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After my last first time experience I was hooked on sex at an ABS theater and booths.  This time I went right to the booth with the largest hole.  I wanted to suck on a cock and the balls attached.  After a few cocks empting their loads in my mouth came a dry spell with no activity so I sat and watched the screen in front of me and slowly stroked my hard cock for some period of time.  

Then I heard some activity next to my booth.  As I look in the dark what I saw looked like a young man no more than 4 feet tall.  He dropped some money in and the screen lit up the booth and I saw it was a little person.  When he dropped his pants his dick was semi-erect and not at all what I expected.  He rubbed his short stubby finger through the hole meaning he wanted my dick so I stuck it through.  His mouth was right there and took it in.  He sucked me off like a pro.  When I unloaded my load I sat down and to rest.  The next thing I heard was his voice saying could he come over.  Being vey curious what he had in mind I said OK.

The door opened and he came end.  He asked if I liked anal sex and of course I said yes.  He then asked if he could have my ass for some fun.  Well I thought it could be interesting and fun.  He climbed on to the bench and dropped his pants exposing a bigger cock than I had.  I had brought some lube for use so he lubed his dick and my ass.   I baked up to the bench and he slid in with a minor pain then began to pound my ass  for several minutes then he began screwing my but hard and fasted until he dumped his load.  As pulled out he told me to stay as I was he had more to cum.

I’m obedient so I stayed as I was and could feel his cum oozing out my ass hole.  The next feeling was his tongue licking my hole making me feel all aroused again.  He licked and stuck his tongue driving me to another erection.   He told me jack off as he had more for my ass.  I felt a little finger enter my hole then 2 then 3.  My ass was well lubed and before I could say stop he had begun to put his hand up my ass.  This a first for me and glad his hand was so small.  It slipped is and he began to slid it back and forth in my as hitting my prostate causing me to ooze out my cu slowly as I jacked off.  It didn’t take long until I shot my load and my ass muscles clamped down  what I thought was his wrist.  As I finished spurting he pulled his hand out of butt causing a feeling of ecstasy I hadn’t felt before.

I had to sit down on the  bench where he stood.  I turned to say thanks and met his erect dick staring me in the face.  I took  it in and within a just a few seconds he loaded my mouth with his cum.  We both were exhausted so I asked for his name and number when he asked if I wanted more some day.  I got it and walked out totally satisfied and curious about what it would be like to “get more” with him.

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I have no idea how long the townhouse next door had been empty before someone noticed that the two women living there were gone. I did see the story in the local paper of the two women who drowned on Lake Stanley when their rowboat capsized and thought of it as both sad and a little weird, as no one was supposed to be out in a rowboat on Lake Stanley after dark. Also it happened in early March rather than the summer, and they were reported to be dressed in street clothes. That too was weird–the wrong season to be rowing on the lake and the wrong clothes to be wearing to do it. I didn’t connect that report with my neighbors until the workmen showed up next door, though.

I’m not an unfriendly man, although I was going through a bad patch myself at the time. This small townhouse in a reclaimed, once slum area, of the old town hadn’t belonged to me when I moved in. It belonged to a professor, Tim. I had been hired as his graduate assistant and had started working in his office at the local university. He was steeped in his research, which spilled over into his private time and which, therefore, spilled over into mine as well. It expanded out from working at the university office to working at his home, my duties gradually broadening to include the domestic and personal. One thing led to another, and, for convenience at first, I was spending nights at his house. And then, again for his convenience, I suppose, I was sleeping in his bed.

When he died suddenly of a flu advancing into pneumonia, I found that he’d left the townhouse to me, as well as everything else he owned. And at his unexpected absence from the university, associate and assistant professors were moved up the chain, and I was brought in at the bottom of the chain as an adjunct professor.

It all happened so naturally and quietly that it seemed to have happened without my full participation. I’d been quite fond of Tim, and I’ll admit that his taciturnity rubbed off on me. I too became a bit morose and withdrew into a routine that didn’t involve much beyond classes at the university and continued research at home–and doing whatever Tim asked me to do.

The women next door were set in a routine too–for how long before I moved in with Tim, I have no idea. Only one of them ever seemed to leave the townhouse. She was the older of the two and must have been a professional, as she’d leave at 8:15 every morning, almost on the dot, in a tailored, but somewhat severe business suit, and with a briefcase in her hand. There was a bus stop up in the next block, on a busier street than we lived in, that regularly serviced the downtown area. I guess I always assumed she took the bus, but in the news report, they said there was a sedan belonging to one of the women found at the lake right where they would have taken the row boat, so maybe she drove and had the car garaged someplace nearby. She always reappeared by 6:00 p.m., often with a grocery bag as well as the briefcase, and she’d march right up to her door and then look furtively up and down the street before entering the townhouse. I found that odd enough that I marked it in my mind. I wouldn’t see her again then until the next morning–assuming I was looking out on the street the next morning.

My routines and isolation were such, though, that I found I did look for her to follow her routines as well. Observing her almost-on-the-dot departures and arrivals became as much a routine with me as winding Tim’s old grandfather clock. That being the case, I did mark when her routine stopped, but I just subtracted those observations from my own daily routine after a few days of change.

Our townhouses were small and bunched together close to the street, with no alley behind, so there really wasn’t much of a place to put a car. The woman’s townhouse didn’t even have a parking pad. There was one for two cars, taking up nearly the whole front yard, for Tim’s townhouse, but he never used it for his car. Tim had his car, a fancy Lexus coup he didn’t want to leave out in the open, garaged over on the main street. It wasn’t a longer walk from the house to where he garaged the car than our subsequent walk from the parking garage to our academic building at the university was. These walks were just about the only regular exercise we got–well, other than what happened in bed, our most active part of the day. Still, we both kept in shape.

We’d used the Lexus almost exclusively to get to and from the university, and I inherited it too. Tim didn’t have any family–other than me, and I wasn’t really family in any legal sense. I did wait around from some long, lost relative to show up and make a claim, which I would not have contested, but none did. This all happened before same sex marriage had passed in our state, so my claim seemed tenuous.

The older woman, Inger, although I didn’t know her name until after she’d died, was maybe in her early fifties and was a big-boned Germanic blonde. She wasn’t exactly unfriendly, although no one on this block of townhouses got into anyone else’s business much, but she wasn’t inviting either. She often seemed to have a weary and pursed-lipped look about her when she came home, and, as I noted before, she had a habit of furtively looking about her before opening her door and entering her house. I found that fascinating and all a bit Alfred Hitchcock in the atmosphere it created.

The other woman was somewhat younger in appearance and was of some Southeast Asian extraction. She was a scared little bunny, sometimes coming a step out of the house either in front or back, but never more than a foot away from an open door in front, through which she’d scamper back into the house at the slightest sound or movement on the block. She did hang their laundry out to dry on a line in their postage-stamp-sized back garden, which I found a bit “last century,” but it accorded me an opportunity to observe what she looked like. She was very attractive, but always looked a bit sad–and she too had a tendency to look around with apprehension before settling down to her laundry chore. All mysterious enough to provide me a mental break from my research to pursue flights of fancy about their life.

I didn’t learn her name until after they were gone either, and then, first, from the newspaper article without realizing that it was my neighbor. Her name was Lek, and she was from Thailand.

I often wondered how the two women could be so reclusive and what they did in the townhouse, just the two of them. But then I’d think about Tim and me living in here next door to them and how so steeped in his research Tim could be that we could go for days on end not leaving the house when university classes weren’t in session. And I thought about some of what we were doing in here alone, and I decided not to think that much about the women next door.

I didn’t think about the women next door so much–the interest in observing them having waned quickly once they’d broken their routine and never appeared–that it was maybe a month after I’d read the article in the newspaper without connecting their absence to the article, when I heard a racket start up on the other side of the wall and my own doorbell was ringing.

I opened the door to find a muscular and florid man maybe in his early forties, robust looking in white coveralls with no shirt under them that left his arms bare, showing bulging guns and several tattoos peeking out of the edges of the coveralls. There were construction boots on his feet and his head was topped off with a white painter’s cap.

I shrank away from him a bit. Before there had been staid academic Tim, there’d been a brief period in my life when I had gladly lain under such men. I’d had a fetish for muscular construction workers and construction boots. I found when I opened the door that old instinctive arousals didn’t die easily.

“Excuse me, sorry to bother you,” he said. “But I’m from Falwell Construction. My name’s Andy, and I’m the supervisor of the crew renovating the house next door.”

“Construction crew? Renovating the house next door? But there are women living next door. And I hadn’t heard about any construction.”

I trust I didn’t sound either belligerent or annoyed. I certainly didn’t intend to, but I had just come downstairs–I wasn’t a morning person–and only now realized that there had been some strange noises coming from next door since well before I got up. I hadn’t had a cup of coffee yet, and so I wasn’t really in control of what I was thinking or saying yet.

I briefly panicked with the question of whether I’d even dressed before answering the door–whether I was still just in my sleeping pants and barefoot–but, upon mental inspection, I realized I was dressed more decently than that. Still, the furtive looks the man was giving me when he didn’t think I was looking at him made me wonder if I had dressed.

“The house is empty now,” he was saying. “Apparently has been for some time. Bank repo. We’re clearing it out and cleaning it up for sale. Not much room out here on the street, though, and I’ve got a truck that has to be here with my crew and we have to bring a dumpster in for a week or so for what we’ve got to shovel out of the house. Looks like the residents just up and left without taking anything with them.”

“Up and left?” I nonsensically said. I was searching my brain for the last time I’d seen one or both of the women from over there and I was coming up with a blank.

“Well, we aren’t supposed to know, but these were the women who died in Lake Stanley last month. So I guess they’re not coming back and they don’t need anything in the house–although it don’t look like there’s much in the house to be proud of. Place needs a lot of work too. Doesn’t look like anyone was in here to service anything in years.”

“Oh,” I said, just now processing the connection between the women who died in Lake Stanley and the women right next door who I hadn’t given a second thought to for more than a month. I was just as glad they hadn’t died in the house. I wouldn’t have been any quicker, I don’t think, to cluing in to the lack of activity over there–and the smell. Some neighbor, I knew, but this really was Tim’s house, and, given my relationship with Tim, we hadn’t exactly become the neighborhood gadflies.

“Well, the reason why I knocked on your door is that we really, really need space to put the dumpster, and there’s very little space around here. I saw that you have a double parking pad without anything on it. I was told to ask you if the construction company could rent your pad for a couple of weeks for the dumpster. We’d keep the dumpster covered when we weren’t filling it. The company would pay well for the inconvenience.”

“Oh, yes, of course. No need to pay me,” I said, giving the man–who was quite presentable in a way that was a whole separate world from what had been mine and Tim’s, and therefore of more interest and worth a second look than otherwise. I’d always had a little surge of electricity over men in construction–all that virility and muscle–and Andy met that description well. It was sort of a taboo and two different worlds thing, I guess. I had gone with construction workers in an earlier life, and I’d retained more than a few fantasies of going with a construction worker. And it had been a good six months since I’d gone with anyone–and that was Tim and had become a bit ho hum. Tim was an older man. Of course I did gravitate to older men. Of course, the construction workers who had covered me were older than I was too.

Andy was an older man. Maybe fifteen or sixteen years older than I was. But the construction workers I’d gone with had all been vigorous and meltingly demanding in a way Tim never had been. Tim gave me rather more respect in the coupling than really aroused me. There’s no way I ever would have told him that, of course.

The construction foreman named Andy returned my smile and suddenly looked like a million dollars to me. But I knew that wasn’t going anywhere–or shouldn’t–so we just exchanged pleasantries and I left him to supervising the work next door. That day–and in succeeding days–I didn’t get much research or course preparation done, though, as I found myself frequently at one of the front windows, looking at an angle over at the small front yard of the townhouse next door, where there was a double-cab white truck with a Falwell Construction logo painted on the door pulled up on the more-dirt-than-grass verge between the front stoop and the street.

The workmen Andy was directing–all young and well-muscled and jovial men–swirled between the truck and the house, hauling in tools and hauling out split sections of drywall. I wanted to see what sort of furnishings would come out of the house. Maybe there was something I could salvage and use. But they seemed to be doing structural work now. This stood to reason, I decided, since the dumpster hadn’t arrived yet.

They also seemed to be having a good time and getting along very well despite being engaged in some heavy-duty work–very well, as a matter of fact. They were all banter and hands and sexual innuendo and “fuck this” and “fuck that” and “ream you a big one” with each other. Andy was directing them, but pleasantly–and in a very friendly manner. Very friendly indeed. More than once I saw him pat one of the young men on the butt or give one a bear hug.

It was, I was sure, all very innocent, but it set my mind aflutter. I hadn’t really given much thought to having once had a construction worker fetish–which I sometimes carried out–before I lived with Tim, but those fantasies certainly were stirring now. And I’ll admit that they were the source of more masturbatory sessions in the dark of the night than I customarily indulged in after Tim died.

He was a big, heavily muscled, manly musk-scented brute, certainly too powerful for me to fight in any way. We were in an unfinished house, bare wall framing, sawdust on the floor, unfinished floors. I was completely in his control. I had shuddered and gone powerless as he cornered me, putting his hands on me and talking “gonna fuck you hard,” “gonna ream you a bigger hole” dirty to me. Just the thought of that and look of him made me putty in his hands.

There was a straight chair, and he had his right leg lifted, his foot, in a heavy construction boot, flat on the seat of the chair, with my right leg trapped up and over his. I was bent over in front of him, both of my arms forced painfully up my back, him needing just one beefy hand to hold them together there in a grip that was painful on my wrists and an angle of stretch that was painful on my arms. I was gasping for breath, panting because he was already thick and long inside me, buried deep but just barely pulsating as yet. His right arm was wrapped around my waist, keeping me bent over there in front of him. My eyes were on the colorful snake tattoo wound around his right calf–and also on his shiny construction boots, polished by my tongue. He’d made me slither across the floor and clean his boots with my tongue–and to beg to be fucked.

I yelped, giving it a hollow sound that assured me that I wasn’t really awake, as he began to stroke inside me with his cock. In and out; in and out; in deeper and hold; pull out to the rim of the bulb and plunge, causing me to gasp and jerk and groan. Even unconscious I had the presence of mind to search my memory for whether this had actually happened to me before–or if this was a true fantasy of what I would want if I unleashed my desires and let them run wild. I was ready to come. I screwed my face around to see his and was shocked. As I shot off in an arc over the sawdust-covered floor, the face registered–Andy, the construction foreman working next door.

I woke up in a sweat and with cum dotting the front of my sleeping shorts. I was gripping my still-hard and throbbing cock. I wasn’t fully awake, though–just fully satisfied for some reason–maybe for the first time since before I’d met Tim, I had to admit to myself. I went over the scene in my mind, trying to decide whether I was bothered that I’d had a wet dream about the construction foreman working next door. And I should have known it earlier in the dream than I did. Andy sometimes wore shorts rather than bib coveralls, and I’d seen the snake tattoo on his right calf before. I just hadn’t realized that the eroticism of it had stuck with me.

The next day I tried to keep myself busy with research. I almost regretted that I didn’t have any classes to cover at the university. But my mind kept drifting to what was happening next door. I don’t know at what point it hit me that they were working so hard and had been at it for a few hours and therefore could probably use a break and a cup of coffee. It would only be neighborly to offer them a cup of coffee. I went into the kitchen and scrounged around under the counter for the twenty-cup pot Tim had used for class and faculty meetings. After finding the urn I discovered I was out of coffee. There was beer in the refrigerator. Even better, I thought.

* * * *

“What could have made them want to do that, I wonder. They were reclusive, yes, but I can’t really believe that taking a rowboat out on a lake at night in early March and both falling out of the boat and drowning was an accident.”

“No, it wasn’t any accident,” Andy agreed. He was sitting at my kitchen table, on his lunch break. They’d been working on the house next door for several days now and I had started making them sandwiches and taking them over at lunch. They were such a convivial crew and so good looking that I felt comfortable and a little bit warm inside to have that bit of connection. I’d already dealt with the wet dream I’d had of Andy. It was just me not having had sex for some time and thinking back to my days before I’d met Tim. I’d given all of that up, though. That was behind me. I’d grown up.

Today, for the first time, Andy came into the house and ate with me while the rest ate over there on the job.

Until now, I hadn’t realized how lonely I’d felt without Tim in the house and in this hiatus between semesters at the college. And I certainly couldn’t concentrate on research, not with a dumpster sitting right outside my dining room window and me running there each time I heard a clunk to maybe see what was being tossed–and who was tossing it. It didn’t escape me that I was more interested in seeing what was what out there than annoyed at the interruption of my work.

Strong, hunky construction workers in those loose, white coveralls, with no shirts under them, giving the impression that was all they were wearing. Heavy-duty construction boots, wide-stance strutting to and from the dumpster like they were heavy hung. Moving with the grace of dancers, contrasting tantalizingly with the hulkiness and roughness of their bodies. All smiles, patting each other on the back and rump intimately. The construction supervisor, Andy, moving among them, more muscular than any of them. Tattoos on his bulging biceps as well as on his calf. Rough, calloused, but sensitive, hands, moving expressively. He so attentive as he sat at my kitchen table.

