gay

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  • A hot muggy Saturday

    A hot muggy Saturday

    I can vividly remember the first time that I sucked a dick and let a guy cum in my mouth. It was exactly ten days before my nineteenth birthday. We were about two-weeks into our summer vacation and the town that I live in was very small. And when I say small I mean small. Everyone knew everyone and it seem that everyone had some type of connection to someone else in our community. 

    It was a very hot muggy Saturday morning when a group of us guys got together and headed to the ballpark to play some baseball. We played for about three hours. When the game broke up around 1:30 p.m. all the guys started heading into different directions, but I stuck around to shoot the breeze with my friend Spike and to decide what we were going to do since the other kids had taken off to various parts of the town to do other things. 

    Unable to come up with anything that sounded worthwhile Spike out of nowhere, said, “I want to suck your dick.”

    Initially I thought that he was fooling around so I decided to go along with the joke and said, “Sure why not.”

    Up to that point I can’t remember every actually thinking about having someone suck my dick, and I know for a fact, that I hadn’t wanted to do so myself. I’d seen far too many times what happens in a small town when someone either gets caught sucking dick or who tries to get someone to let them suck their cocks. 

    We got on our bikes and rode to my house, which was only a very short six blocks away. 

    When we got inside my home, Spike and I went straight to my room. 

    Once in my room we had a few awkward minutes of not knowing what to do. But I could tell that Spike was serious about giving me a blowjob because he was fondling his cock through his shorts. 

    I sat down and watched him play with himself, which gave me a big erection. Spike was still a little nervous and unsure of himself, so we started kissing…or what we thought was kissing. However, whatever it was that we were doing was enough to get our dicks harder and to increase the desire to want to suck each other even that much more. 

    We fumbled around and after what seemed like an eternity I walked up to him, unzipped both our shorts, hauled out both our hard dicks and started stroking his. He took the hint and before I knew it, we were jerking each other off.

    After several minutes of heavy, although clumsy foreplay, Spike put my dick into his mouth. He was a little awkward at first, but got the hang of sucking my cock in no time.

    The feeling was fabulous and after several minutes of him loving on my cock, to be honest up to this point I really can’t recall feeling any type of hesitation or fear, but once Spike’s head started bobbing up and down my fear grew rapidly. 

    Not so much for what Spike and I were doing, but out of fear that someone was going to find out and fighting was going to become a daily activity.  

    Those fears quickly subsided and after about a minute of allowing Spike time on my dick, I shot off into his mouth. I remember that he didn‘t swallow, but let the white liquid run out of his mouth and down onto his leg.. 

    As Spike stood, without hesitation, I immediately dropped to my knees and started sucking his dick. I opened wide and surprisingly enough I discovered that I could swallow him all the way down to his pubic hair.

    We were both still young and we had some growing to do so Spike wasn’t all that big so I guess that’s why I could take him so deep.

    It felt great having a dick in my mouth. So from the very moment that my lips touched Spike’s dick I knew in the back of my mind that sucking cock could very easily be an everyday event from here on out. 

     I rolled my lips over my teeth and started to run them up and down his shaft, mouth worshipping his cock like an old pro.
     
    Granted I had no idea what I was doing, but whatever it was that I was doing felt like I was doing it right. 

    Not to mention the look on Spike’s face let me know that maybe I was a natural.  

    Admittedly I remember being in a kind of haze and everything seemed very surreal. 

    In no time I had a nice rhythm going and before I knew it Spike was fucking my mouth, while uttering things about what a good homo I was and how he was going to make me his personal cocksucker. I didn’t mind the name calling. It actually made me hotter.        

    I have no idea how long that I worked on Spike’s cock, but I do know that when he shot off in my mouth, I immediately swallowed his boy load like it was a natural thing to do and it tasted delicious.

    I spent the next couple of minutes licking him clean before I relinquished his cock.

    After gaining my compose I told Spike, “I want to suck you off again,” and he let me but this time it took a lot longer for him to cum in my mouth. Like before I swallowed his sweet juice and I remember thinking that it wouldn’t take much for me to develop an addiction to swallowing boy cum. 

