the last remaining of her family and was doa at the scene But…” Both brother’s have a look of horror on their face and try to interrupt her “before you jump, please allow me to finish here. Your son was in the backseat in his belt buckle. Though he is in ICU, he is currently in a coma. Vitals are stable at present but he needs a kidney along with bone marrow transplant. You two need to decide right now, who is giving what because I have already checked the compatibility with what we have on file. He now has a 200% chance of survival if you work together on this” Without even discussing it Jeffery pipes up and states matter of factly “He can have my marrow” Anton shoots up and states at the same time, “he can have a kidney from me”. she drops her jaw as he eyes go wide “what, are you both trying for humanitarian?. come with me, before we go to the lab, I want to show you what you are saving” The brothers look at each other before following her. She leads them back to the elevator, taking them to the second floor before turning left after exiting and walking into the Intensive Care Ward. Walking down the hall before stopping half way down. She turns her back to the wall, leaning back as she stands beside a patient room door. It stands open, and they both walk in. taking a spot on both sides of the bed. they look down at the young man, Anton speaks softly “We will bring you home Justice” After speaking, he turns and heads back out the door. turning to the social worker. “lets get this started”

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Iwai Munehisa was a name that should’ve been familiar to any self-respecting gay porn connaisseur. That man personally directed and wrote an entire catalog of critically acclaimed porn that launched his once small company into the spotlight. His penchant for mixing various genres with sharply written dialogue made him an auteur within the industry.

Iwai was currently in his Shibuya-based studio browsing through his neverending stack of paperwork. Balancing between scouting for new talent and writing scripts for upcoming movies was no easy task. He kept a watchful eye on Twitter for any rising talents and made extra sure to represent actors of various body types, ethnicities, and backgrounds. Iwai took great pride in the diversity of his studio and was going to make damn sure that everyone felt represented. It was this meticulous work ethic, however, that often left him glued to his work desk.

” I need a fuckin’ break..” He grumbled while fishing in his pocket for the bag of weed he always kept at hand. The green herb was rolled up into a fine blunt which Iwai soon lit up in his mouth. A perfect medicinal method to calm his mind. Iwai was about to take a nap on his couch when he heard his phone buzz on his desk. He turned the device on to see that it was a private message.

” Hey there. I’m Dojima Ryotaro and I’ve been a massive fan of your work over the years, Mr. Iwai. It’s like you surpass yourself with every movie you make. Your films have done so much for the gay community so I wanna do my part by being one of your actors. Check out my resume when you have the time and let’s see where we go from there.” The message read.

” Well, that’s new.” Iwai usually didn’t get private messages and the ones he did were approved by his assistants. He figured Dojima must’ve been loaded with either extra charisma or extra cash to get the assistants to approve the message. Under the line of text was a video mp4 link. Upon clicking it, the screen displayed an image of Dojima in a suit smiling for the camera.

“It’s like looking into a mirror.” Though the two men didn’t exactly look alike, both had short grey hair with a five o clock shadow to complete the rugged look. Dojima had a big buff and hairy chest that most men would love to dive into. Iwai could see why Dojima looked up to him. Dojima’s pic soon faded and the next thing Iwai knew, he was watching the man getting his back blown out in a hotel hallway.

” Damn that nigga is stacked! He’s a daredevil too from the looks of it.” Iwai wasn’t expecting the man to not only be a bottom but also into public sex. Most guys with his appearance were mostly just into topping and keeping it on the DL. Dojima’s plump ass was on full display in that hall as it got a savage beating. Dojima seemed to be laughing from the sheer pleasure of dick even when shocked people stumbled upon the scene.

The video turned out to be a collection of the copious amount of sex Dojima had over the years. Iwai was impressed by how diverse Dojima’s clientele was; he collabed with men who were dark skin, some who were chubby, and others who were mixed race. To top it all off, the video contained 53 different sex clips. Dojima would occasionally be the top in some videos and fuck men even thicker than he was. Iwai could tell Dojima had the values he was looking for.

” Just finished reviewing your resume and I gotta say you blew it outta the fucking park. Shit like that makes my day. Come down to my studio in four hours and you got yourself an interview. Oh yeah, try to work up a sweat before you get here. Im in the mood for manly musk.” He texted.