“There must be some story behind it,” I said, “and to think that it was developing just on the other side of this wall from me and I didn’t know it was happening–or care.”

“You mustn’t be hard on yourself,” Andy said, giving me a sympathetic look and ever so briefly touching my forearm with his rough, calloused fingers. “That’s the way it is with city life. I’m sure you were having your own concerns here.”

“Yes, I guess I was.” That’s when I told him about Tim and how harrowing it was that week that Tim was dying and there wasn’t anything anyone could do–or was doing–to prevent that. It, of course, was only a week, though, and whatever was developing next door surely built up over much longer time than that. But Andy was right about urban life. Everyone here husbands their privacy. I couldn’t say that either of the women, even the few times I saw them, appeared to be open to approach. Not that I ever gave a thought to approaching either one of them.

“But I guess I shouldn’t be so revealing,” I said, suddenly not sure of the vibes I had thought I got off this man. What if it was all in my hysterical fantasies–like in the wet dream of the other night? “I hadn’t told you before that I’d lived here with a man. I hadn’t thought that maybe you didn’t . . . and didn’t approve of . . .”

“I’ve seen the photographs of you and an older man. You have them around here on several tables. I figured it out. Don’t worry. You two look happy in the photos.”

“We were,” I said, with a low voice.

“He must have given you everything you needed,” Andy said, the edge of natural gruffness in his voice tempered.

“Yes, yes, he did,” I answered.

But had he? Had Tim giving me everything I needed? He was an attentive but a pretty tame lover. Were my recent fantasies telling me I wanted more than that?

“He gave me everything I had a right to have from him,” I answered, hedging now for some reason I couldn’t explain.

Andy smiled, put a hand on my forearm, and said, “You should have everything you need.”

It was only after Andy went back to work that I realized that, from my explanation of Tim’s death, Andy realized the full extent of the gay relationship we’d had–what positions we took, how I let Tim dominate me as he liked. And yet he hadn’t shown the slightest hint of revulsion. Could it be that I’d also revealed that what Tim gave me was a little tame?

“I keep wondering if there is anything in that house that would give a clue to why they did what they did,” I said as Andy was getting up to return to work, the stiff rustle of his white coveralls arresting my attention, taking my eyes to the square-cut top with the curly chest hair cascading over it and the deep cut at the sides, showing hard, tanned skin down to his waist, as well as more tattooing.

“I’ve thought of that too.” he answered. “Not much I’ve found, there isn’t.”

“Not much? You found something?”

“Well, their tables had photographs on them–of the two of them–very similar to the photos you have here of you and your . . . your other.”

“Ah,” was all I could think to say.

He pressed on. “There weren’t any papers in the desk. There’s little furniture, but other than not having taken care of maintenance in the house, it wasn’t really cluttered. And nothing really in terms of personal affects that would tell you anything about the women–other than the photos, and they pretty much spelled out what the women were to each other. The lack of maintenance puzzles the estate agent too. There is a tidy sum in the estate; it was like the women didn’t care that there was water draining down into the downstairs walls from leaks in the bathroom.”

“Strange and mysterious,” I said.

“Yes, it is. And perplexing.”

“It’s almost like they were afraid to let workmen in the house. But, I guess it’s not really our place to delve into their lives in death when we didn’t do it while they were alive,” I said.

“No, I guess not,” Andy answered. “It’s bad to take too much for granted . . . or to rush anyone into deciding what they want.”

He didn’t sound too convinced, though. And, more important, he seemed to waver there, as if he wanted to make some parting gesture, some personal connection. But the moment passed and he just thanked me for the lunch–and for the sandwiches for Joe and Mitchell out there, the good-looking guys who were doing the grunt work. And then he left me, to bask in the glow of having had him at my table for lunch. Knowing what that meant to me–how it affected me–but content to let it build apace . . . or not. I went to the refrigerator to see what sort of different lunch I could put together for the workman the next day.

And then I was going to have to make a trip upstairs and indulge in a fantasy.

* * * *

“I found something. And I brought it.” That sounded intriguing, but all of my senses were already occupied with Andy’s hand that was gripping my forearm at the kitchen table and showed no sign of withdrawing anytime soon. I reveled at the electricity that touch sent through my body. I don’t think that I had been as aroused as that by anything Tim had done during our entire relationship.

That Andy’s hands were calloused, throwing me out of the academic context I lived in, gave me a guilty thrill. Tim’s hands had always been so smooth skinned–an academic’s hands. It was like Andy and I were doing something illicit–deliciously taboo–when we were just sitting at the kitchen table and talking.

“Mitchell found it behind a radiator in a bedroom and brought it to me.” And then, when I couldn’t do more than look at Andy with want in my eyes, willing his hand to move elsewhere, he continued. “One of them was keeping a diary. One of them, Lek her name is, was Thai. Here illegally, it seems. I read the last month of entries before I brought it over. But I want you to read them too.”

“Me?”

“Yes. It explains a lot. But it also says some things that I think you need to read. And with me here. Here, I’ll open it to where it begins.”

“Oh, she’s speaking of being in hiding,” I said after reading the passages his finger was on–not the fingers of the hand gripping my arm, though. That was still there. “She talks of having been brought from Thailand by a U.S. serviceman who promised to marry her. But didn’t. Who was abusive instead. Oh, Inger, the other woman worked as a social services caseworker. I’d never known that. Always wondered what she did–and why she always looked so beaten down when she dragged home.”

“Yes. And look there. The Thai woman wasn’t here legally if there wasn’t a marriage. And she says the guy threatened to kill her if he could find her.”

I turned the pages and read random passages. “So, Inger wasn’t just hiding Lek. They started up a relationship–an intimate relationship. Lek speaks of how guilty she thought when that started. And then about how the guilty feelings had just eaten up time they could have had together. Well, we’re not surprised about that, are we?”

“Or shocked by it, either, I’ll wager,” Andy said, his voice low and hoarse. His hand had moved from my forearm down to my knee, the grip just as strong, the electricity current that ran through my body even stronger. “Neither am I,” he said. “I fully understand their need. The need of anyone who is lonely and is capable of a love like they developed for each other. I particularly understand the Thai woman’s regret of waiting so long to acknowledge what she wanted, what she needed.”

“But I wonder what made them snap?” I asked. “I didn’t hear any fighting through those walls, and God knows I get it from the townhouse on the other side of me. The arrangement seemed to have been working. Do you suppose this bastard tracked Lek down?”

“There are indications he might have been getting close, yes. But look here further along. I think this is what did it.”

“Ah. Inger. A diagnoses of terminal cancer. And quickly approaching. I see.” And I did, in fact, see. I saw how hopeless their situation had become.

“Do you see it all, though, I wonder,” Andy said in a deep voice.

“What is it I should see?”

“Their devotion to each other, yes. But also how fleeting life is, how lonely it can be if you don’t seize it, how long it took them to acknowledge what they wanted, needed. How you have to take what pleasures you can get out of life where and when you can get them.”

“Yes, I see that.”

“Do you really? The pity is that they couldn’t see past Inger’s condition as a reason to end it all then. They could have continued to the last–and then something could have been done to allow Lek to live on. Just like you have to live on after your own lover’s death. Do you see that?”

“Yes,” I answered in a low voice.

“They let the situation defeat them without fighting for themselves to the end. You don’t really want to give in to it like they did, do you?”

“No.” It almost came out as a sob.

“You’ve invited me into your house because you’re lonely, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I guess so.”

“But not just that. It’s because you want something–need something.”

“Yes.” I had hesitated in answering and when I did, it was with a moan. He had moved his hand again. He was leaning his face in close to mine, his eyes searching mine–seeing what he wanted to see.

“I have my hand on your crotch now. You are hard.”

“Yes. Yes.”

“You’re not moving away from me, or asking me to leave. You want me. You want me on top of you, inside you, fucking you.”

“Yes. Yes. Can’t you hear me? I’m saying yes.”

“How do you want it–how do you really need it? My guess is that your lover gave it to you soft. Was soft good enough for you?”

“Hard, rough, no prisoners. I want to feel it. I want you to rough me up with your hands. And I want you to keep your boots on. I want to know that it’s a rough man fucking me.” Each syllable came out of me in a gasp. It was how I wanted it. How I had missed getting it.

He laughed. It was a deep, cruel laugh, and it caused me to shudder in anticipation.

He fucked me upstairs, on my own bed. He showed concern that I wouldn’t want to do that–in the bed that Tim and I had shared. And, although the sensitivity he showed within his rough, construction-worker exterior was part of what had drawn me to him, I wanted him to fuck me in the same bed. And I told him that. And I also told him I didn’t want him to take any prisoners. I wanted him to fuck me hard, take me roughly, fully. Tim had always been so gentle, felicitous. I appreciated that at the time, but I wanted something different now. Life was too short not to have it all. Lek and Inger had taught me that.

It was clear he was doing this for me. He was solicitous until I let him know that’s not the way I wanted it–that I knew this wasn’t the way he was doing it with the other workers.

“I don’t think you have any idea–” he started to say.

But then I told him about my experience before Tim–that I had been fucked hard, roughly, brutally by construction workers beyond the beaded curtains separating a barroom and the corridor to the bathrooms once when I was in college. That Tim never fucked me that way, and I know knew it hadn’t been enough. I only knew now, being with a big man in heavy construction, shit-kicker heavy construction boots and all, that this was how I wanted it.

“How hard do you want it?,” he asked in a gravelly voice, as everything off but those construction boots he rolled over on top of me on the bed, his arms wrapped around my neck, his hard dick throbbing up my belly, and came out of a deep kiss.

“Hard. I want it hard,” I answered. “Rough. Total. I want to know I’ve been fucked. It’s been too fuckin’ long.”

He crushed me to the bed, his body heavier and chunkier than Tim’s. He was thicker, longer than Tim. He spread my thighs open with his knees and positioned his sheathed cock at my hole. I panted hard as the thick bulb breached the rim and held there, briefly, as, panicked, I fought to open to it, knowing he wouldn’t let me–because of how I’d said I wanted it. His expression was lustful now, slightly cruel. I had given permission for whatever he wanted.

I pushed up with my pelvis, wanting the thrust to be straight and as accommodating as possible, and, with a mutter of “You’re a little slut for it, aren’t you?” and a guttural laugh, he raised himself a bit on his knees to allow me to raise my butt. Neither one of us was acting like the people we were in leading up to this, and I think our earlier interaction was truer–but this was true for what I wanted and needed, and I think Andy was melding to that.

With a thrust, he forced himself inside me before I was completely open to him, letting me know he was going to stretch me to the limit, pound me forever, cause me to scream out in pain mixed with passion, until passion won out, I joined him in the rhythm, and begged him never to stop. And then, when he did in a mutual explosion, begged him to start again, which, with a laugh, he obliged. So utterly different from anything Tim had ever given me, had ever done inside me. And I was so hungry for it.

He filled me, he stretched me, he hit all of the spots. I managed to turn him on his back and saddle myself on his cock, and ride, ride, ride. He had a vigor that far surpassed anything I’d remembered before.

He lifted me off his cock and tossed me to the floor beyond the foot of the bed and sat on the end of the bed, cock in hand, still wearing his construction boots.

“Crawl to me on your belly,” he growled, and I slithered to him, kissing the snake tattoo on his calf and moving my tongue down to his boot tops.

He bent me over the foot of the bed, his right leg bent and his booted foot on the bed, while he grabbed my wrists in one hand and pushed my arms painfully up my back. Thrusting up hard inside me, he began to pump again. Mewing my want, I tongued down his snake tattoo back onto the top of his boot and came for him in great gobs of pent-up cum.

We went back up on the bed, Andy on his back, and me riding him until he too had a gushing ejaculation. When we were spent, he rolled me off him and, while his hands explored my bruised and satisfied body, said, “You were a little slut for it.” I could almost hear the awe and surprise in his voice.

“Yes, sorry,” I answered.

“Don’t be sorry. You know, Joe . . . and Mitchell too would like–”

“Yes, oh God, yes, please.”

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

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STORY BY JETT
**********************

The morning following getting my ass drilled by Jorge and Levi at the same time, I went to work at the bank, Jorge went to his college classes and Levi went to the college that morning to register for his classes for the following semester. I met Levi after work and we headed straight to the rugby field where the sexy hard body rugby players were still practicing. I became horny as hell with a growing erection as I watched those hard athletic bodies and muscled legs collide fighting for the ball. I noticed that Levi had also grown a stiff tent in his pants. We both were lusting for these hot jocks and hoped that Jorge’s invitation for us to meet him and the team would pay great dividends. It had been months since I’d had a free range of cock since I’d been in this monogamous relationship with Jorge. Well we were now free to return to being gay sluts.

At the end of practice, Jorge brought 35-year-old sexy Coach Leo over to the sidelines and introduced us. I knew Jorge had informed Coach Leo what we were up to when I noticed the Coach’s eyes were lustful as he stared at our  crotches.

Coach Leo greeted us with a big smile and said: Hey Levi and Jett, why don’t you join us in the locker room?”

When we arrived in the locker room, shit the place was filled with at least 100 Fucking gorgeous sweaty athletes from several teams at the college who had just finished practice. Although I was so turned on by the most large number of naked jocks I’d ever been with, I knew no sex would take place under these conditions. But Coach Leo and Jorge had a plan. As the room was filled with talk and laughter, Coach Leo yelled: “Attention rugby players; I want to see in my office Jorge, Johnny, Brandon, Logan, Colby, Eli, Felix, Sonny, Max, and Chris. Levi and Jett why don’t you join us?’

Holy shit six of the guys were butt naked and the other guys only had on their briefs and were so well hung. The guys were so hot in their sweaty condition and all that locker room odor of hot men. I felt my ass lips puckering just thinking about what might happen to my ass with all this cock in the room.

Coach Leo led us to his big conference room. As we sat around the table with all these sweaty bodies, the Coach used the pretense of reviewing the day’s practice for pluses and minuses. Then Coach Leo excused himself to make a telephone call. Soon Jorge led us back to the locker room that was now vacant.

After the guys had all showered, all hell broke loose as the guys began to smack each other’s butts with their towels. Man those bubble asses began to get red and my cock got stiff. Then Jorge grabbed Johnny; threw him on a wrestling mat; had Levi and I to undress; Jorge put me down on the mat beside naked Johnny, the only other bottom in the room; and Coach Leo entered the room totally naked. Man was he a big dude. He stood 6-feet and 3-inches; weighed 190 muscled pounds; had a huge 11-inch cock that was rock hard and bobbing up and down; a herculean stud; and he headed straight to me. My ass began to pucker as Coach Leo got down by me. Johnny and I had been put on our stomachs with our legs spread exposing our asses. Could I take that policeman-like nightstick up my ass? Man I wanted to try.

The games began, as I got lucky with Caoch Leo. He got between my legs and soon he beagn to lick and suck on my wet ass. He sucked my ass lips and used two fingers to open me up and he took two fingers and gave my prostate an awesome massage. I moaned and begged him not to stop.

I looked over at fucking bottom Johnny and there was my buddy Levi getting the first crack at that hot ass. I heard Johnny moan and beg: “Oh Fuck Yea, eat my ass. suck my ass, yea that is it put that hot tongue in my pussy.”

As I looked at that hot ass of Johnny and Levi’s tongue at work, Oh hell, I felt Coach Leo’s big cock press hard against my ass. He pushed hard and the first try was not successful as my ass muscles closed. He lubed my ass some more and used his whole body to thrust his big missile into my ass with a hard thrust widening my sphineter letting Daddy in me. I felt his warm shaft thrust against my ass walls pushing them outward. I became wild with lust as his big hard body laid down on my back and he began to wildly fuck me. He fucked me with total abandonment for a long time. I moaned and grunted with pure pleasure.

“Oh Coach, fuck yea, give me all that baby making dick of yours. Give it to me like you give it to your wife’s pussy that makes all those babies. Harder and harder.”

I became even more turned on when I heard the sounds from Johnny and Levi as Levi’s cock had invaded that man pussy and he was using his entire body to pound that ass with no mercy.

In the meantime, all the other guys were standing around and above us watching the show and all the fucking as they masturbated and stroked their big cocks with gobs of pre-cum formed on their piss slits that dropped on Johnny and my backs.

Then I heard Levi grunt like a pig and he shot his semen deep in Johnny’s ass. As Coach Leo saw Levi pull his dripping spent cock out of Johnny’s drenched pussy, it sent shivers all through Leo’s body; he pounded my ass harder three more times driving his massive cock deep in my pussy. I felt his cock stiffen, his body became rigid and holy shit he dumped a mother load of his baby making semen in me. My ass was swimming in this large pool of of cum as Coach Leo pulled out his horse-like cock.

Then I got the surprise of my life when Jorge had me stand up as all that cum begin to drip out of my ass and onto the floor and he said: “Coach Leo has to shower and get home for dinner with his family; Johnny too has to clean up and get to the nightclub where he is the main feature for the male stripper show this evening; and Sergeant Levi is scheduled to meet with some possible college recruits for the U S Army. Now Jett, you are going to be the star performer for the remaining nine horny jocks.”

“Jorge, holy fuck, you mean I’m the lone bitch for you nine stable studs? Man, I’ve never been a slut for that many dudes in one night.”