    I have to admit that having that dick in my mouth felt really good, almost as if my mouth was meant to have dick in it. After things calmed down, lying on the bed naked Spike and I kissed and touched each other until it was time for him to go. 

    It’s seemed that even though it had been Spike’s idea, it turned out that I enjoyed sucking dicks…and the taste of cum much more than he did. But he did enjoy getting his dick sucked enough that he never had a problem letting me suck it.
     
    That my friends was the beginning of my cocksucking exploits, which spans forty eight years and possibly a couple thousand loads of warm delicious white cum.

    The end…

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

  • now I know how it feels

    When I was in high school I was always horny.  This was pre-birth control pills so it wasn’t as easy to get laid as it was years later when fear of pregnancy wasn’t so prevalent. Our senior year my male friends and I would relieve the stress by playing around with each other and eventually worked up to jacking each other off.  

    One night a friend, Hunter invited me over to his house. He started talking about sex and before long we both had an erection. 

    Surprisingly, my buddy Hunter started telling me how badly he wanted to find out what it was like to ‘have someone’s mouth on his cock.’ I played it off for a while but finally he came right out and said it, “If you’ll put your mouth on me, I might do it for you but I won’t promise.”

    Even with such a halfhearted promise, I must admit that ever since my buddies and I had started playing with each other, I’d wondered what it would feel like to have a cock in my mouth. But I’d always been scared ‘someone would find out because being gay in those days was the kiss of death.’ 

    But after a few minutes of encouragement from my friend, Hunter, I finely agreed to put my mouth on him. 

    I tried to give him the impression that I was very reluctant and was only doing it so that he would return the favor. 

    With a little grin of anticipation he took off all his clothes and sat on the side of his bed with his legs apart. 

    Reluctantly I got on my knees in front of him and after an appropriate amount of disclaimers and getting his assurances that he would never tell a soul, I closed my eyes and moved my mouth forward.

    His cock felt like a hot stiff iron rod that at the same time was surrounded by soft flesh. As soon as I put my mouth on it, I immediately pulled it off, and flew to the bathroom and washed out my mouth. 

    Being naïve, Hunter and I talked about it as though I’d just run a marathon and what it was like. Then, even though I thought he would back out on me, I asked for the return favor. Like Hunter had done, I sat on the edge of the bed naked with my legs apart. To my surprise, my friend quickly wrapped his lips around my hard cock and then as quickly as I, he ran to the bathroom and washed out his mouth.

    While Hunter was in the bathroom, I thought, “There, I did it, now I know how it feels.” 

    Later we talked about other things but eventually as testosterone drive teenage boys were want to do we returned to the subject of sex. And as usual we got into a strip poker game. We’d done this numerous times before and the loser had to do whatever the winner said which was usually walking naked in front of a window or something like that. I always enjoyed losing for some reason.

    Again, as usual, I lost the game. When I looked at Hunter and said, “What do I have to do, walk around naked again?” 

    Hunter looked very serious and then said, “No, I want something that feels good.” 

    “Like what?” I asked. 

    “I want you to put your mouth on me again.”  

    The request sent chills down my spine and up my cock. After a lot of talking, Hunter convinced me that he’d never tell a soul, so I reluctantly agreed.

    Getting naked, Hunter was soon back on the edge of his bed with his legs spread apart and his small but very hard cock was sticking straight up. 

    Sinking down onto my knees between his legs, I leaned over and wrapped my lips around his stiff cock. I can still remember how warm and how hard it was.  And how soft the skin around the shaft was. 

    Once I had my lips clamped around his stiff shaft, Hunter put his hands on my head and started slowly working his hips and fucking my mouth. It lasted about ten minutes before I tasted a salty taste in my mouth and pulled away. 

    Ashamed that I’d taken my mouth off, I asked, “Do you want me to jack you off instead?”

    But he surprised me when he said, “You can if you want to, but I’ve already finished off in your mouth.”