A reply came only a few minutes later. ” Really? That’s awesome! I look forward to meeting you. I promise I’ll make it worth your time.”

The four hours passed and Dojima was now in the lobby of DevilBrew studio. He wore a grey tracksuit he recently jogged in; sweat streaking down his forehead.

‘ You finally did it, Dojima. This is such a major career boost I can hardly believe it. More importantly, I get to be with my idol. This day can’t get any better.’ Dojima couldn’t help smile to himself when he thought about how all his hard work was paying off.

He told the desk receptionist his business and was then told to have a seat. After a few minutes of waiting, Dojima was face to face with his Idol Iwai. The scruffy man in a hat extended his hand to shake.

” You must be Dojima. That was one hell of a resume you sent me. Let me show you around the place.”

” I’m flattered. You have no idea how honored I am to be here.” Dojima shook the hand and followed Iwai down a long corridor. He tried to play it cool but the truth was that butterflies were dancing in Dojima’s stomach. Iwai led him to a small room where several men were working out.

” This is our gym. We have treadmills and dumbells available to help keep our actors in tip-top shape. Some of the guys’ll even do yoga with you and give nutritional advice if you ask.” Iwai waved at the group of sweaty buff men doing bench presses. They stopped everything they were doing and swooned at him like a pack of schoolgirls.

” You certainly have a pull over them. I’ve never seen grown men squeal like that.” Dojima awkwardly waved back at the guys and checked the equipment. ” Nice set up you got. I didn’t know porn studios had gyms.”

” DevilBrew is a rare exception. We received a lot of donations from loyal fans that make stuff like this possible. C’mon, let’s move on.” Iwai was already off to the next designated on their tour. He walked down to a room adjacent to rhe stairwell at the end of the hall.

” These are our bathrooms you can find on every floor. We made sure the design could give employees some eye candy when takin’ a shit.” The tiles and walls were drawn with an aesthetic inspired by the famous great wave of Kanagawa painting. Even the stall doors had a mesmerizing blue and white color scheme to compliment the overall feel. ” Each toilet comes with a bidet a pre poop spray to mask any smell,” Iwai added.

” At least I’ll be shittin’ in style,” Dojima remarked and both men laughed. Dojima was impressed that Iwai would go this far to give his workers a luxury expression. He figured that Iwai was a lot kinder than his resting bitch face would imply. Iwai led him up a flight of stairs and then down another hall.

” These are our bathrooms you can find on every floor. We made sure the design could give employees some eye candy when takin’ a shit.” The tiles and walls were drawn with an aesthetic inspired by the famous great wave of Kanagawa painting. Even the stall doors had a mesmerizing blue and white color scheme to compliment the overall feel. ” Each toilet comes with a bidet a pre poop spray to mask any smell,” Iwai added.

” At least I’ll be shittin’ in style,” Dojima remarked and both men laughed. Dojima was impressed that Iwai would go this far to give his workers a luxury expression. He figured that Iwai was a lot kinder than his resting bitch face would imply. Iwai led him up a flight of stairs and then down another hall.

” On this floor we have shower rooms available for everyone. I recommend bringing your own soap cause it does get expensive keeping everything stocked. We also have small bedrooms located throughout the building. They’re mostly for filming sex videos, but we let some actors sleep over occasionally. The third floor has the cafeteria, my office, and a writing room for future movies but we can get to that later. Let’s get to what you really came here for.” Iwai opened up one of the bedroom doors and motioned for Dojima to come inside.

The room came with a freshly made bed, a nightstand, a drawer, and a window that overlooked the city. Essential oil diffusers were burning to give the air a sweet vanilla smell. It felt like walking into a hotel.

” I hope you remembered what I told you about being musky. I’m in the moody to eat some sweaty ass right about now. ” Iwai took off his boots and laid his jacket on a chair. He rolled over on the bed and winked at Dojima. ” Come sit on daddy’s face.”