“Relax Jett, we will be gentle but you are going to get sucked and fucked by us. This will be your first real true orgy and you are the bitch.”

As  the hunks made a cicle aound me with their purple cock heads shinny from all that pre-cum, I became horny as hell seeing their rock hard athletic bodies showing off their pumped quads and calves, full and hard muscled thighs, muscled laced arms and melon sized biceps, whorls of thick pubic hair surrounding heir proverbial horse like cocks, washer board flat abs, thick red sensuous lips, seductive eyes staring at my bubble ass and beads of sweat forming on their faces and chest lusting after my body. Fuck, they closed the circle around me until their leaking cocks were pressed hard up on my body. I felt a growing wetness as their leaking cocks dripped pre-cum on me that ran down my legs. The smell of the warm cum and body sweat had my cock bouncing on my abs. I’d never been hornier and more in need of man sex.

The action began in  seriousness when I was placed up facing the lockers with my hands placed on the lockers to steady me leaving room for a guy to knell down in front of my crotch as I was ordered to push my ass backward to receive those gifts of hot cocks. The action began when Jorge got down on his knees with his back to the lockers and he took my aching cock deep in his throat while I felt a big hard cock behind me began to run his tool up and down my ass crack (Brandon). He grabbed hold of my shoulders and rammed his wood deep in my ass. I used my hands to pound on the lockers as Jorge gave me an awesome blowjob and Brandon punished my ass with his hot stone hard cock. The room was filled with the smell of testosterone coming from all those horny jocks. It was only a short time when I felt Brandon’s cock spasm and he erupted with a thick load of his seed in me.

The guys had lined up behind me waiting for their turn. Next hot dark haired Logan got down and chewed down on my cock as blond heart throb Colby took his huge boner and split my ass wide open as he fucked the life out of me. As he felt the cum already inside me, he went over the edge and blasted his mother load in me and pulled out his cum covered cock. Logan got off my cock and came around and shoved his huge manhood deep in my ass as his cock became drenched in all that spunk in my ass. In the meantime, redheaded smooth body Eli took charge of my purple cock head and sucked my cock as if it was his mother’s breast to get milk. My red hot cum filled ass was too much for each of these cocks to last. In less than two minutes, I felt Logan empty his load in my pussy.

Eli the smallest guy on the team with a 6-inch dong, came around and easily thrust his nice cock inside me. At the same time, big tall Felix got down and servcied my aching cock with his large juicy lips and tongue. Eli was known as a fast shooter so he lost his load in about one minute. Next came Felix who man handled my pussy as he fucked the hell out of my ass with his 9-inch missile, while brown haired cutie Sonny sucked my cock with his throat muscles as if my cock was hooked to a vacuum cleaner. His sucking was so powerful that he pulled all my cum from my balls and I flooded his mouth and throat with my huge load of seed. At the same time, I felt a river of cum shoot into my ass by big Felix.

It was then Sonny’s turn to plunge his huge 9-incher in my ass. Man he knew how to use that dick to make me see stars while Max used his tongue and hands to satisfy my now soft cock. Sonny had great staying power, as he must have fucked me for at least 7 or 8 minutes before he unloaded that man creme in my ass. Max came around and and slapped my hot ass cheeks making them red before he plunged his 7-incher in me and through all that man cum that had dumped in my ass. The cutest guy on the team, Chris, with those blue eyes and dimples took my cock and swilred his tongue around my cock head in such an arousing way that my cock stiffened again. Max was loud and yelled. He called me a fucking bitch and screamed like some wild animal as he unloaded his juices deep in my pussy. 

I was then so eager to have my favorite looking jock fuck me. Chris eneterred my ass very gently; he put his arms and hands around my chest and humped his hot body into my back. He fucked me for the longest time of any of the guys as he whispered sexy words in my ears and he sucked and licked my ears and neck. He was so different from the other jocks and the neat techniques he used with his cock to explore my ass. When he got close, he surprised me when he pulled his rock hard cock out of my pussy, turned me around, had me get on my knees and he shot his thick ropey cum on my face and in my mouth. His cum was so warm and sweet. We kissed and shared his sweet nectar. I loved the way Chris dealt with me. He did not treat me like I was a slut. Jorge did not fuck me as we had done that trick many times before.

The studs took me to the showers, bent me over and rotated using their fingers to open my ass as loads and loads of all that cum poured out of my ass and ran down the drains. It was a huge pool of all those jocks cum.

We showered and they took me to a nice dinner and later we went to the nightclub and watched Johnny’s amazing strip show with five of his hot buddies.

THE END OF THIS SERIES

The training Master had said it was necessary for the new slave to be gagged and bound for the journey to the real Masters home. It had been quite long in the back of the van. The table and all the implements of pain were the real Master’s belongings. The slave had been informed that it would have to clean and cook and all the housework tasks as well as all sexual duties. The Master as the slave now realised was his only Master had told him that he was to be exclusively his to obey and satisfy. Master had told him that the training master had said the slave had the face that could be beautiful in a man or woman. Just needed a wig and clothes with some anatomical extensions in the chest.  

I wasn’t that keen at being feminised if that was what my Master wanted then so be it. I no longer wanted what I wanted, I knew now I should only want what pleases my Master. I was keen to be the sole implement that gave my Master his sexual and sadistic satisfaction. The pain had been a twist and his age was not what I had imagined but I had become adjusted to the fact and realised I was just a slave for someone else. I grew accustomed to the routine at my Master’s home and it was an endless round of household chores and sexual sessions which I enjoyed every time even the dungeon visits where pain was a major factor became just part of my life. My Master would only apply enough force to give pain but leave no real long term marks. I was quite content with it all and I was my Master’s slave to command. However there was the card game circle where my Master played cards with about nine other men and they would take turns going to play at each others homes. The training Master’s comment came home to my Master and he got it into his mind to train me up to wait on the card table when the card circle came to his home. A female friend came and taught me how to apply makeup properly then how to overdo it to get the right look. He got me a rather sluttish French maids outfit which I was to wear. The stockings were fishnet and attached to a garter belt the pants were just enough to cover my chastity cage age a band that separated my arse cheeks. The friend got some heady perfume which I was to put on heavily. The first time my Master saw me he was aghast and a small doubt crossed his face but then even he was turned on and we went downstairs for a heavy session on the table. All doubts were forgotten. Pity that was a mistake for both of us.

The night of the card game at Master’s house came and I got dressed up to wait table. I was kept back until all were in and seated then Master asked them what drinks they wanted. With that he shouted through to the kitchen.

“Oh waitress come and get the drinks”

I walked in and the group reaction was a gasp of appreciation. Comments like Lucky sod you have that at your command. They knew Master had a slave but they thought it would be a nothing worth looking at. The perfume pervaded the room and the testosterone and lust was almost visible as the night went on. I would go round filling up glasses and bending over to get glasses as the game went on. Some of them even the straight card players would stroke my legs and one went up the skirt as I bent over out of sight of my Master. I was forbidden to say anything. My Master was not a good card player and he was having a bad night and losing badly. Then one hand he lost thae last of his cash. That was when one of the players said.

”You can get all your money back if you play one hand for a night with this lovely slut.”

I could my Masters dilemma he had lost badly but wanted me for himself.

“If you play win or lose you get all your money back, win and you also get the pot of cash on the table right now, lose and you get your initial stake back and the rest of us get the sexual use of this slut here and now”.

My Master was aghast.

“What all of you tonight?”

“Yes a Gang bang here and now on this table agreed fellas?”

They egged each other on and they were alcohol fuelled and even the straight ones were feeling randy. I could see the bulges in their trousers. Some seemed larger than others.

“Yes, yes gang bang here and now!” they all replied.

“Alright here and now and only sex”. I could see the doubt when he said it but I saw the lust in the other’s eyes. Fear clutched at my stomach, fear and a little wonderment at what was going to happen tonight.

“High card wins, alright?”

“Yes alright” replied my Master.

They cut the pack my Master went first, he drew a Jack, he looked slightly relieved the odds were good he was going to win. The other player shook his head then cut the pack and looked at the card.

“Rather appropriate a Queen of Hearts” He laughed and they laughed.

The table was swept clear and they hoisted me onto the table and my shoes and pants were pulled roughly off. They all started to take off their trousers and exposed themselves to be more than ready.

“Wait condoms please!” my Master begged.

“We are all clean and condoms were not mentioned for the deal, were they lads?

“No, no condoms let the slut lap it all up!”

Now I was really afraid I was there but just as apiece of living meat to these guys, Some held my hands and arms, with that the first one was shoving his prick into my mouth and another was already pulling my arse cheeks apart and pushing hard to penetrate my arse. He was not the same size as my Master but he was unlubricated and it was painful until my entrance opened up and let him in. I was desperately controlling my breathing to breathe through this violent mouth fuck and overcome my fear which had my heart pound. My body shook under the ramming actions of the two card players and the mouth stopped and pulled out just far enough to squirt his cum into my mouth and said lap it up slut. The other squirted into arse and pulled out. I barely caught my breathe when another two filled my holes. It was brutal and extremely intoxicating. I really was a slut. I was actually deep down enjoying this. They all had a turn at one of the holes and my mouth and arse were dripping cum, I thought it was over when they said swap ends. They did and were all primed for another go. It seemed endless my body was shoved backwards and forwards as they rode me hard and fast. It was sore on my arse and throat was raw with it all. I had become a piece of meat and I was enjoying this misuse, my arse squelched and my mouth made squishy noises as they rode my holes. Time just disappeared and as I was a piece of meat to them they became one fucking mass of penis and cum.

Eventually it was over.

One leaned by my ear and said “ I am going to own you soon and then this is going to be just another day and then there are the tricks you have been trained to do, yes slut you are going to make me money and your poor fool of a master is going to have to pay me to have your tight little pretty arse in future”.

They all agreed they had had enough but I heard them say that was damn good how about next time maybe we could have ‘her’ when we come here.

“No” my Master shouted you have had your fun but never again. I saw he had his hand filled with the money and there was a look of doubt in his eyes. He didn’t touch me that night. Just said when they all had gone “Clean yourself out and have a good wash, tomorrow I am going to ride you after I punish you for enjoying tonight”.

“Now open your books to page 223.” Mr. Kane, a highly respected English teacher. Kane had been teaching for over 30 years, he was balding, overweight with brown eyes but a cock that would impress anyone. “Rick, would you start reading please?” Rick was the star of the swim team, a great swimmers build, light blue eyes, smooth body.  Kane once saw Rick naked, seeing his smooth ass and body, Kane had to have him, but wasn’t sure on how to get him into bed.

“That’s enough Rick.” at that moment the bell rings for the next class. “Ok folks, read pages 226-229 and answer the questions on the following page.” “Rick, could I see you for a moment?” “Yes Mr. Kane?” “You’ve been doing very well in all your classes.” “Thank you, is that what you wanted to tell me sir?” “No, I need your help, I’m redoing my house and could use some help.” “Sure, Mr. Kane, I’ll help you.” “When would you like me to come over?”

“This weekend, Saturday morning around 10.” “Ok, that works for me.” Kane gives Rick his address, Rick leaves, and Kane has an evil smile on his face.

Rick shows up, just before 10, Kane meets him at the door. “You’re early Rick, glad to see that.” “Come on in.”  They enter, “follow me.” “This is the room that I’m working on.” “Painting and putting down a new carpet.” Rick was wearing a tank top and loose fitting jeans, which showed most of his underwear. “If I knew there was painting involved, I would have worn a t-shirt and jeans!” Kane laughs, “I would loan you a t-shirt, but I don’t think it would fit you.” “After we’re finished, you can use my pool.” “You have a pool?”  “Yes, indoors and heated.” “Cool.”

After 5 hours and half hours of working, Kane and Rick take a break. “Rick, you want something to eat?” “Sure, can I use your pool, now?” “Go right ahead, it’s down the hall and to the left.” Rick was impressed with the size of the pool, then he realized that he had forgotten his bathing suit, “Damn” Kane comes in, “What’s wrong?” “I didn’t bring my suit.” “Why not swim in your underwear?” Rick is taken a back by his teacher’s suggestion. “What?” “Now Rick, it’s not like anyone is going to see you and I’m not going to tell anyone, if you wanted to, you could swim nude, and wouldn’t care, I’m not going to be joining you, I’m going to pick up dinner for us.” “Ok, I’ll go for a swim, do you have a towel?” “Yes, I do, I’ll get it, now go for a swim.” Kane leaves, as Rick strips naked, diving into the pool. Rick is impressed by how warm the pool is. Kane is watching Rick from a monitor from his bedroom, touching himself, waiting to fuck the 18 year old stud. Kane puts his plan into action, setting up Rick. First putting Vigara into his drink, getting him into the hot tub next to the pool, then into bed has a willing by hypnotizing him, which Kane knew how to do. 

“Rick, dinner is ready, after dinner, you want to use the hot tub?” “Sure, but I have nothing to wear.” “like I said, wear your underwear, I’m not going to make a move on you!” Rick laughs, “but then my underwear will be wet and I won’t be able to wear them.” “The go nude, your safe here.”

After dinner, the two are in the hot tub, Kane, in a bathing suit, Rick, nude, unsure if he’s confortable with being naked in front of his teacher. “You ok, Rick?” “I don’t know, this is weird, bring naked in front of my teacher.” Relax, have a beer.” Handing him the beer that has Vigara in it. Rick drinks some of it, when he suddenly feels his dick getting hard. At that moment, Kane puts left index finger and swings it in front of Rick, who follows it back and fourth. “Rick, you’re under my command, you will do has I say.” “Do you understand?” “Yes, Mr. Kane.” “Good, take off my bathing suit and jerk my dick.” Rick does what he’s told, “Yeah, keep going.” After 15 minutes Kane decides he wants Rick to suck him. “Let’s leave the hot tube and go into my bedroom. “Rick, get on your knees, suck me and jerk your cock.” Rick takes Kane’s fat cock, which he can’t see underneath his belly unless it’s hard, it hadn’t been this hard in a long time. “Ok Rick, get on the bed, on all fours, spread your legs.” Kane was impressed with Rick’s ass, he looked at his hole, before fingering him, Rick moaned as he felt him put not one finger, but three. Kane loved his tight hole. He took the lube out of his top drawer and put some on his dick and lubed up Rick’s hole, the head of his dick popped Rick’s no longer virgin ass, Rick screamed, but relaxes when Kane got into a routine, Kane then had Rick change position, throwing Rick’s legs over his hairy shoulders. Kane kisses Rick hard, while Rick moans, “jerk yourself, babe” kane orders. Rick does what he’s told. “I’m coming cries, Rick, shooting his load on his teacher. “Lick it off my face and deposit it in my mouth, he licks off his cum, kissing, Kane. Using his tongue and to give back some cum to Rick and have him swallow it. Kane starts feeling himself start to cum “oh fuck, I’m going to cum!” Kane shoots, what seems to be the longest load into Rick’s ass. “Oh god, Rick, your ass feels so incredible.” Kane pulls out “here lick the rest of my cum off and swallow it.” Rick does has he’s told.” Kane kisses Rick. “Now Rick, get dress and meet me in the living room.” “Yessir.”  Ten minutes later, Kane brings Rick out of the hypnosis, but Rick wouldn’t have any memories of the encounter. But Kane would use Rick a few more times under hypnosis. 

The Blowjob

I placed an ad on a gay web-site months back and started talking to a guy called Roger. We spoke for a few weeks until I finally got a day when I had the house to myself. Then I invited him over. His knock at the door was right on time. I opened it and he came in. I was pleased to see that he more or less fit his description, about 6-feet, average weight, well dressed in jeans and Dallas Cowboy’s t-shirt in fact with his dirty blonde hair, indigo blue eyes and infectious smile he was really fucking good looking. Not someone I’d expect to be hooking-up on the net.

Getting right to it, no introduction or anything, Roger asked, “What would you like to do?”

I nervously replied, “I’d like to suck your cock.”

With a knowing smile he made a sweeping gesture down with both hands indicating I was free to help myself. As I reached for the hem of his t-shirt Roger kicked off his Nikes. I pulled his Cowboy’s t-shirt up and over his head and let it fall to the floor. He had a well-built body, strong but not bulky with a manly trail of curly hair running from his navel down into the top of his jeans.

As if curtseying before a King, I went to my knees at Roger’s feet. Then I hesitated for a second or two before reaching up to unbuckle his belt and then unbutton and unzip his pants. Freed his jeans slid down his legs to just above his knees revealing his cock straining against his jockeys. Bending down he pulled his jeans the rest of the way down and off.

I gawked in awe as Roger reached down and slipped his thumbs in the waist band of his jockeys. A second or so later he was lowering them off his hips, freeing his already hardened cock. Mesmerized by it I slipped his jockeys on down his legs and off his ankles. Then I looked up to see him completely naked in front of me, his hard uncut and fat cock that stood out a least 7-inches and sat on a pair of walnut size balls dangled in my face.

As I continued to gawk, Roger asked, “Do you like my cock?”

And I stammered, “Yes.”

Laughing, he took my hand and wrapped it around his 7 inch cock. It was so hard yet soft as I slowly stroked him. I moaned, “Ooooh my god yesss,” softly enjoying the beautiful sight and feel.