    Hunter must have liked his cock in my mouth, because he woke me up about two so I could suck him off again. This time I knew what to expect so I knew when he finished off in my mouth. I also went down on him again the next morning before I went home. 

    I don’t think that Hunter kept his word to never tell any of the other guys, because the next time I slept over, our buddy Charles was there too. As usual being teenagers, our conversation turned to sex. 

    Although, Hunter didn’t mention my previous visit, our conversation moved on to how good it felt to have a mouth on your cock. 

    And as usual, I lost the strip poker game and Charles won. After Hunter and Charles put their head together for a couple of minutes, Charles turned and said, “I want you to do the same thing to both of us that you did to Hunter last week.” 

    We were already naked, so all they had to do was sit down on the edge of the bed. Because he was the winner, I did Charles first. When I took his cock in my mouth, he was so embarrassed that he clamped his legs against the sides of my head. I had to almost pry his legs apart so I could suck him off. 

    But once I started moving my mouth up and down his shaft, he forgot his shyness and started working his hips. Throughout the course of the night I sucked them both off a total of three times each. 

    After that, spending the night at Hunter’s house became a monthly thing and only stopped when we both went off to college.  Stopped for Hunter and me that is, but not for Charles and me.  After our little three-some, Charles included himself in our monthly sleepover every chance that he got.  

    Charles and I ended up at the same college so we sort of gravitated together and I started sucking his cock on a more regular basis. 

    In high school Hunter and I use to double date. If we had an especially hot make out session at the drive-in after we took the girls home, Hunter and I would park some place secluded and I’d suck him off before we went home. Or, if I was spending the night, we’d wait and I’d suck him off in his bedroom. Hunter like for me to spend the night because he usually got three or four blowjobs before I’d go home the next day.  

    When I look back on the events I now realize that my young friend, Hunter, had known exactly what he was doing and seduced me that night the way boys seduce young girls into giving up their pussy. Unknowingly, to me when I’d gone to visit my friend Hunter he was planning on fucking my mouth.

    Although it was years ago, it still makes my cock hard to think about Hunter’s hot cock sliding in and out of my mouth. 

    The end…

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

  • Cameron’s new obsession

    Cameron knocked on the door. He was feeling down. He had just broken up with his girlfriend and really needed some help to clear up his head. He had called Nash hoping they could talk a little to make him feel better but Nash had ended up inviting him for a sleepover to chill and have some fun. So there he was: at Nash’s doorstep, wearing one of his favorite white t-shirts, a pair of dark skinny jeans, a cool hat, white ankle socks and he was rocking his red converse.

         Nash opened the door to greet his friend, a broad smile on his face. He himself was dressed more casually. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He had his black vans on and his long white socks were pulled over his sweatpants. He looked Cameron up and down.

         – Hey man, you sure look good for someone who just got dumped!

         Nash’s smile had transformed itself into a mischievous grin but Cameron seemed rather annoyed at his friend.

         – Nash, man…

         -Haha, sorry! Couldn’t resist. Hey come on in!

         With the short exchange Nash invited Cameron inside and as the other boy went to hang on the couch Nash headed for the kitchen, his mischievous grin returning to his face. Meanwhile Cameron settled on the couch and took a look around. Typical Nash: everything was one big mess. There was underwear scattered all around the floor of the living room. Various pieces of clothing were laying about: pants, shirts, a few hats. In one of the corners of the room stood a pile of dirty socks, most of which were supposed to be white but were currently more of a dirty gray. Even from the couch Cameron could pick up the smell coming out of the pile. Nash had always had smelly feet and had the bad habit of wearing the same socks for days before finally changing them. Now that he had spent a few minutes in the living room the smell was starting to make him feel a little dizzy. His contemplation of his friend’s untidy apartment was however interrupted by Nash’s voice coming from the kitchen.

         – Hey Cam! What’d’ya want to drink?

         – Do you have like, soda?

         – Yeah, I gotcha!

         – Thanks Man!