” With pleasure. I ran a couple of laps and did some squats at the park so my behind should be nice and rank.” Dojima removed his grey sweatpants to reveal he was wearing a jockstrap. All of the years Dojima spent doing leg workouts in the gym culminated in the hairy rip peach booty Iwai hungrily yearned for. Dojima stood on the bed before squatting his fat ass right on Iwai’s face. Iwai was immediately greeted with a sweaty asshole that gave him the musky smell he so desired. The manly fumes invaded his nose and the ass hairs tickled against him.

Iwai moaned in satisfaction of the smelly experience. His tongue slurped at the salty-tasting anus and was happy to see that Dojima instinctively knew to bounce his fat butt on the tongue. Iwai’s tongue pushed further into the anus where all the best flavor was. He groaned with delight from the dirty musky taste dancing on his taste buds. ” Gas me up my nigga.” Iwai moved his face to the side to speak only to bury it back in the ass.

Dojima was shocked both by Iwai’s request and his word choice. He always knew the director was blunt about most things but him saying that word so casually was so…. hot. ” Anything for you boss.” Dojima giggled and applied pressure to his colon. The fart came out as a loud trumpet-like horn. The smelly hot gas shot right up Iwai’s nostrils and gave him the biggest hard-on. That foul smell was everything he needed. Iwai tapped Dojima on his legs to let the man know he could get off.

” mhmm, you’re making a good impression on me. Now you just sit on the bed and let me take care of the rest.” Iwai slid off the bed and kneeled in front of Dojima. The other man stared down at his idol with a warm grin. ” Step on my face,” Iwai ordered.

” As you wish.” Dojima rubbed his sweaty feet against Iwai’s stubbly face. The porn director sniffed up the ripe scent like a dog on his prey. Dojima’s had subtle hints of vinegar and corn chips. Iwai became intoxicated with the manly scents giving him bliss. He suckled and licked on each toe to get the full flavor of the feet. Dojima giggled from how much the tongue tickled his feet.

” Brace yourself cause now we’re getting to the final part of this interview. I’m gonna suck you off and I expect you to shower me with praise. Tell me how much you love being a slut and why you look up to me.” Before Dojima had time to reply, Iwai was already sloppily slurping on his balls.

” Oh geez, I don’t even know where to begin. I experiment a little in college and knew since then I had an appetite for dick. My first time was with this Jamaican exchange student who was on the basketball team. He fucked me while the rest of the team were showering and that BBC is still one of the best dicks I ever had. We were so shocked when Coach walked in on us! He practically foamed at the mouth.” Dojima laughed as he recounted his sexually liberated past.

Iwai worked his mouth fiercely on the musky cock. His tongue wrapped around the shaft like a snake on its prey. Iwai didn’t suck dick too often so his technique was fairly simple. It was mostly just him licking the dirtiest parts of the dick to get all the best flavor.

” As for why I like you, well, you just make the kind of videos most directors don’t make. Your cast lists are filled with diverse actors and it’s like you have this special talent to find the biggest booty men in the country! The ass on that guy in your newest film was ginormous! You could stack a plate on those melons. Guys like that are my role models when it comes to butt exercises. Your actors always look like they’re having the time of their lives so I figured it would be like a dream come true working for you.” Dojima grits his teeth when Iwai began scraping his teeth against the tip.

Iwai swished saliva all over his mouth and puffed his cheeks as his head bobbed hungrily. Dojima wasn’t used to getting stimulated down there so it was hard for him to keep his composure. He much preferred taking it from behind. His stubbly face would scrunch up from how much Iwai caused his dick to twitch with euphoria. His member twitched profusely for a few minutes before he finally unloaded a torrent of semen into Iwai’s mouth. The director gulped it all down and laid flat on the bed next to Dojima. Both men panted heavily; exhausted from the thorough interview.

” You sure know to treat a guy, Iwai. It’s definitely going to be a pleasure working for you.” Dojima looked at Iwai with the widest grin.

” I appreciate the enthusiasm. Just keep what happened here between us. I usually only suck dick when it’s from cute bottoms but since you look like me, you’re a special exception. You have one hell of a career in store for you.” Iwai pulled Dojima in for a kiss, swishing the sperm between their mouths. The two hunks knew they were made for each other.