Roger sat on the chair behind him and spread his legs.

My hand still wrapped around his 7 inch wonder and I stared at it. Loving the sight. Then suddenly I kissed it and that was it, I was in love with this hard cock. It wasn’t too big for my mouth but it fit perfectly. I took him in my mouth and he pressed my head further onto him. I loved feeling my nose pressed into his thick clump of pubic hair and his cock press against the back of my throat.

My thumb and forefinger wrapped around the base, I started bobbing my head slowly, moving my mouth up and down his thick hard shaft. He moaned, “Ohmigod yessssss. Suck it man, suck my cock,” as he gripped my arms, squeezing them in pleasure. Then his hand was on the back of my head and pulled me closer.

“Play with my balls,” he moaned out loud.

My mouth was still covering and my lips clamped around his cock, with my left hand I cupped his hairy balls. They were so soft in my hand, I started to knead them, rubbing them playfully.

In hindsight, I probably sensed his eruption before I knew it was happening. I remember now how his cock instantly felt even hotter in my mouth. When Roger moaned, “Oh shit, here it is. I’m cumming,” my mind had only nano-seconds before registered that this hard cock was getting even harder.

In his excitement, Roger grabbed the back of my head and almost violently shoved his cock down my throat. My nose was slammed into his kinky pubic hair and his balls flopped against my chin. He tensed up and held himself immobile. Finally, Roger erupted and it felt like a dam had busted. When it happened, I swear I almost didn’t feel the first shot because his cock was so deep in my mouth. It must’ve emptied right down my throat.

The second and succeeding shots come back to me in more detail. My mouth poised with his cock head just inside my lips, I could actually feel the cum boiling up in his balls as his next blast almost chocking me with what felt like a quart of cum pulsing into my mouth. I didn’t have time to consider the taste before he shot again. My throat opened and I swallowed back as much as I could.

Roger went totally silent, surprised at the amount of cum he poured into my mouth, as I continued sucking and swallowing his cum. As I was milking all the cum out of his cock, I gagged and coughed onto his cock. The cough made me deep throat him one last time. His cum in my mouth sprayed back over his cock. I apologized and then cleaned his cock with my tongue

I enjoyed sucking him and intend to see him again.

The end…

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

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Stephanie and I had spent a very nice and exhausting afternoon in my bed. Walt was taking us to supper later and Steph was looking through my clothes for something nice to wear. She is a little fuller than and was having difficulty finding anything that looked nice on her. She finally found a skirt and blouse that looked good on her.

“Don’t you have anything nice that’s not sexy?” she complained. “Almost everything you have screams ‘Fuck Me’! Don’t you get tired of having strange men making passes at you?”

I shrugged. My first outfit was intended to help me seduce my high school friend.  I also had a few Hello Kitty tops and panties I wore around Dave, my first lover. I had several tank tees and denim cutoffs. Walt liked seeing me in these! Jackie and Silve had helped me pick out then rest of my outfits.

As we were leaving, Stephanie asked Walt if he would mind running by her place. He waited in her living room as she dragged me into her bedroom. She rummaged through her closet and found a nice, knee length dress. She had outgrown it and, while it was little large on me, it still looked good.

Walt whistled when I entered the room and said, “That looks lovely on you!” I was a little embarrassed, but secretly pleased.

“Next week, I’d like Angie to spend the night. I’m taking her shopping for some new outfits. Get your VISA ready!” Stephanie exclaimed.

 “I’ve been trying to get her to buy anything she wants, but she spends very little on herself!” he exclaimed.

I grew up with little extra money so I’m very cautious. Miguel complained because I barely touched my allowance when I was his mistress. Not spending his money used to upset him. we often fought about that until i moved in with Walt. I don’t even spend all the interest on my trust fund. While Walt is well off and financially secure, I don’t want to be frivolous. Both my lovers told me they are supposed to spend money on their trophy girlfriends!

The following week, as I headed out, Walt handed me his Gold Card and told me to have fun and buy lots of clothes. I could also buy something for Stephanie as a ‘Thank You’ if I liked. Stephanie picked me up and drove to a very upscale lingerie store. She told me they were used to serving transsexuals and were very discreet.

“While slutty outfits are nice, men like Walt and Roger prefer classy,” she informed me.

The clerk, a very tall and lovely black woman, had me remove my bra and panties then took several measurements. I hadn’t been naked before a stranger in a very long time, but she was very professional. She had me model several sets before she found two or three styles that would be flattering. I tried on a set that was very comfortable, and I liked what I saw in the mirror.

The clerk asked Steph what she thought. Steph came up to me and fondled my breasts through the bra. She then pulled me close to kiss me, reaching behind to release the clasps. She ran her hands down my side and across my bottom.

“I think her boyfriend will love these,” she said.

The clerk, Monique, was helping me fit my new bra. Stephanie had stepped out for a few minutes. As I looked in the mirror, she leaned over and nuzzled my neck. She slid one bra strap off my shoulder and kissed there, too. I must have moaned encouragingly.

“You have a beautiful bottom. May I…….?” she asked before she slid my panties down and knelt behind me. She kissed my bottom and lightly caressed me. I sprang to attention. She turned me around, looked at my cock and sucked me gently. I came quickly!

“That was nice. Thank you”, she said and left the fitting room.

I ended up purchasing several styles and colors to wear with the new dresses I would be buying. I also bought a couple of sets I thought might look good on Stephanie. She was pleased with her gifts. After all, I’m her lover and I should spend on her, too!

We stopped for coffee and Stephanie asked what had happened. I told her and she whistled appreciatively. She told me Monique had done the same for her a couple of times. We fantasized what it would be like to have a threesome with her, but couldn’t figure out the best way to approach her.

Our next few stops were to find dresses, skirts and blouses. My current dresses include my very sexy and revealing gowns and short dresses. Mainly the ones I wore for Miguel’s pleasure. I had blouses and tight skirts I wore when working for Jackie and teaching college classes. I also had a few bright sundresses.  I like dark blue. Stephanie said I needed two or three black dresses and some with different colors, for different occasions.All were short sleeved. One fell below the knee, one above the knee, and a couple fell mid-thigh. None showed exposed cleavage. I would have to bend over for Walt to get a peek at my breasts. I felt beautiful and classy at the same time. I had Steph try on one similar to my favorite. We both liked how it looked and thought about going out together like this. I told her Walt was paying. We found other dresses in different colors and styles for every day wear. We found a few blouses I liked.

After a late lunch, we bought shoes. I bought two pairs of tall spiked heel boots, regular high heels, some flats and some sandals. I insisted on a few pairs of colored sneakers.

Next came dressy slacks and nice designer jeans, then some nice sweaters. I was beginning to feel guilty. I had spent at least three months’ salary from my job at Jackie’s! If Walt was concerned, I would repay him from my funds. I called and asked Mrs. Daly, his secretary, for advice. I gave her the total and she laughed. I wasn’t even close to what he would allow! Walt’s ex-wife spent 2-3 times that amount every month.

“Go buy some really nice jewelry.” Wren advised. “He wants to buy you some, but is really clueless to what you like. He wants to take you to company and client functions and show you off. Walt is so proud of you! And I’m so pleased he found you!”

I bought a simple, yet elegant, necklace, a bracelet, and earrings. I bought a nice necklace for Stephanie.

We went to a little café and ordered some beers. Stephanie was pleased with my choices, then asked me about sleepwear.

“I wear Walt’s old tee shirts, when I don’t sleep naked.”

“Don’t you have any nice and sexy gowns?” When I shrugged no, she decided to return to the lingerie shop. I bought several long elegant gowns, some teddies, and a few short gowns, all in black, or dark blue. I intended to wear them long enough for Walt to remove them!

Stephanie asked for Monique, but she’d already left. The other clerk said she’d left a note if we came back. It had her phone number. We called and made arrangements for dinner.

Over dinner, we learned that Monique was a dominant transsexual. She lived with another dominant tranny and shared a submissive live in boy toy. She definitely seemed interested in us. We invited her to my old apartment, but she preferred her place instead. Monique reminded us she was a top and if she joined us, she would fuck both us. We would also do what she asked. She then laughed and said she only did the rough stuff with her “toy”.

Monique greeted us at the door and invited us in. Her partner, Gabrielle, was seated at their bar with her dress pulled up to her waist and her ass hanging over the back. Kneeling behind her was Craig, their boy toy. His wrists were manacled behind him and he was eating her ass with great enthusiasm! Gabrielle came over and hugged us both, and Craig said hello. We sat around making small talk. Craig by the stool, still manacled. Gabrielle was a smaller, full-figured, older tranny, near Jackie’s age. She knew Jackie professionally. Gabrielle was a professional dominatrix. She was home this evening because her appointment rescheduled. She also had a nice fat cock, maybe seven inches long.

“Craig didn’t clean the kitchen very well. I need to have a few ‘words’ with him,” Gabrielle grinned wickedly. Craig’s smile covered his face.

Monique took us on a tour of their loft while Gabrielle attended to Craig. We could hear loud swats and Craig saying “Thank you, Mistress. Harder please, Mistress.”

Steph and I wondered what we had let ourselves in for. Monique laughed and said, “We only play rough with the boys, not little girls like you.” Little girls like us???

Monique showed us the master bedroom. There was a small bed similar to a bed for a very large dog at the foot of their huge bed. Monique told us Craig slept there, ready to service either one should they require. The second room was set up like a massage parlor with two tables.

We returned to the main room. Craig presented his ass to Monique, who promptly said he wasn’t red enough yet. He smiled brightly as he looked at Gabrielle and mouthed, “I told you so!” Hmm! I wonder exactly who is servicing who? Monique had us undress. The room was suddenly full of cock: two dominate trannies, two transgendered women, and a really strange boy toy! Monique positioned me and Steph doggy style. Craig proceeded to eat both our asses, alternating between them while the tops stroked themselves and watched. While this felt very good, Steph and I were a little uncomfortable.

Monique had me turn around. She had the choice of Stephanie’s ass or my mouth. Gabrielle was on the other side. Monique pushed her cock in my face, wanting me to suck. I could feel Gabrielle pushing into my ass. While both cocks were thick, they didn’t compare with Walt’s. I wouldn’t have any problem, but Steph might. Roger has a narrow cock. If she didn’t want to do it, I would handle both. I had a lot of experience from when I worked for Jackie.

Suddenly, Stephanie got up and backed away, a terrified look on her face!

“Angie, I want to go home, now. Please! Take me home?” she begged.

I didn’t like the looks I saw on Monique and Gabrielle. I stood up and thanked them, but politely said we were leaving Monique just waved us off and pulled Craig down to where I had just been! She forced her fat cock down his throat and started face fucking him!Gabrielle rammed her cock into his ass and was fucking him hard.

“Goodnight, little girls,” theyc alled mockingly after us. We could hear their laughter after we shut the door.

We hurriedly dressed in the hall and ran to the car. Stephanie was sobbing uncontrollably and handed me he rkeys. She cried all the way home and didn’t stop until we got to her place. The terror had passed, but I saw great sorrow in her eyes. I asked her what was wrong. She just had me sit on the couch and then sat on my lap like I did on Walt’s.I held her close as she continued crying. She cried for nearly an hour. I was really worried and offered to call Roger. She quickly shook her head no. After a moment, she told me her story.

“When I was young, my father and brothers dressed my like a woman and repeatedly raped me. I ran away from home and worked as a prostitute before I met Roger. I used to let men, women, and other trannies use me like they were using Craig! Seeing them reminded me too much of my past!”

She got up and led me to her room.

“Please, just hold me tonight?” she asked. I lay by her as she cried herself to sleep. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” she said.

The next morning, the old, ready-to-face-anything Stephanie was back.

“Ready to go shopping?” she smiled and headed to the door.

—-to be continued—-

 

 

I ran out of luck my trucker lift had fucked me and had no further use of me, so he dumped me in a small coastal town late at night. I’m Joe 22 years old, gay, 5’10″ 150lbs swimmers build. I’m making my way home along the coast getting lifts and a bed when I can by giving guys sexual favors if I needed too.

I was thinking where the fuck am I? It was a town on the coast. I could hear the waves breaking on the beach. There was a fairly well lit building up ahead. As I made my way I could see it was a late night diner. Great maybe I could get another lift. I went in and got a coffee and sat at a table on my own waiting for someone to show interest in me. It was not long before a guy who looked to be in his forties about 6’, and I guess weighing 200lbs. Salt and pepper hair, with a few days of stubble on his chin, came over and sat at my table. We got talking he asked me where I came from and where I was going. “I’m parked up for the night, I’m heading that way in the morning I can give you a lift part of the way”. He said as he stood up. My name is Manuel he said as he stood there stroking his hand over his bulge smiling at me. It was obvious what he expected in return for a lift. It was dark I had no where to sleep I jumped at the offer.

“Ok boy follow me”, he said as he made his way out the diner. I followed just a few steps behind him; now and then he would glance back to see if I was still following him. He was leading me down to the beach. I could see the moon shining over the sea as the waves crashed down on the beach. Fuck! Where are we going? His truck can’t be down here, I was thinking. We walked along the beach until we came to an area where there were some trees and shrubs. He suddenly stopped and turned and approached me. He was unzipping his zipper as he came up to me. He stroked the side of my face as he told me to, “drop your pants boy”.

I hesitated and looked around. Have I been had; was he lying when he offered a lift. Was it just so he could fuck me? “If you wanna lift, drop those fucking pants”, he said. I could see the whites of his eyes as he stared at me and grabbed me around the neck and squeezed tight. He’s too big and powerful for me to resist. I quickly dropped my pants; they fell to my ankles He spun me around so I had my back to him then he forced me to bend over. I felt his hand roughly stroke down the crack of my ass, his fingers pausing over my anus. I felt his cock press hard against my hole. He had both his hands on my shoulders making it impossible for me to pull away. Thrusting 3 or 4 times with the full force of his hips I felt the head of his thick long hard cock punching my anus until my hole gave way and his cock penetrated deep into my gut, making me scream out.

It was a rough and frenzied fuck that lasted just minutes before he squirted his load deep in my gut. He pulled out quickly. I turned to look back as I reached down to pull my pants up. Thinking he had finished with me. I felt a hand on the back of my neck forcing me to stay bent over. I felt the head of a cock punching my hole until it penetrated me, making me scream out and struggle. It took just minutes for him to fuck and injected me with more cum juice. I turned my head from side to side; I could see guys standing around me stroking their hard cocks waiting their turn to fuck me. One after another guys thrust their cocks into me injecting me with more and more cum juice. Juice was spilling out my hole and trickling down the inside of my legs. My lower back and ass cheeks were covered in sticky sperm juice.

Ecstatic sensations shot through my body as their cocks massaged and stimulated my prostate. My legs weakened as cum juice squirted out my pee slit. I was so excited that I’d ejaculated without touching my hard cock. I fell down on my knees. They continued to mount me as I arched my back and raised my ass. Some fucked me with one hand on my shoulder and the other on my hip, some both hands on my shoulders or both hands on my hips. The frenzied fucking continued. The guys were taking just minutes to fuck me then standing aside. They were like a pack of wolfs. I don’t know how many fucked me, or how long it went on for. The fucking came to a sudden end the guys disappeared suddenly. Manuel shoved an ass plug in my ass and told me to get up. My legs felt weak as I quickly pulled my pants up. He pushed me in the direction he wanted me to go. Now and then he would grab at my T-shirt and force me to walk more quickly. I need to eat he said as he stroked his hand over my ass then my belly.

Eventually we reached his truck He opened the door and pushed me up and into his cab. He told me to get in the sleeping section behind the seats. “Strip and lay down on ya belly”. Cum juice had trickled down the inside of my legs it was all over my ass cheeks and back, where the guys were still squirting as they pulled out my hole. I lay belly down on the mattress he placed a pillow under me so my ass stuck up at an angle.

Spread those legs boy he said as he stripped and knelt behind me. I felt his hand come down heavy on my butt as he slapped me hard several times. Making my ass cheeks sting. He was letting me know he had control over me and could do what ever he liked with me.

He sounded pleased as he said,” you did good boy those guys sure did enjoy fucking that cute ass of yours”. He licked the cum-juices that had squirted over my ass and trickled down the inside of my legs. Manuel slowly pulled the ass plug out my hole, licking the cum juices that dripped off it. I felt his hands roughly stretching my cheeks apart. “WOW! Look at that cream filled hole”, he said. He held my hard cock tight with his hand to stop me moving forward, while he feasted on the cum juices in my gut. I felt the tip of his tongue licking the rim of my anus sending shivers of excitement through my body. No one had licked round my hole before. I felt the stubble of his chin prick my ass cheeks and anus as he shoved his mouth hard into my ass crack so he could penetrate his tongue deeper into my gut. He had an exceptionally long coarse tongue.

My heart was beating rapidly in my chest as I breathed in and out deeply. I stuck my ass up and pushed hard back on his mouth. It was an erotic sensation feeling his tongue licking all sides deep in my gut. He squeezed and stretched my ass cheeks, digging his fingernails deep into my skin. I heard sighing and slurping noises as he sucked the cum-juices out my hole. He leaned forward and looked me in the face “fuck, your ass sure does taste sweet boy”, he said as he ran his tongue along his lips. Fuck this is ecstasy I thought as he continued to try to get his tongue deeper into my gut sucking hard and long to get his full of cum-juices. This was my first time being used as a cum-dump, so a cum eating trucker could eat cum out my ass.