         “Perfect!” Nash thought to himself. Soda was easy to dissolve stuff into. He took a can from the fridge and cracked it open. He then proceeded to slip two small pills inside. One was white and was going to help his friend… relax. The other one, well… Nash couldn’t help but grin thinking about it. He got a second soda from the fridge, this one for himself and cracked it open as well. Then he walked back in the living room and handed his unsuspecting friend the spiked can. Nash stretched on the couch next to Cameron and put the TV on. He held up his soda looking at Cameron.

         – Cheers Bro!

         – Cheers Man!

         They both took a long sip of their sodas and relaxed back in the comfortable couch. “Now we wait” Nash thought to himself, his grin returning to his face. He managed to control himself however and mask it for a genuine friendly smile. He needed to stall for some fifteen minutes. He just needed to distract Cameron with a little chat while the pills he had slipped in the boy’s drink were taking effect.

         – So, eh… that bitch dumped you…

         – Yeah…

         Nash could see Cameron was feeling uncomfortable about the subject. Not that it mattered. Soon he wouldn’t even care about some girl. He just had to keep him talking. Keep him distracted and sipping that delicious spiked soda. He was so lost in his own mischievous thoughts he was startled when Cameron spoke up, a silly smile on his face.

         – Hey Nash… You know, your place really stinks. You really need to clean it up. Especially that pile of dirty socks! Man! I can feel the stench from here.

         – Haha, yeah, I guess you’re right!

         About ten minutes later and a lot of awkward talking Nash noticed his friend was starting to act a little different. His movements were getting slow and his gaze was drifting around the room. Nash was just about to open his mouth when Cameron looked at him with tired eyes.

         – Man…I feel a little… weird… sleepy…

         Nash was delighted. He looked at his vulnerable, drugged friend, his mischievous grin on full display and a look in his eyes, like a predator eyeing his defenseless pray.

         – I Spiked your soda, Cam.

         – Whaa…

         Cameron looked at him with his tired eyes. He was obviously not getting it.

         – I Slipped a roofie in your soda, Cam. A small dose, just to help you relax. It’s taking effect now. Oh… and I also slipped some viagra in there.

         Cameron didn’t know what to make of all this. He looked down at his pants and realized he was hard. He couldn’t believe his best friend would drug him up. He had a hard time concentrating but still managed to question the other boy.

         – But…Why…?

         – Simple. You don’t need that girl, man. She was just putting you down. Don’t Worry, I am going to take care of you. You’ll be mine from now on.

         Cameron didn’t want to believe what his friend was saying. Why would Nash do this? He needed to leave. Now. He managed to get up from the couch and head for the door but Nash was immediately there blocking his path. He had to get out of there. His head was spinning. Maybe he could get out the window? He turned back and headed for the far side of the living room. Nash followed his best friend closely, his grin spread across his face. Cameron had no chance of escaping now. Not like this. He was moving slowly and was stumbling on every step. Nash gently placed his hands on Cameron’s shoulders and gave him a little push. He didn’t need more. The boy struggled to keep his balance, failing miserably, and fell face first… right into the pile of dirty socks that lay on the floor. This close up the stench was unbearable. Cameron tried to hold his breath and pushed with his hands against the floor, trying to get up. But before he could do anything Nash was already on top of him, pinning him down.

         – It’s ok! Just relax now, Cam, breathe in deeply. You may not like it at first but I promise you, you’ll soon be enjoying it. You can’t fight it, man, just let go.

         All Cameron could manage at this point was a low moan of disapproval, although that was not going to stop his friend. He was holding his breath for now but he knew he had to breathe at some point. And soon. And the drugs Nash had spiked his drink with were not helping at all. After just a few seconds he couldn’t hold back any more. He inhaled sharply, his nostrils filling up to the brim with the scent of Nash’s dirty socks. The dizziness he had felt earlier was nothing compared to what he was feeling now. In the shock caused by the stench Cameron took another deep breath before he could stop himself. The smell was so powerful. He felt weak and vulnerable. It was getting to his brain. Or was it the drugs? He didn’t know. He soon took a third breath. It was getting easier to breathe now. He realized the smell wasn’t as bad as he had first thought. Every next breath was easier, deeper… pleasant? Cameron couldn’t understand. Was he actually enjoying this? His Viagra fueled erection was now forcing him to shamelessly hump the floor, all to Nash’s amusement. The boy teased him.