He licked and sucked my hole till he could not get anymore cum. “I need to milk you boy, I need more cum”. He flipped me over onto my back and took the whole of my cock into his mouth. I could feel his lips and teeth moving up and down the shaft of my cock. He was gently squeezing my balls as he face fucked himself on my hard cock. It was not long before I shot one then two powerful jets of fresh cum juice into his mouth. He looked up at me with wide open eyes as my cock shot more cum into his mouth, more than what he could swallow. Cum was spilling out his mouth and trickling down the shaft of my cock as he struggled to swallow it all. My whole body was shuddering as I shot more and more cum into his mouth. He squeezed my cock hard trying to control the flow until I had no more cum left to shoot. He looked pleased as he licked the spillage off my cock shaft and balls. Look boy he said as he opened his mouth full of my cum juices.

“Boy I still feel horny”, he said as he flipped me onto my belly and straddled me. Shoving his thick hard cock all the way deep into me. Fucking me deep and long. Pulling all the way out several times making me yelp. He was sweating and grunting. “Aaahhhhhhh”. I was enjoying every moment twisting and wriggling with snakelike motions under him as he pounded my ass. He gave out a loud “aaahhhhhhhhhhh!” As he squirted his sperm into me. He lay atop of me. His body weight increased and he was breathing deeply, he had fallen off to sleep. I soon fell of to sleep too only to be awakened in the morning by his cock fucking me and squirting its load into me before we set off.

5 hours later we pulled into a truck stop where he had arranged my next lift. A dark skinned Hispanic guy looking supremely fit and athletic leapt up from a table and beckoned us over and told us to sit. He was looking me up and down with a lustful look on his face as he stroked his hand over my legs under the table. Making me tremble with excitement. “He the one that had all those guys gang bang him?” he asked. “Yeah he can take as many cocks as you can get for him, he’s a good cum dump. I licked and sucked him dry, you need to get him refilled before you can”, said Manuel smiling at me and stroking his hand over my shoulder and down my back. “I got just the place to take him later”, said Jose my new cum eating trucker. That’s another story.

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

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It was 3 AM. Brian Jempreth, 22 (almost 23), stood at the vending machine outside the Simpson building; he was indecisive and hungry, but just stared at the machine as though it would tell him what to buy. He was standing with one leg bent, resting slightly on pointed toes as his right held up the rest of his body. It gave him a somewhat feminine posture, and the femininity was not at odds with the rest of him.

He wasn’t a twink, per se – there was nothing too girly, just nothing especially manly either – and it was easy to see he was young, gay, and more than a little slutty: he was thin (but not anorexic), tall (but not too tall), and wearing pretty much what one might expect someone like him to wear on a chilly November evening (or morning?), with a blue gingham button down covered by a lime green polka dotted sweater and a tan scarf keeping his neck warm. The look was completed with tight cherry red pants outlining a small but toned ass, a slightly worn pair of boat shoes, a solid blue tie, and tortoise shell glasses of the type spotted on hipster wannabees and Taylor Swift in the “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” music video.

His outfit was well-fitting, loud, and just a bit abrasive while the bright colors still made it seem cheerful and fun. He was a basic bitch, sure, but it was partly ironic – he reveled in it, subverted it, felt himself smart but trendy.

It was late, though, and he was worn down. The election was two days from tomorrow, and the stress that he had kept hidden for so long was starting to bubble up to the surface: the last polls showed his candidate down by two points which, while not insurmountable, was disheartening to say the least. He still might not have a job in three days, he hadn’t slept well in a month and a half (and hadn’t slept at all in 36-ish hours), and hadn’t eaten anything since his bowl of Rice Chex yesterday at lunch, so his head was throbbing.

“You know, I’ve always been partial to pretzels when I need a quick pick-me-up,” said a voice from the darkness. Brian jumped and looked around; he was not standing in a well-lit area. The voice was soon matched to its body, though, as a tall, lanky man turned around in his chair. He’d been working on his laptop at a nearby table but had been distracted by Brian’s indecision. His voice was mellow and sort-of deep, and he spoke with a tone that suggested everything he said was either sarcastic, tongue-in-cheek, or a little jab. When he saw that he had startled Brian he laughed a little before getting out of his seat.

“Sorry,” he said, “it’s just you’ve been there about five minutes by now.” Five minutes? Brian realized how long it had been since he had slept. Brian returned a little nervous giggle, more perfunctory than anything else.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s been a long day.” And understatement, to say the least. He’d gotten this job just out of college, when he’d realized that a B.A. in poli sci from the University of Idaho wasn’t going to propel him to the upper echelons of D.C. policy think tanks. He’d hoofed it from Moscow, Idaho, to the big city: Billings, Montana, where the election season was just heating up.

Margaret Heche, the Democratic candidate and his boss, had entered the race as the popular mayor of Bozeman, but lost her 15 point lead over the next few months as she battled corruption charges and tried to recover from various gaffes. If the political cycle had been unkind to her, though, Brian had excelled. He’d gone from intern to full-time paid staffer to policy advisor, thriving on the turnover. However, ninety hour workweeks eventually took their toll; he was coming apart at the seams, and it showed, (though for Brian that mean his hair wasn’t as perfectly coiffed as usual and his ties knots didn’t have dimples).

Maybe this was why, only a few comments about pretzels later, Brian was gabbing away about his day, his job, his life, to the stranger at his table as both snacked absentmindedly. Or maybe it was the way that this man (had he said his name yet? Brian couldn’t remember if they’d even done introductions) looked: he must have been 6’5’’ or 6’6’’, around forty, maybe, fairly muscled in a black button-down, a sweatshirt, and khakis; his strong jawline covered in a moderate layer of scruff, while his eyes were a deep blue-grey. Or maybe it was the breezy confidence he had about him?

Whatever it was, Brian just realized he had said way too much, far too quickly. “Oh God,”  he sighed, exasperated with himself, “please tell me you aren’t some political blogger mentally writing a long post about all the shit a crazed, sleep deprived unnamed source spouted.”

Another confident chuckle from his conversational compadre. “Ha, no.” Cue an audible exhale of relief from Brian before he continued, “I’m actually an associate history professor at UM. I’m just in town for a conference and got a little insomnia before my presentation tomorrow.”

Brian, ever the history nerd, was more than a little intrigued. Over the next half hour they discussed his job, his research into the role of women in the early American West, and frontier history and how it shaped the state’s institutions. It was just as geeky as it sounds, but the conversation was vibrant, fun, and intense, until it was interrupted by Brian’s phone.

Sara, his coworker: “where the fuck are you???” Quickly, another text: “If you don’t answer in five minutes I’m assuming you’ve been kidnapped.” Sara, ever the worrier, once more: “I’m calling the cops in like 10 seconds.” Brian laughed a bit before seeing that it was 3:47, and he swore softly.

“This has been great and all, but I’ve got to go,” he said, getting out of his chair. His back hurt a little, the metal frame wasn’t comfortable. As he stretched, the stranger responded.

“Understandable, but I don’t see why we can’t pick up the conversation again after the election. Mind giving me your number?”

Brian was nonplussed. He had missed the flirting, had thought nothing of the fact that a handsome man just indulged 45 minutes of conversation in the early morning hours, had not even considered that his compatriot could be gay as well. He was so taken aback that he still wondered if this was just a fast friendship. There was only one way to find out, though. He reeled off his digits. “Your turn now,” he said, trying to be subtly flirty but failing, “what’s your name?”

“Chris.”

“Well Chris, nice to meet you! I’m Brian,” he said, a soft smile at his mouth as he realized he’d talked almost an hour without exchanging names.

“Ha ha,” Chris said, the confident laugh again. “You’ve already told me your name. Maybe it’s time for you to get some sleep.”

Brian, again confused, stared downward and paused a little in disbelief that he was so scatterbrained, before turning around and walking back into the office building.

*************************************************************************************************************

“I mean, it was like my own romantic comedy, meet-cute and everything. I just can’t figure out why he hasn’t texted me yet.”

Brian and Sara were hurtling across the vast Montana landscape in a moving van. The rest of the election had been a blur. Heche won, narrowly, and Brian was content in the knowledge that he had long-term employment, even if it was in Helena. He and Sara were making the move together; they’d become pretty good friends over the race and given how little stuff they had between them, it just made sense to share the cost of the U-Haul.

Despite the busyness of the end of the election and the move that followed it, Brian couldn’t stop thinking of Chris, and was in the midst of talking about him for what must have been the fourth time.

“A romantic comedy?” Sara was incredulous. “You talked about the history of Montana. That’s a movie worse than You’ve Got Mail.”

“Whatever, bitch.”

“Maybe you just need to resign yourself to the fact that it was a one-off, and you’ll probably never see him again.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, you think I don’t know that? It’s just frustrating. Plus, what else am I going to think about before work starts?”

“You do realize we have an entire season of Survivor to catch up on, right?”

As usual, Sara was right. Brian smirked as he stared at the mountains in the distance. There were no houses as far as the eye could see, only fence on both sides. Most of the time he liked living in rural areas, places where he could get snowed in and read quietly with a mug of hot chocolate. Places where you could feel the sky and the wind, and in the dry season hear the bittersweet country tunes, the Tanya Tucker and Loretta Lynn and Neko Case, where his memories and fears intertwined.

But sometimes he just wanted out, to the big cities with jobs and museums and arts and comedy. Where it wouldn’t be so unusual for a gay man to be part normal, part stereotype and not be thought weak or stupid; where there was hope and promise.

All the same, the truck trundled on.

*************************************************************************************************************

It had been a month and a half since he’d met Chris. Sara had just gone home to visit family for Christmas; Brian had no such plans. He hadn’t spoken to his parents in years and he had no intention of breaking the streak, and planned instead on reading, watching 80s TV reruns, and getting ready for his new government position.

By now he’d settled into his house, an older mobile home on about three acres. This being mid-December, there were already eight to twelve inches of snow blanketing the land. It was evening, and Brian was starting a planned 48 Hours Mystery binge (the exact type of thing one ought to not do on a winter night in a house in rural Montana) when his phone screen lit up unexpectedly. Sara had already called earlier that day, he thought she was supposed to be en route to her grandmother’s in Sarasota.

“Hey, it’s Chris. Belated congrats on the win!”

Brian was just a skosh annoyed. Six weeks? For that text? All the same, he was excited to finally have at least a few words with Chris. A few words turned into a few hundred, as Brian lost the thread of the 48 Hours (though he also knew that the husband did it. The husband was always the killer in these things).

Soon tentative plans were being made. Two days later found Brian inching over his icy gravel driveway, ready to finally get that coffee again. It was almost two hours to Missoula, where the University of Montana was and, by extension, where Chris was, but they’d found a diner about halfway between there and Helena. Sure, an hour drive for a meal was maybe a bit much, but Brian might was well, he thought. It’s not as though he’d been having much luck in Helena with the men.

Chris, as Brian learned over an omelette, strawberries, and coffee that was far too strong for Brian’s liking, had been going through a busy professional period as well: he’d recently been made a tenured professor. They talked family briefly, as Chris, too, wasn’t going home for the holidays, and they talked about pretty much everything else. The conversation here was every bit as good as that first night.

Two hours later, Chris walked Brian back to his car. A hug and a chaste peck later, and Brian was on the road back to Helena. Why hadn’t they been more physical? Six months ago in college, Brian practically walked around with his legs splayed apart, why wait now? But something felt right about it, as though he were building something more than a quick hookup.

The texting was near non-stop; they met four more times in the next two weeks. Finally, Brian concocted an excuse to be in Missoula for the weekend; he said he was going on a hike nearby. It wasn’t a lie, because Brian liked to hike. There was just no real reason why it had to be done in a ton of snow, right now. But at least it gave him an excuse to see Chris on his terms, something like that. He didn’t know what might happen, but he was prepared for every possibility.

He and Chris had previously talked about how Brian wanted to take things a bit slower, to re-enter dating a little at a time. Maybe, though, tonight was the night to start getting a little handsy. They were at a bar, they had just spent the afternoon walking through the town, in and out of the little shops talking all the way. They nestled into a booth together and ordered, and Brian reached his hand to pat Chris’s knee. It lingered, feeling the hard bone through the strong denim.

Chris got the signal. “Where are you staying tonight, again?” he asked, knowing full well that they’d been through this already.

“Ummmm… Econolodge room 147,” Brian said, as he feigned looking at his phone for the information. They kept at their game of charades, Brian’s hand still planted on Chris’s knee, as Chris stretched his arms up and smoothly brought his left hand, past Brian’s shoulder, down his back, until it was placed firmly on his ass. Chris grabbed a handful and smiled.

Brian giggled as the waitress came by to give them their food. She gave them a look of faint disapproval, which sent Brian into another fit of giggles. By the time they paid their ticket it like they were checking each other for ticks hands everywhere. They got to the parking lot where not even the frigid air could keep curb their moods, holding hands until they got to Chris’ car, a beat-up ‘97 Corolla.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Chris said, “professor’s salary and all.”

“As long as it has working heating I’m good,” Brian replied.

No sooner was Brian in the passenger’s seat and Chris in the driver’s seat than they started kissing, passionately and with gusto. Chris’s stubbly mouth brushed up abrasively against Brian’s smooth chin, Chris sucked on Brian’s neck softly as Brian let out a slight moan. Brian’s hand squeezed Chris’s crotch, felt through the pants just as Chris’s hand massaged Brian’s sculpted little butt.

“Let’s get you home,” Chris said, a little commandingly.

“The sooner the better,” Brian panted.

They were off, but Brian couldn’t help himself. As Chris drove, Brian leaned over, placing his mouth on the outside of Chris’s jeans. He felt the fabric underneath rustle as Chris hardened.

“Oh, fuck,” Chris moaned. Brian went to work on buttons, opening them a bit clumsily until he revealed Chris’s underwear. Again, he felt Chris’s cock through his shorts with his mouth as it continued growing. It had to be seven and a half or eight inches long, and very wide. Brian had never been great with the bigger dicks; slut though he was, he just seemed to do better with a more manageable size.

Nonetheless, he dug his hand into Chris’s shorts, feeling the cut head, hearing more of Chris’s moans as he worked the shorts down his muscular thighs until the cock sprung free. He started running his tongue up and down the shaft, taking the head in his mouth at regular intervals, tugging on his balls, until Chris couldn’t take it, and pulled over.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he said, louder than before, as Brian swallowed more and more of the cock into his mouth, determined to take it all. He moved his head up and down in a slightly circular fashion, at first slowly and then faster, as his hands continued feeling Chris’s balls, pulling them gently, stopping every once and a while to lick them, suck on them.

Chris placed his right hand on Brian’s head, softly pushing it further onto his dick, until he’d soon taken almost all of it. Finally, just as Brian was able to take it all, was moving his head quickly up and down the shaft, Chris couldn’t take it anymore. “Fuck!” he shouted, pushing Brian’s head down until he was gagging, his cock throbbed until he finally shot his load, straight to the back of Brian’s mouth.

After Chris had been completely drained and Brian greedily licked the rest of the cum anywhere he could find it, Brian looked up into Chris’s blue grey eyes, filled with lust and power. Chris started the car again, turned to Brian, and said, “that’s a good start for tonight, I suppose,” as Brian whimpered softly in delight. For the rest of the trip Chris had his right hand on Brian’s ass, feeling it up.

As horny as they were, though, when Brian got to Chris’s house, he momentarily lost all interest in sex. It was a beautiful two story Queen Anne home, ornate and colorful with a wrap-around porch and small parapet. “How do you afford this on a professor’s salary?” Brian asked in disbelief.

“I bought it in pretty bad condition and restore it myself on nights and weekends and in the summer. Most of the period details I’ve gotten from garage sales.”

Brian couldn’t help but be stunned by the gorgeous house as they walked inside, until the light fell upon Chris again, and he forgot the house.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Chris said as they came through the front door, “but I like to take things a little rough.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t handle,” said Brian, as he stared at the way Chris filled out his flannel shirt with his broad chest, hairs peeking out from over the top button. He stared, too, at the sharp cheekbones, the strong jawline; stared at his massive thighs and, finally, Chris’s reappearing bulge.

Chris noticed him staring, before growling, “you want it? Come on and get it.”

Brian did as he was told, got on his knees before Chris’s manhood and started stripping off his jeans, his underwear until Brian saw his very hair naked thighs, until again there was a huge eight inch cock in front of him. Brian reached out for it, grabbed hold of it, and brought it to his mouth before Chris commanded gruffly, “hands off.”

Chris then took his hands and quickly placed them behind Brian’s head; Brian had little time to prepare for what came next as Chris pushed forward with his hips and back with his hands, impaling Brian’s head with his massive dick until Brian gagged. He relaxed his hold, pulling his penis out just long enough for Brian to sputter and take a quick breath, before thrusting it back in harder than before.

“TAKE IT, BITCH” he yelled as he continued to face fuck Brian. “TAKE IT, FUCKING FAGGOT.” Brian could do little more than attempt to breathe through his nose. After several minutes Chris stopped as Brian caught his breath. “Take your clothes off, faggot,” Chris spat, and as Brian hastily unbuttoned his shirt and pants, Chris took off his shirt, revealing a powerful, strong chest, big arms, and a flat stomach with a trace of abs, all covered in a thick layer of fur, a contrast to Brian’s skinny near-hairlessness.

Chris spoke again: “get on the couch, slut; on all fours, ass in the air.” Brian did as he was told. Chris came up behind him, put his hands on Brian’s butt and spread it, stuck his nose in between Brian’s ass cheeks, and firmly inhaled. He started licking Brian’s hole, then aggressively sticking his tongue in it. Brian moaned uncontrollably; his cock was immediately hard, but he still felt slight pain from Chris’s stubble.

“Open your mouth,” Chris said during a break in the rimjob. He shoved three fingers in Brian’s mouth, swirled them around roughly, and took them out again. He began inserting two of the fingers in Brian’s ass; before he’d had a chance to fully adjust Chris thrust a third in, making Brian cry out briefly in pain.

The fingerfucking didn’t last long. Chris pulled them from Brian’s ass and spit, a giant gob of saliva, into the hole. “This is going to hurt,” he said, “but you’re going to take it like the little faggot you are.” He stood up on his knees on the couch, his giant cock waiting to burst through Brian’s hole, then thrust.

Brian’s pain was unbelievable. His eyes watered, he cried out in shock and hurt, but Chris put his hand over Brian’s mouth so he couldn’t make too much noise, before shouting “WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT TAKING IT? FAGGOTS LIKE YOU WERE BORN FOR THIS! TAKE IT AND LOVE IT”

With that, Chris thrust in and out, in and out – a spastic, fast rhythm that caused more tears to fall down Brian’s face. Brian could feel Chris’s balls slapping his ass, could feel his massive dick hitting his prostate, over and over again, and the pain gave way to pleasure like he had never felt before. The pain was still there, and it made the waves of pleasure that much more powerful. Before Brian knew it he had come.

Chris thrust back and forth harder. “DID I SAY YOU COULD CUM, FAGGOT? HOW DARE YOU” he yelled, and after the orgasm Brian felt the pain more acutely than before. One hand still covering Brian’s mouth, Chris took his other hand and smacked violently Brian’s ass, causing another whimper of pain. “YOU TAKE WHAT I GIVE YOU, BITCH”

Chris was speeding up, faster and faster, deeper and deeper, until rope after rope of semen flowed into Brian’s ass. Chris took his hand off Brian’s head, took his dick out, and commanded Brian to lick the cum off his penis. “Yes, Sir,” Brian responded, before moving his tongue up and down Chris’s shaft, over his balls, until he had eaten all the cum he could see.

“That’s a good boy,” growled Chris appreciatively. “You’re starting to get the hang of it.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

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Hey! Thanks for reading the first chapter of my first story; I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it! Let me know what you thought, what could be improved, if you do want me to actually continue the story, etc. etc. in the comments.

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

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“So what are you thinking of right now, Jake?” I asked him, watching his hand whacking away at his big dick just like mine was sliding up and down my own similarly large hard-on. “Maybe a girl fingerin’ out her pussy and gettin’ it all hot and wet, ready for you to eat it…?”

My cousin grinned at me, checking out my chopper getting jerked, as the fattened plum-head of his massive cock swelled more shiny and took on a darker shade of purple. “Sounds pretty good, Shane, but what else you got?”

“Okay… how about some fit dude bendin’ over and spreadin’ his arse-cheeks open… so you can see his juicy little pucker, lookin’ moist and hairy?”

The huge girth of Jake’s cock chubbed up still further and became as hard as steel in his frantically pumping hand. The veins webbed across its surface rose upwards in bulbous knots and a sudden gush of precum oozed out from the gaping slit and spread out in an oily sheen across the surface.

“Oh yeah!” he chortled. “That sounds totally fucking hot!”

He flogged himself even faster and I wondered how long he was going to last. His heaving ball-sack strained with the weight of his massive over-filled knackers. I’d always thought that I had a big pair of cods – I used to get embarrassed at school about the way they stood out in two egg-sized mounds on either side of my trouser zipper – but Jake’s were a step up even from that!

“I’d kneel down behind him,” he grinned, “and shove my face right in there. Have a good lick of his tight little tush!”

“You so wouldn’t!” I laughed, surprised how horny I felt to hear him talk like that.

“I fucking would!” he beamed at me, and I knew he really would.

“So let me get this straight,” I smirked back. “You’d stick your tongue up some guy’s festy brown hole over a girl’s hot pussy?”

“Only if I got to fuck him!” he replied, staring at my thick rod as my fist kept slamming up and down it.

“No shit, mate?” I asked. I was getting close myself. “You’d really wanna butt-fuck another dude?”

Jake chortled and nodded but I still couldn’t believe it.

“Strewth, like actually do him up his clacker?” I queried, pounding at my dick. “For real, with your dick chockers up his arse?”

“Of course I would,” Jake laughed. “I’ve done it loads of times!”

“What… you mean, with other guys?”

“With guys who are up for it, yeah, why not?! It’s just as good as any other sex!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing – but, God, it was cranking my bone! My cousin rooting other lads’ arses while he had a girlfriend he was at it with too!

“And you actually get them to bend over… the two of you goin’ at it… one behind the other like a couple of gays?”

Jake laughed again. “There’s nothing gay about it! You should try it, Shane! It’s the best, man!”

“Better than fuckin’ a girl?”

His hand was now pumping his massive prick so fast that the bed was shaking. The headboard right behind where I was squatting was hammering against the wall so loud that his dad in the next room would probably think his son and his nephew were actually doing the thing they were just talking about.

“I dunno about that,” he chuckled. “But it’s pretty fucking tops!”

“What’s so good about it?” I panted, feeling my nuts starting to tingle as the endless thumping of my fist up and down my big shaft right above them made them jiggle about between my legs. “What’s so great about shagging another guy’s arse?”

“You have no idea ’til you’ve done it!” Jake gasped. “It’s so intense when it’s two dudes… the two of you so horny… so sweaty and so up for it… both with rock hard cocks and both desperate to nut off!”

“And you shag them like that? On your bed at uni?”

“Or they shag me!” he grinned. “Or we take it in turns!”

“Fuck!” I called out, my hand a blur on my throbbing bone. The head of it was so bloated and the purple skin was stretched taut and shiny with my goo. “You let other lads stick their woodies up your chuff?”

“I fucking love it!” he beamed at me. “I love having huge knobs splitting my arse in two! Big thick boners with fat bell-ends to really work my boy-cunt and get me gasping!”

He leered at my cock and I knew he was imagining it banging away at his ‘boy-cunt’ as he’d called it. I cried out, breathless, as my jizz started firing off in long strings from my gaping slit and while I was still cumming, Jake grabbed my left hand and thrust it between his legs, under his giant nuts.

“Feel my arsehole!” he gasped as my sprog kept flinging. “Feel how wide and stretched it is from all the big cocks that have been up it!”

I raised my fingers upwards and groped at how puffy and swollen his huge anal ring felt. It was wet from his sweat and slimy from his bum and the sensation of it, while on one level disgusting, was on another hugely exciting from the knowledge of what had cleaved it open and inflamed its clamped muscle to such an outrageous size.

My cock started spurting with renewed vigour just as Jake’s began a much more powerful eruption. I ran my finger around his spasming entrance as he cried out, “Ah yeah! Feel my big fuck-hole!”

Thick ribbons of his cum were spraying from his big pole and he grinned at me, revelling in having me see him enjoy his climax. We both kept wanking frantically, milking our cocks for all they were worth, and as his orgasm subsided I worked the end of my finger up his hot wet hole and grinned into his surprised face when it made him start creaming off more powerfully again.

When our jizz had finally abated and we’d clambered off his bed, we laughed at how covered in spunk we were and how the tip of my finger had a moist brown smear on it.

“All that stuff about bum sex?” I asked him as we cleaned up in his bathroom. “Was it just… you know… wank-off talk?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, wiping his chest off with toilet roll. “Are you asking if I have actually done stuff with other dudes? If we’ve screwed each other’s butts?”

“Well, yeah,” I shrugged, washing my hands more thoroughly than I ordinarily would. “I guess what you said was just you messing about, was it?”

“Of course it wasn’t!” he called over to me. “A lot of guys these days, Shane – well, in England, at least – are a bit more… well… I guess, ‘adventurous’ about sex than maybe they were say twenty or thirty years ago…”

“But you’re straight,” I queried. “You’ve got a girlfriend and, from what you’ve told me, the two of you are pretty serious.”

“I suppose that’s the whole point,” he said, tossing the scrunched up tissue into the toilet and flushing it. “The stuff I do with other guys isn’t serious at all. It’s just sex… a bit of fun with no strings… the two of us busting our nuts, that’s all.”

“Is it as simple as that?” I asked him through the mirror above the sink. “I mean, don’t you form… you know… attachments or whatever?”

“Fucking hell, mate!” he grinned back at me. “I just have sex with dudes – it’s not like I’m gay!”

“Is there a difference?” Now I was genuinely confused.

“Of course there’s a difference,” he laughed. “Gay guys have relationships… they move in together and go shopping for curtains and stuff like that. The shit I get up to… well, there’s nothing meaningful about it. It’s just mates messing about when the girls aren’t around.”

“It’s a bit more than that,” I countered. “I mean, sex is supposed to be… you know… ‘special’ maybe…?”

I realised how lame I sounded but I couldn’t think of a better way of putting it.

Jake roared with laughter as I’d expected him to.

“You wanna get with the times, mate! You guys out there in Oz are still living in the ‘fifties!”

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I’d planned on staying with my dad’s brother, my Uncle Robert, for just a few nights to start off my backpacking around the UK before heading across to Europe. As it turned out, though, I had such a beaut time with him and his son Jake – so much happened that was fun and eye-opening – that I decided to stay with them for the whole six weeks of my trip.

My upbringing in Brisbane was conservative to put it mildly. My dad ran our house like a monastery and any references to sexual stuff – even just having to ask for different underwear when my junk was getting too big for my jocks – was totally off-limits.

Now that I’m eighteen, life in my dad’s house was feeling cramped and claustrophobic. I guess that’s why it felt so liberating to bunk up with Uncle Robert and my cousin Jake.

The very first night when I was getting ready for bed, Jake just walked right into my bedroom in his underwear and sprawled himself out on the chair by the desk. I couldn’t help but notice he was stashing a pretty big mound in the pouch of his boxers. Looking back, it’s obvious he wanted me to see it.

“Don’t you English guys knock when you come into a room?” I asked him with a broad smirk to show him I wasn’t really that fussed. Back at home, though, there’s no way we’d just walk into each other’s bedrooms without knocking and waiting to be asked in.

“Me and dad have an open door policy,” my cousin grinned. “Except when I’ve got Ellie, my girlfriend, over or dad’s entertaining Debbie who he’s sort of seeing on and off.”

“Don’t you like your privacy?” I asked him, unbuttoning my jeans.

“I’m not saying the doors always stay open,” he shrugged. “But we both like to see what each other’s getting up to!”

“Sounds all right,” I chuckled, thinking how refreshing it was to be in a house with guys who were so relaxed around each other. I’d always enjoyed the carefree atmosphere between me and my mates in the locker-room after football, and I hoped it would be a bit like that here in my uncle’s house.

“I so dig your accent!” Jake laughed. “The way you say ‘all right’… like ‘aw roigh’… how is it?… ‘ahr roight’… no I can’t do it…”

“Don’t even try, mate!” I laughed, deliberately emphasizing my Australian twang. I found it pretty funny that Jake found my accent that strong because both my parents were born in England and so back home people are always saying I sound like a pom.

When I pulled my jeans down, Jake called out, “Whoa! Looks like you inherited the Furlong gene!”

“The Furlong gene?” I asked, unsure as to why seeing my underwear had caused such a reaction.

“Yeah, you’re making a hell of a bulge in your boxers!”

“Oh, that,” I blushed. “It’s a bit embarrassing really.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed,” he laughed. “You should show it off like I do!”

He raised his hips from the chair and rubbed the straining front of his tight stripy boxer trunks as if he was proud of the enormous mound made by his thick floppy cock and the twin bulges of his nuts.

“You mean it’s a family thing?” I asked, stepping out of my daks. “There really is a Furlong gene?”

“I dunno if there’s an actual gene,” he grinned. “But I’m just as hung as my dad – maybe a bit more so – so we’ve always joked that it must be inherited.”

“Your dad? You’ve seen his dick? You guys joke about knob size?!”

“Of course I’ve seen his dick!” Jake laughed. “He used to get hung up about nudity and stuff, but he’s pretty cool about it now. I mean, it’s all guys together in this house, isn’t it?”

“I guess…”

“What about your dad’s dick?” Jake asked. “He must have the Furlong gene too…?”

“I’ve no idea,” I shrugged, sitting down on my bed to take off my socks. “Things are really different back home. My dad – your Uncle Richard – is a real wowser if I’m honest. He won’t tolerate what he calls ‘smut talk’ and we never see each other in just our undies, never mind in the buff.”

“In that case, you’ll find this house a bit of a shock to the system, Shane!” Jake laughed.

“No, I reckon I’ll like it,” I smiled, finding it surprisingly fun to dag around with my cousin both wearing just our underwear. Jake obviously liked flaunting his over-stocked bulge for me and I found that I also quite enjoyed the way he kept glancing with admiration at the way I was filling out the front of my own well-stretched boxers. “It’s nice to able to unwind a bit!”

He got up and walked over to the bedroom door. “I better leave you to it, bud. You must be knackered after the long flight and all the travelling.”

“You can say that again.”

“It’s nice for us to finally meet after all this time. I’ve been suggesting to dad, since I was like three or something, that we should go out to Oz so I could meet my cousin Shane. There’s only… what… two years between us…”

“Yeah, I’ve always wondered why dad was so reluctant to come back over to the UK and meet up with the rellies – especially Uncle Robert.”

“He usually gets called Rob,” Jake told me with a smirk. “Only call him Robert when you want to fuck him off.”

“Oh right,” I said, wondering how many times I’d called him Uncle Robert on the drive back from Heathrow. “Thanks for letting me know.”

Before leaving me to get some desperately-needed sleep, Jake said, “The wifi password is ‘tipple’, the name of our old cat, and there’s a shared drive with the letter F with a shit-load of porn on it. Just in case you want something to… er… help you sleep!”

“Doesn’t your dad ever notice it’s there?”

“Notice it’s there?” Jake laughed. “He practically lives there! There’s a directory called ‘rob’ and another called ‘jake’.”

“Wow!” I laughed. “This is a pretty open household, isn’t it?!”

“Dad’s stuff is… well… of a very specific type and probably not for the squeamish, but my stuff’s pretty wide-ranging and you’ll probably find something you like if you hunt around a bit.”

“I’ll… er… take a look tomorrow,” I said, unsure of how to respond to such a bizarre invitation. “I’m pretty bushed right now and I think I’m just gonna hit the sack.”

“Whatever you like,” he nodded. “Might be something to do when you wake up at three in the morning and can’t get back to sleep.”

He went off to bed and I found that, as tired as I was, my interest in what Jake had said was preventing me from getting to sleep. My mind was way too active and there was no way I was going to be able to just lie there and naturally doze off.

I got my tablet out of my backpack, logged into the wifi and quickly found the shared drive that Jake had mentioned. I didn’t look in his dad’s stuff – I figured it would be full of nuns or schoolgirls or something equally predictable – but instead dived straight into the directory called ‘jake’.

Would the computer in his bedroom show what I was doing? Would he know which directories and files I was looking at?

I wasn’t sure but I was too curious to care.

There were several subfolders and I tried the one called ‘hot’. I tapped on a couple of the movies and found they were pretty standard porn – a girl taking a jacuzzi with a guy coming in to join her and a young stay-at-home mum having a plumber come to visit – but something about them struck me as slightly odd. It took a few more movies for me to figure out what it was: the camera’s main focus was always on the guy rather than the girl.

In just about all of the porn I’d seen back in Oz, any guys showing up were basically just a cock on legs: you never got to see their muscles or their faces and you sure as hell never got a lingering shot of their behinds. But this stuff was like straight porn which had been filmed by gay guys. The cameraman seemed fixated on showing off how big the bloke’s prick was and how firm his arse-cheeks were – the girl was kind of ignored no matter how cute she looked.

A folder titled ‘cool’ was full of bisexual threesomes. At first I was like ‘meh’ – that stuff’s never really appealed – but after flicking through a couple I realised, again, that this wasn’t run-of-the-mill. It wasn’t two girls and a guy like most of the bisexual stuff I’d seen – it was always two guys and one girl, and the guys always got it on together far more than they got up to anything with the bored-looking girl.

“Okay,” I thought, “he likes his porn with a few cocks in it. It doesn’t make the dude gay. And anyway he said he has a girlfriend.”

I clicked on the directory called ‘fun’ and that was when I started to wonder. This was all gay stuff with the dudes looking buff and the emphasis exclusively directed at the anal. These guys were screwing each other’s big solid arses every which way they could – more ways than I knew about since dad always has the family filter switched to max back at home. I realised that, while there was a huge variety in the men’s ages and races, the one thing they all had in common was that they were all proudly showing off the most humungous cocks I’d ever seen.