         – Good Boy, Cam. You’re such a good boy laying down and sniffing your bestfriend’s socks obediently. You’re doing great, bro. And now it’s time you went to bed for the moment. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and you’ll need some sleep.

         With that Nash took one of the socks from the pile and gently pressed it against Cameron’s lips. The other boy gave out a low moan of defiance and held his lips shut. So he was still strong enough to resist?Well, Nash knew how to take care of that. He held one hand over his best friend’s mouth and with the other he pressed the gray, drenched in foot sweat sock against Cameron’s nose. That Cameron could no longer resist. He had already started to get hooked on the powerful, manly scent of Nash’s feet and soon enough he was avidly breathing in the sweat, losing himself to it. Nash held the sock in place for another minute insuring his friend would behave and then moved the sock back to Cameron’s lips.

         – Come on bro, open up. Be a good boy and let your best friend take care of you.

         This time the drugged up boy obediently parted his lips letting Nash gently insert the sock in his mouth. He had to hold Cameron’s mouth shut for a few second while the boy instinctively tried to spill the sock out as the taste of it hit him. His eyes opened wide as the first drops of Nash’s foot sweat dissolved into his saliva but soon his eyes started to flutter as the manly taste overpowered him completely and sedated him. Instinctively he started to suck on the sock, absorbing more and more of his best friend’s essence until his eyes closed and his body relaxed into a pleasant drugged sleep. Nash had been holding his mouth shut all this time, not because he needed to but rather because it made him hard to feel in power over his defenseless victim. He then let go of the boy and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before carrying him to his bed. There he undressed Cameron and pulled the sheets over his delicious naked body. He duck taped the sock in place so his best friend could suck on it all throughout his good night’s sleep. That would get him completely hooked up on Nash’s taste. With a gentle kiss to his best friend’s forehead Nash left Cameron have some much deserved rest. He lay next to him and after giving himself a nice little hand job thinking about what had happened this evening he quickly fell asleep next to his dear best friend, his and only his.

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

  • Coaching Me

    NOTE: Everyone depicted in this story is understood to be 18 years old (or older). The coach’s reference to someone as “boy” or “little” is a demarcation of an age difference, not an indication they are under-age for the activities engaged in. Thank you and enjoy – comments welcome!

    Coach Anderson did not fuck around. When he came into the pool area, the team was supposed to be on our marks and ready for warm ups. He blew the whistle once, we were in the water, doing laps. The next time he blew it, we were finished for the day. Monday, things were the same as always. Wednesday, he came in yelling at us and we were forced to do extra laps. Friday afternoon, after warm-ups and practice laps, he let us go ahead of time before heading into his office and slamming the door. Everyone else took advantage of this and left, some of them skipping their showers. Me, I took advantage of the alone-time and spent an extra twenty minutes in the shower. When I walked back into the changing room, Coach Anderson was slipping a shirt into an open locker.

    “Woods, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you gone with the others?”

    I hooked a thumb toward the showers. “Thought it would be nice to have the place to myself for once. I didn’t bring a towel with me, though. I thought everyone else would be gone.”

    With one large hand, the coach swiped at a stack of towels and threw one at me. I caught it. He was still looking at me, so I looked back. Coach David Anderson was six feet of broad muscle with a slick head, storm-blue eyes and full lips. His arms were almost the same size as his calves, with his hands being just smaller than his feet. His whole body was dusted with caramel colored hair, giving his pale skin a slight tan. Right now, without his shirt, my eyes were stuck on the deep furrow of muscle between his pecs and the thick trench of curls.

    “I thought everyone would be gone, too, but it looks like they’re not.”