I’d sneaked a look at gay porn before – which guy hasn’t? – but the dudes in that had been cutesy pretty-boys, kissing each other’s skinny little dicks and looking longingly into each other’s eyes. This stuff was in a different league with these worked-out hunks ramming their massive pricks up each other’s big gaping arseholes and butt-fucking roughly with their sweat making their straining muscles glisten.

Was this what Jake was into? Was this what he considered ‘fun’?

Grabbing my cock and wanking it – it had grown hard in my shorts from all the porn I’d seen – I watched two men frantically fucking doggy-style and wondered if Jake flogged himself off looking at this kind of stuff.

Did his girlfriend know her bloke had a gay side? And that his gay side liked his men well buffed-up and with cocks as long and as thick as their forearms.

I clicked on movie he’d called ‘best.mp4’, knowing that this was probably one he would regularly return to when he was jerking off. The movie showed a guy in a sort of video booth, kneeling in front of a big hole which had been cut in one wall. It didn’t surprise me too much when some other dude’s huge hard-on was slowly pushed through it nor that the kneeling bloke eagerly took the thing into his mouth. After a minute or so of really sloppy cock sucking – which was kind of hot to watch, actually – the dude pulled his cock away from the hole, turned around and shoved his backside slap bang against it. I assumed the cocksucker was going to stand up and work his knob between the guy’s cheeks but instead he stayed kneeling and – to my gasping surprise – started feeding on the bloke’s arse, pushing his tongue right into his hairy crack.

“Oh Jake! Fuck!” I called out as my own cock started spurting.

Even as I was cumming – still spraying my jizz all over the t-shirt I’d worn for thirty-odd hours since putting on back in Brissy – I was hoping to God my cousin couldn’t see which of his movies had made my balls start heaving.

---

“You boys were especially noisy last night,” Uncle Rob said at breakfast the morning after Jake and I had masturbated on his bed. “A sort of odd, rhythmic, headboard-thumping noisiness.”

I blushed, praying for my toast to pop up, but Jake just laughed and said, “Oh yeah, we were just wanking off. Don’t worry, dad, I wasn’t defiling my little cousin’s innocence. Not just yet, anyway.”

He chortled with laughter but I blushed even deeper and just stared fixedly at the toaster. I so couldn’t believe he’d just said that! Couldn’t he have pretended were like – I dunno – sawing some wood or something?

Jake had been the one to start it. I’d found I couldn’t sleep, even though I’d been tired on and off most of the day, and when I’d got up to take a pee at about twelve, I’d noticed his bedroom light was still on. We’d chatted together in our jocks, talking about music and stuff, and then Jake had asked – totally out of the blue – if I fancied jerking off with him before we both turned in.

Even before I could say no I’ll take a pass on that mate, his semi-hard dick was out of his shorts and he was beating the thing off saying, “I so fucking need this!” The thing was floppy but huge – way bigger than mine at half-mast – and I suddenly felt a wave of fascination watching him tug his foreskin up and down as he slowly boned up to full size right in front of me.

He’d thrown me a smile – a really cheeky, naughty smile – and whispered, “Come on, cuz… join in with me… if nothing else, it’ll help you sleep!”

Finding myself cracking a fat of my own, I pulled the front of my own boxers down and started stroking my own big chub alongside his. Soon the frame of his bed was creaking like a see-saw and the two of us were telling each other what sort of things turned us on.

It had started with girlie stuff, as you’d probably figure. Jake told me what he fantasizes about getting up to with his girlfriend Ellie, and I told him about Shauna, a girl back home I think is sweet but have been too chicken to ask out on a date.

“Did you look through my porn folder on the F drive?” he’d asked, bashing away at his big dick with such force that his bollocks were thumping up and down against his wrist.

I’d nodded and he’d added, “See anything you like?”

“There was more dude stuff on there than I expected, to be honest,” I replied.

He’d turned to me and grinned. “Nothing wrong with a bit of cock and bum fun, Shane.”

“You into guys as well as girls then?” I asked, becoming aware that both our hands were stroking a whole lot faster.

“I know a nice dick when I see one,” he’d told me. “And a hairy arsehole can be a turn-on too.”

I’d smiled, surprised but appreciating his honesty, and that’s when I’d started questioning him about whether he preferred pussies or pricks and what sort of stuff he’d got up to with dudes. Soon we were both whacking off at full speed, making his bed pound with our rhythm and his headboard thump loudly against his dad’s bedroom wall.

It had seemed so horny last night but now that it was morning and we were all standing around in the kitchen, instead it seemed so mortifyingly embarrassing.

“It’s okay, Shane,” Uncle Rob said soothingly. “There’s no problem if you guys want to masturbate together. My own bedsprings still get to creak occasionally!”

“It’s… it’s not that,” I stammered. “It’s just in my house, with dad being so… well… strict… it’s not something we ever talk about.”

“Oh yes,” Uncle Rob grinned. “Your father was always a touch on the puritanical side. Even when we were growing up.”

“I’m used to being in a very traditional household,” I explained. “I get embarrassed pretty easily because of that, especially about sexual stuff.”

“That’s okay,” Uncle Rob said, coming across to affectionately pat me on the arm. “Until recently, I used to be like that myself. Things have changed a lot in this house over the last couple of years and I hope that it’ll be good for you to be around us and see how things work for the two of us.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant so I just shrugged and said, “I hope so.”

Jake bellowed with laughter as he filled up his orange juice. “You make it sound like we’re the Adams Family or something!”

“We are a bit… er…. odd,” Uncle Rob replied.

“We’re the future, Shane, mate!” Jake chortled. “In twenty years or so, everyone’ll be living like we do!”

Again I had no idea what he was talking about – maybe they’d had one of those systems installed where all your lighting and stuff gets controlled by an app on your phone – so I just smiled and nodded.

---

“So how do you crack onto guys?” I asked Jake a couple of nights later when we were dagging around in his bedroom. “I mean, are they mates you hit on or are they random guys you meet up with somehow?”

Jake laughed. “You’re pretty interested in the dude sex I get up to, aren’t you?”

“Why don’t you call it what it is – gay sex?” I smiled.

“Because it’s not gay sex – I told you that. There’s no romantic stuff, no getting heavy with each other. It’s just two guys messing around together when their nuts are full of spunk and they’re running hard-ons that won’t go down.”

“You make it sound… I dunno… clinical… mechanical…”

He chuckled at that. “Seriously, Shane, it’s anything but! Even without the schmaltzy stuff, sex with another guy can be really steamy!”

He was right – I was pretty interested in this, but I wasn’t sure exactly why.

I was by now finding that I was really enjoying my time with Uncle Rob and Jake. I’d only intended on staying a few nights before heading off with my backpack, but being around them had turned out to be so much fun that I’d extended it to a week.

Uncle Rob was really sweet – so much more laid-back than my dad that it was hard to believe they were brothers – and he’d clearly clicked with me as the nephew he’d never known. We went out every day, the three of us and Uncle Rob’s mate Guy, and the four of us had quickly bonded and had become as comfortable around each other as long-time mates.

I’ve always felt awkward around girls, if I’m honest, and over the last couple of years I’ve realised that I can only really be myself in all-male company. Hanging around with Uncle Rob, Jake and Guy was something else, though – it seemed to take my enjoyment of being one of the lads to a whole new level.

Jake and I were soon getting along as well as brothers and Uncle Rob and Guy were a bit like a pair of brothers too. There was a closeness to them, an easy naturalness in the way they chatted and had fun together, and I got the feeling – as stupid as it sounds – that they were like our two dads, with me and Jake as their kids in the back of the car.

Tonight hadn’t been any fun at all, though. Uncle Rob’s girlfriend, Debbie, had come over for a meal and all the banter and jokes had very abruptly stopped. The meal was formal and the conversation stilted, and as soon as we’d been able to, Jake and I had disappeared up to his bedroom together.

“Have you ever done any dude stuff?” Jake asked, and I assumed he meant sex with guys.

“A couple of years ago, when I was like sixteen or something, I used to jerk off with my mate Pete,” I told him. “Over at his place, right after school.”

“Did you jerk each other’s dicks too?”

I nodded and blushed. I didn’t know why I felt so hung-up about admitting stuff like this since, not only had I wanked off with my cousin a couple of nights earlier, he’d proudly told me that he had full butt-sex with other guys, both as giver and receiver.

Jake smiled. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Shane. It’s really nice – a bit fraternal, I guess – for guys get intimate with each other, even guys who both happen to fancy girls.”

I nodded again. “Yeah – that’s how it felt. I liked being with Pete like that, rubbing our dicks together and smiling at each other. It was fun to reach over and flog each other off. Sort of naughty but nice, if you know what I mean.”

Jake grinned. “A bit like the two of us the other night…?”

“Yeah,” I smiled. “A lot like that.”

Then he asked, “Did you ever reach a bit further back and finger each other’s hot little butts?”

“No,” I giggled, amused by his phrasing of the question. “It wouldn’t really have occurred to me to do something like that and I’m sure it would never have crossed Pete’s mind in a million years.”

“Did you ever suck each other off? A bit of sixty-nining with your school trousers yanked down…”

I shook my head. “Again no. It would have seemed too gay for me to suggest something like that, even if I’d have wanted to. I know you say it isn’t necessarily gay for two guys to play around together, and I kind of get that… but to me back then, it would have seemed like I was coming onto Pete if I’d suggested we should suck each other’s dicks.”

“Pity, mate,” Jake smiled. “You missed a good time.”

“I doubt it… Pete was a Queensland lad and very old fashioned. It would have been totally awkward doin’ anything like that with him.”

“Would it fuck!” Jake chortled. “Well, maybe at first, but once you’d got started and got past your embarrassment, believe me, mate – you’d have been well into each other and slamming your pricks down each other’s throats!”

“You reckon!?” I laughed back.

“I know it!” he grinned. “You should see me and my mate Marcus! We were a bit weirded out by getting sexy with each other the first night we did stuff, but now we’re like a pair of fucking rabbits!”

“So it is your mates you mainly crack onto?” I asked, recalling my original question.

“Mates… friends of friends… guys who give me the eye…”

I was about to ask him how he knew he was being given the eye, when Jake suddenly remembered something and sat bolt upright before grabbing his phone.

“I’ve got some stuff on here you might wanna see… me and Marcus fooling around in my room at uni…”

“What… havin’ gay sex… er, dude sex, I mean…?”

“Yeah, playing around together on my bed. I’ll let you see what the two of us look like… as long as it won’t freak you out too much!”

“Of course not,” I quickly agreed, hardly believing what he was offering to show me. “I’d be really interested…”

He scrolled through his movies and located the one he wanted. As he found the right part I was wondering if I could get my hands on his phone and have a squiz through the rest. How much fun would that be?!

He passed me it and I stared at the screen in awe. I couldn’t believe how fabulous he and his mate looked, writhing around bollock-naked together on his messed-up doona.

The mate was blond haired, muscular and as fit as fuck. He and Jake were wrestling around together, laughing and trying to pin each other down, and I realised both of them were trying to get their hard-ons into the other one’s mouth. I kept seeing the mate’s cock, bobbing stiffly around between his legs, and although it had a good meaty size it didn’t look quite so impressive compared to Jake’s massive shlong which kept flashing into view.

“How do we look?” Jake asked me eagerly.

“Kinda tasty,” I understated it, with a sheepish grin.

“Only kind of?” he chuckled, leaning over to see the screen. On the movie, he’d managed to roll his mate over and was jabbing his big curving dick roughly into the blond boy’s bubble-butt. They were laughing wildly together, as Jake’s broad purple helmet kept pushing in between the pert round arse-cheeks underneath him, until the mate managed to buck him off so that Jake ended up being the one pinned-down with a hard-on looming over his giggling face.

“Okay, I admit it,” I grinned. “It actually looks pretty spectacular…”

“You’ve seen guys doing stuff together in porn… did you think that was ‘spectacular’ too?”

“The stuff I saw at home was a bit… I dunno… kissy-cuddly for me… the boys were too girlie and it was more about the romance. You two guys look like mates having fun together… just two lads enjoying getting sexy with each other’s fit-looking bodies…”

Jake smiled, liking the compliment, and then asked, “What about the stuff of mine you took a look at on the F drive?”

“Yeah, I liked that,” I admitted, annoyed that I could still feel my cheeks blush even though I clearly had nothing to be ashamed about in this house. “It was kinda tasty too.”

Jake smiled and grabbed the phone from me. “I’ll move it on to the best bit.”

He passed it back to me and I saw that they were now sixty-nining. Jake was on top, bucking his hips and driving about half of his long, sweeping cock into his mate’s gaping mouth. His own lips were slurping up and down his mate’s thinner erection, consuming and expelling it with rough, rapid movements.

“Jesus Christ!” I said, totally entranced by the sight of them.

The mate had his fingers wedged in Jake’s butt-crack as he sucked him, groping around as if searching for my cousin’s well-worked hole. Jake pulled off from his cock and I heard his tinny speaker voice call out, “Oh yeah!” The mate’s hand started sliding in and out between his flexing cheeks and I realised I was watching Jake having his arsehole fingered.

“So how tasty is this?” Jake asked me. “Still only ‘kinda’…?”

“I reckon the front of my jeans can answer that one for me!”

Jake looked down at my zipper and laughed at how hefty my bulge was. Then he beamed an encouraging smile at me, pleased no doubt that I was overcoming my embarrassment about what I was packing down there.

I returned my eyes to the movie and saw the mate release Jake’s cock from his mouth. He pushed his head upwards, licking my cousin’s big, solid nut-sack and then kept going, still licking, as he worked his nose and mouth into the furry crack his fingers had just vacated.

Jake did the same, licking lower between his mate’s thick, chunky legs. He gave the ball-bag a good kissing as he headed south, and then pushed his face still lower and craned his neck to get a taste of the hairy furrow behind it.

I looked up at Jake, puzzled. “Are you guys now doing what I think you’re doing?”

He grabbed the phone off me and looked at it. “Oh shit!” he laughed. “I’d forgotten we did that!”

“Were you licking each other’s arse-cracks?”

“We were rimming each other, yeah. I told you I like to eat dude-butt!”

“Can I take another look at it?” I asked. “It’s like a sixty-nine but a bit more… I dunno…”

“Bummy?” he grinned, almost triumphantly. “It’s an anal sixty-nine, or at least that’s what I call it.”

He passed me the phone and I had a good perv at him and his mate with their faces buried hungrily into each other’s arses. They were feasting on each other, both kissing and licking their buddies’ wrinkled poopers, with their noses wedged deep between each other’s squat muscly cheeks.

“Do you kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?” I smirked at him.

“I sure do,” he chuckled, “but she keeps wondering why I’ve got such shitty breath!”

I had to laugh at that. “You dirty bastard, Jake Furlong!”

“We share a lot of genes, you and me, bud,” he reminded me. “I bet there’s a little bit of you that’d be into that kinda thing.”

“No way!” I called out. “The stink of another guy’s back-alley would floor me for def!”

“It doesn’t stink,” he said back, “at least not in a bad way. I mean, you’d think it would – you’d think it would be gross – but it’s actually really sexy shoving your face in another dude’s dirt-box!”

“Sexy?” I asked incredulously. “It’d make me spew! Fuckin’ oath it would!”

“If it’s so awful why did it turn me and my mate Marcus on so much?”

That was a good question and I gestured for the phone. “Pass it here, mate… let me see you guys doing it again…”

I peered at their cocks thrusting between their sweaty chests as they mauled each other’s butts. Their thick rods were both rock hard and their swollen helmets were glistening. It looked like they were pumping out precum as fast as their tongues could dribble spit, and I wondered if – just maybe – rimming a guy’s arse would really be as horny as Jake claimed.

“Okay… fair enough,” I nodded. “You both look like you’re pretty cool with it…”

He chuckled and grinned at me. “Have you ever eaten out a girl… her pussy I mean?”

I shook my head, knowing I was blushing again. “I haven’t done very much at all with a girl, if I’m being totally honest.”

“Well, you can believe me, mate,” he grinned. “Eating out a girl is hot, but tongue-fucking a dude’s bunghole is smoking!”

“I reckon I’m gonna have to take your word on that, Jake!”

“I reckon you don’t have to,” he replied, his face becoming more serious.

When I threw him a questioning look he went on, “I mean, you could give it a try if you’re curious. We’re cousins so it’s kinda like keeping it in the family…”

At first I didn’t understand – the dregs of the jet-lag and all the wine I’d drank to dull the awkwardness of the meal slowing my faculties. But then I realised what he was saying, and asked, “You mean you’re offering me to lick your backside…?”

“Not lick it, just have a little sniff… see if you like it.”

“Come on Jake, get real,” I tried to laugh. “You’re my cousin and I reckon you’re ace, mate, but I’m not gonna go sniffing around your doody-hole!”

He smiled back at me. “I’m only offering because you looked so interested in seeing me and Marcus doing it, and you admitted it could be ‘chipper’ which I assume means good…”

“I don’t wanna knock yer back, Jake, but it’s your cutter… your fucking mud-flaps, dude.” I had to really force myself to act like this was a normal conversation; that this was just dicking around talk between two doofy lads.

“You can’t be that grossed out by it!” he laughed. “You didn’t have much trouble shoving your finger up it when we were wanking off!”

“Only ’cause you grabbed my hand and pushed it back there!”

“I didn’t make you stick your finger out, Shane! Or force you to slide it up my fudge tunnel!”

I laughed back. “Yeah… you’ve got a point there! But putting my face down there, mate… it’s a bit of a big ask…”

“I’m not asking you to do it,” he shrugged. “I’m just making the offer if you want to see what it’s like. I’d keep my shorts pulled up if you think my bare arse would be too weird.”

“You seem bloody keen to get my face stuck in your butt…”

“I just want to be your guinea pig to prove that it’s dead sexy. Not doing it with me specifically, but doing it with another guy… maybe a lad you know back home…”

As whack as it sounds, the way he was selling it was making me start to feel quite tempted.

Jake’s permissive approach to sex was proving a real lightning bolt for me. I’d never been that interested in homo stuff, but the Jake’s attitude towards it – as something that was laddish and playful and a bit of fun between mates – was giving it a new appeal that I was curious to explore.

Would I do something like this back home in Brisbane, I wondered? Maybe I would if I found a guy with the same easy-going view, and only if I could do it in a way that my dad would never get wind of.

“I’ll just hitch my jeans down,” he went on, “so you can have a little sniff of the back of my boxers. If it grosses you out, we’ll just have a laugh about how skanky my arse is. But if you like it… well, at least you’ll know that it’s something you might want to try sometime.”

“What if your dad comes in?” I asked, feeling about twelve.

He shrugged. “He wouldn’t see it as a big deal… but it’s not very likely ’cause he’s probably smooching with the lovely Debbie.”

I wondered if they’d have sex and if we’d hear them. The walls in this house didn’t seem especially well soundproofed.

Jake stood up and grinned. “You want a little whiff of my boy-butt, then?”

I nodded, hardly believing I really was about to do this. He turned around and undid his belt and the buttons on his fly.

“You won’t fart will you?” I asked.

“Of course I fucking won’t,” he snapped. “I want you to enjoy it.”

He yanked his daks down so that I could see his butt-cheeks looking plump and pudgy in his tight-fitting Diesel boxer-trunks. Their colour was light blue and I was relieved that between his two round buns there was no sign of anything like a skid-mark.

“You’re def not having me on?” I asked, wondering if he was secretly filming me about to press my face into his butt so he could take the piss afterwards.

“No way!” Jake assured me. “I showed you how much I like doing it… that movie wasn’t like staged or anything… you could see it was pukka, mate!”

Well that much was true. You couldn’t set up something like that as a joke.

I knelt down behind and took a hesitant sniff about two inches away from the material of his shorts. I couldn’t really smell anything. At best, there was a very slight whiff a bit like locker-room sweat.

“Not from way out there, man!” Jake huffed, reaching down to urge me forward by the shoulder. “You’ve got to push your face in a bit, get a proper smell of my crack!”

“I’ll go in as close as I’m happy to, Jake,” I called up to him, shrugging his hand off me. “Don’t try and push me further than I want to… if I don’t like it, I don’t want you to force me…”

“I’m not gonna fucking force you, bud! You just need to get up close… get the full effect!”

I really wasn’t sure about this, but I pushed my face into the material of his jocks and took a long, deep sniff of them. To my amazement, they smelled kind of interesting. Not shitty or grodey like you’d expect from a dude’s bum. More sexy and manly – like the locker-room odour I’d just got a whiff off, but now much stronger and more intense, a sort of distillation of the blokey funk you get after a really rowdy, sweaty match.

I sniffed again, more deeply, and even wedged my nose between his cheeks, feeling like a dog sniffing another dog’s butt. The smell inside his crack was even richer and sexier and I actually felt my cock starting to tingle in my jocks at how thrilling and intoxicating this guy’s smell was back here.

“Do you like it?” Jake called down, the broad grin in his voice showing that he knew full well how much I did.

I pulled out from his underwear and called back, “It’s like loadsa guys all together after sport… so pungent and potent it makes your head spin!”

“Do you like that kind of smell?” he asked.

“When I’m part of it… yeah… it feels like you’re all in the team… it makes you feel as if there’s a connection between you…”

“Well, that’s what rimming’s like,” he smiled. “You get a real buzz of togetherness and intimacy. I dunno why but it makes it even more intense that it’s another lad you’re feeling it with…”

I could now see exactly where he was coming from and, even though it still felt totally deaky to be kneeling here sniffing my cousin’s butt like this, I was pleased he was showing me the appeal of the ‘dude sex’ he obviously found such an important part of his love life.

I was flattered that he was, in his way, teaching me this stuff, so I could maybe do it for real if I found the right sort of guy with the right attitude.

He yanked the back of his shorts down a bit, revealing to me his bare butt-cheeks.

“Whoa! Rein it back in, fella!” I called up, but Jake just grinned down at me.

“Have a sniff of the real deal, mate. Once you’ve had your nose in there, I swear to god, you’ll be gagging to rim somebody!”

I stared at his bum, equally tempted and appalled by the wiry fur bristling out from his crack. I could just about smell it from back where I was: earthy and bitter, thick and enticing.

“I dunno, mate,” I muttered. “It’s your fuckin’ bare-nuddie arse, Jake.”

“Just a little whiffter, Shane… just to see what it’s like…”

He was a bit spotty between his cheeks, especially low down where his dick-stretched ringpiece would be hiding. Apart from that, though, I had to admit my cousin had a nice-looking butt. The cheeks were chunky and solid and had a squat roundness to them, although the hairy crack between them might take a bit of getting used to.

I leaned forwards and eased my nose into his warm, fuzzy cleft. Even before I’d breathed in I knew the smell was delicious. Just the merest hint of it, a few stray molecules diffusing up my nostrils, brought about in me the most incredible rush.

I moved further into him, gaining in confidence, and inhaled his most private of musks as deeply as I could. I loved the dry acrid scent in here – who could have known that a guy’s arse could smell so exciting! My cock was steadily pumping up like an airbed rhythmically expanding and thickening inside my shorts.

Jake called out in encouragement, “Ah yeah! Get right in there!” and bent over for me to get further stuck in. I wedged my nose as deep as I could into his wiry crack, burrowing my face into his round, supple cheeks.

I couldn’t get enough of his stink… except, it wasn’t really a stink. It was a lovely, rich and intensely masculine smell, something that I knew would be subtly unique to Jake. It was personal and special, I guess that’s what I’m trying to say. It made me feel like we were as close as two guys can get and, in spite of all our years of separation, we had a deep, powerful bond.

Then I licked him – Jesus, I can hardly believe I actually licked his chuff – and tasted the flavour of my cousin’s hot, swollen ring.

He loved the feel of my tongue on his well-fucked tail-pipe and grabbed the back of my head and pushed me forward. He shouted back to me, “Come on, lick me out! Eat my fucking dumpster… slide your tongue in and out!”

I wanted to rim him – I reckon I was even more turned-on as Jake had been when he’d been feasting on his mate’s blond butt – but I kept reminding myself that this guy was my cousin and that made me pull back against the demands of his hand.

I got to my feet, panting for breath, and I realised my cock was as hard as granite in the front of my jeans.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” I gasped, “I can’t go that far… you’re my cousin, mate!”

Jake turned around, hitching his jocks back up, and smirked at the very obvious full-grown mongrel my daks were struggling to contain.

“Cousins can get married,” he said. And then seeing my startled reaction, quickly added, “I mean that it’s legal for cousins to be intimate… that’s what I was trying to say.”

“I know it’s legal, but it wouldn’t feel right, that’s all…”

“But you enjoyed it?” he asked, fastening himself up.

“It was fuckin’ ripper, mate!” I grinned, wondering how much my face stunk of his arse. Good job Uncle Rob wouldn’t be expecting a goodnight kiss when he turned in for the night.

“I really didn’t think I’d go for it,” I went on, adjusting myself and thankful that my chopper was already starting to soften after its sudden blood rush. “I guess I must like boy butt and I never even knew it!”

He laughed at that. “You are so like me first time I did it,” he said. “I reckon we’ve got a lot in common, you and me.”

“The Furlong gene again?” I asked him with a chuckle.

“Could well be,” he nodded back.

I suddenly saw that the movie on the phone was still playing.

“Fuckin’ hell, mate!” I called out. “You’re having your arsehole rooted for real on there!”

Jake was on all-fours and the blond guy was squatting down behind him, fucking my cousin very roughly up the arse.

Jake grabbed the phone and laughed at the sight of the two of them. “Oh Jesus, Shane! I’m really sorry, bud! Are you totally appalled by that?”

I took the phone off him and looked at him having his backside slammed hard and fast by another guy’s cock. The blond guy was loving it, that much was obvious. He was really into knobbing his mate’s bumhole and his big, dangly bollocks were slapping against the back of Jake’s thighs.

But Jake too was clearly enjoying getting rooted. His huge cock was raised up at full crank and pointing forwards underneath his belly, and his face grinning enthusiastically as he called out encouragement to spur on the blond guy’s thrusts.

“I’m not appalled, no,” I told him. “I don’t find sex between dudes disgusting or anything like that!”

“When we wanked off together you seemed kinda shocked that I was up for giving anal…”

“I just hadn’t realised that guys who don’t consider themselves gay would do stuff like this together…”

He nodded. “So now you know that’s what I’m into… that quite a few lads I know get together like this… how do you feel about it?”

“I dunno…” I shrugged, glancing at the fit mate on the screen banging away at my cousin’s mud muscle. “I guess I’m just wondering why the fuck you’re not wankin’ your dick off when you’re so obviously loving having him shag your brains out!”

Jake laughed at that and grabbed the phone back off me. He swiped the playback forward and showed me how things progressed after his blond mate must have cum.

Now Jake was the guy with his dick ball-deep in butt. He was going at it like a stallion, holding his mate steady by grabbing his shoulders, pounding his hips against the blond guy’s buttocks and making long, sweeping jabs with the entire shaft of his big cock.

“If I’d wanked off, I’d have missed breeding his arse!” he chuckled.

I smiled that he’d call it that. Of all the stuff he was doing to his mate’s bum, breeding must be the least likely outcome.

“Is that how you like doing it best?” I asked. “Lookin’ at the back of the other guy’s head…?”

“I prefer giving,” he nodded. “But I like taking it too.”

I stared at the screen, watching my cousin have an orgasm up another boy’s bottom. It looked like he was really seeding the guy, making long, powerful thrusts right up into his guts as he climaxed, and I wondered if after having dude sex, as he called it, it was normal for both guys to have to go and sit on the loo.

“Which way round do you think you would like it?” my cousin asked me.

I shrugged. I really had no idea.

“I never really thought about it,” I told him. “I’ve never thought o’ gay stuff as my bowl o’ rice.”

He crouched down on the floor and got on all fours with his bum sticking out.

“Get down behind me,” he said. “Shove your crotch against my arse. See how it feels to be in the position Marcus was.”

I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of this, but as we both had our jeans on it wasn’t like we could do anything for real.

I knelt down behind him and shuffled up between his shins. I grabbed his hips with both hands and pressed the front of my jeans against the cheeks of his bum. His arse felt lovely and solid, even through the material of his jeans and undies, and I was surprised at how pleasant it was to be in the bum sex position with another young guy.

“Ah, that’s dead nice, that is,” Jake said, gyrating his butt-crack up and down my soft squidgy dick. “You’re packing a nice bit of meat between your legs, Shaney boy!”

I chuckled at the silly name he’d given me, holding his hips firm as I worked my bulge against the tight furrow between his cheeks.

“How’s it feel for you?” he asked. “You getting horny?”

“Not really,” I smiled, still bucking my hips as if I was doing my cousin up the butt. “But it feels more comfortable… more natural… than I would have expected.”

“More natural?”

He was really working his back-end against my package – really pushing the lower part of his crease, where his little brown eye would be winking, as hard as he could into my big floppy cock. It was obvious that this was turning him on and I sort of wished that it was doing something for me.

“Yeah… I guess I would have thought it would feel weird to be like this… in an anal position with another dude, I mean. But it feels all right, actually… not especially sexy, but not uncomfortable either.”

“Look at yourself in my wardrobe mirror,” he suggested, trying to rub my dick hard with the crack of his arse. “Does it look wrong for you to be like this with another guy?”

I peered over at us, him kneading my crotch between his round beefy buns, and me upright behind him, grinning eagerly like my cock was getting itself some serious brown love.

“No,” I replied, “it doesn’t look wrong at all. Part of me likes it… but mainly ’cause I know how much it would ape my dad out if he could see me like this!”

Jake laughed and pulled away from me. “Okay, mate – if this isn’t doing it for you, let’s swap positions. Maybe you’ll like bending over and having my set of gear poking into your arse…”

We changed roles but I wasn’t expecting to enjoy being the guy out front either.

“I’ve never particularly enjoyed bendin’ over before,” I said, thinking that things like tying my shoelaces had never held any excitement for me. I’d certainly never fantasized about having a guy rub his pecker against my bum.

But once I was crouched there on all-fours like he had been, and he was holding me by the hips and pressing his obvious half-bone against my arse, I realised that being like this was, for some reason, extremely erotic.

“Sorry if I end up with a full-on porker, mate,” Jake said. “This position has quite a few… shall we say… pleasant associations for me!”

I could feel his sconge growing steadily harder through his jeans and I was surprised at how fast mine was also growing bigger and thicker in my boxers.

“Wow!” I muttered. “This is… er… quite something!”

“You getting a stiffy of your own?” Jake chuckled.

I looked across at his wardrobe mirror, amazed at how arousing I looked offering my bum to Jake’s crotch and bending over like I was ready to receive his cock up there. It looked proper gay – how could it not? – but at the same time it seemed so spectacularly hot. Why had I never thought about doing this before? Why had I never imagined myself in this position when I’d been beating off?

“I can’t believe I’m actually runnin’ on full horn!” I laughed.

He grabbed my hips more firmly and worked the mound of his growing rod against me. “I’m getting there too, mate… I just love doing doggy with another dude!”

I ground my bum against Jake’s growing shaft through both our daks, loving how hard and solid it felt between my cheeks and amazed at how hot the two of us looked in his wardrobe mirror.

He grabbed my shoulders and started thrusting roughly against my buttocks and I laughed at our reflection, both amused and incredibly turned-on by how sexy we looked pretending he was doing it gay-style with my bum.

“You really like this, don’t you?” Jake asked, humping my arse like he was enjoying the feel of the friction against his dick.

“I reckon I do, yeah,” I gasped. “I didn’t think I would… but… oh God! It feels so fuckin’ horny bendin’ over for a dude like this!”

“You’re a proper little bum boy,” he laughed. “I bet you’d love a nice big blokey cock ramming away at your tight Aussie arse!”

“I reckon I would,” I said back, realising I was panting. “I reckon it’d be sexy as fuck!”

“I knew you would! We’re both Furlongs, mate… we have a lot in common!”

He was right – my cock was now leaking and aching as it chaffed against my boxers. The front of my jeans was tenting painfully outwards and I wanted nothing more than to yank my zipper down and wank off while Jake forced his big swollen bulge into the crack of my backside.

Without warning, Jake’s bedroom door swung open abruptly and his dad walked in on us like this, simulating butt-sex together. I blushed scarlet and tried to pull forwards away from his son, but he held my shoulders firm and kept rubbing his hard-on against my bum as if he hadn’t noticed we’d been interrupted.

“Excuse me, gentleman,” Uncle Rob called over to us. To my surprise, instead of giving us aggro, he actually looked amused to have caught his son pretending to root my arse on his bedroom floor.

Jake kept bucking his hips against my bum and I realised he didn’t care that his dad could see us in what was essentially a gay fuck position.

He looked over to his dad and panted, “I’m just checking to see if Shane has the Furlong gene, dad!”

Uncle Rob peered pointedly at the front of my straining jeans and chuckled, “I think it’s safe to say he has, Jake!”

“Yeah, he definitely has the dick gene,” Jake grunted, grinding his large, solid lump between my cheeks so hard and so fast there’d be a nasty stain on the inside of my jocks. “But I think I’ve found another similarity!”

Uncle Rob smiled and then said, “Look guys, Debbie and I are heading off to bed, so keep the noise down, if you would.”

I found myself nodding obediently, still crouched there on all fours, unable to stop myself working my arse against Jake’s relentlessly thrusting mound.

Before leaving the room Uncle Rob turned and quipped, “Just one word of advice, fellas. I find that what you’re doing works a whole lot better when you’ve got your trousers and underwear pulled down a bit!”

Jake brayed with laughter but I just flushed an even deeper shade of crimson. Was he saying he didn’t mind if we hitched our clothes down and started butt-fucking for real? That while he was shagging his girlfriend, he was okay with hearing his son using his cousin’s arsehole to match his rhythm?

Jesus, what sort of house had I pitched up in?

In spite of Jake’s protests, I pulled away from him and said I was calling it a night. I went back to the spare room, locked the door, and decided I’d load up my backpack next morning so I could head off around Europe as I’d originally planned. I thought Jake was gold and I liked Uncle Rob too, but all this sex stuff was just way too weird.

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