    “Coach, is something bothering you?”

    His hands went to his trim hips and his eyes bore into me. “What makes you think something’s bothering me, Woods? Do I look bothered to you?”

    “No, sir. It’s not like you to yell at us like you’ve been doing.”

    “What should I do, Woods? Apologize? Kiss your ass? You gonna cry because I’ve been harder on you boys? You can Tweet about it later, it’ll give you something to whine about.”

    I began to dry off. “The speeches you give us about how we’re all supposed to be a family, looking out for each other, it doesn’t apply to you? We’re not supposed to look after you, too?”

    “What’s your name, boy?”

    “Willow, sir.”

    “Geez, were your parents hippies, Woods?”

    “No, sir. It was my great-grandfather’s name. My friends, here on the team, call me Will.”

    “Why aren’t you at home, instead of hanging out here in the locker room?”

    “Why aren’t you home, sir? You’re always out of here by four. It’s almost five.”

    “You finished with the showers, boy? I need to get cleaned up.”

    Without waiting for a an answer, he got out of his shoes and pulled his socks off. I walked over to my locker and opened it. Coach took off his sweat pants, rolled them up and stuffed them into his locker. He was wearing a bright red jockstrap, the open back showing his perfect ass and its light dusting of caramel hair, as well. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen him in it. As we were leaving, sometimes, he would do just what he was doing now, come in, strip down and use the showers when we were gone. I took out my own underwear as Coach was taking a towel from the stack.

    “You can stop staring at my ass now, Woods. For fuck’s sake, take your gay ass home.”

    I chuckled before stepping into my blue briefs and pulling them up over my hips. I dropped my sandals on the floor and pulled out my cargo shorts. My shirt was hanging at the back of the locker. Before reaching for it, I gave Coach another glance. This time, he was looking at me.

    “Why do you do it?” He asked. “Why are you always staring at me, at my ass?”

    “You’re a smart man, coach, I’m sure I don’t have to explain it to you.”

    He walked over to where I was and pushed the door to my locker closed. “What say you try? Explain to me why you can’t ever seem to take your eyes off me when I’m stripped down like this. Maybe dumb it down for me, tell me plain, Woods, why the fuck is your gay ass staring at mine?”

    “I guess because I’d like to bend you over one of these benches in here and shove my tongue so far up your fine, hairy ass, you’d taste me in your mouth. Then, when I had you all sloppy and wet, I’d love to fuck you so hard you’d beg me to stop.”

    Coach smiled. “Fag.”

    “Asshole,” I smiled back.

    He ruffled my hair. “Look, I appreciate you asking after me, but I’m all right. There’s no need for you to worry about me. Things are just rocky at my place, right now.”

    “Can I help?”

    “Just you asking if you can helps a lot. Now, get dressed and get out before I take you up on your offer. My ass could use some hot tongue and dick.”

    “The offer’s always open.”

    He turned back toward the shower and I finished getting dressed. I heard the water come on and the sound of it being deflected from hitting the floor. Stepping into my shoes, I opened my locker and took my shirt from the back. Something strange was bothering the coach. He was never so agitated and he always joked back when I said things about doing gay stuff to him. He didn’t do that, this time. It made me wonder what could be rocky at his place and why it would be so rocky he would bring whatever it was back to the pool, with us. None of us knew a lot about his home life so it was hard to say. This was what I was thinking about when I started walking toward the door. I glanced over, into the open showers, thinking I’d give coach a final wave. I stopped in my tracks.

    Coach was standing arm’s length from the wall, one hand bracing his huge form. His other hand was wedged in between the two slabs of his ass. He was sliding two thick fingers in and out of his asshole! Water ran all over his body, steam rising off of him. I watched for a few minutes as he ministered to himself, fingering his hole without a thought for anyone but himself. His right leg was out in an almost straight line, balancing himself, his left one bent at the knee. From his crotch, an impressive piece of sweet meat jutted out in front of him. His body shielded the water from his front so I knew the silvery discharge coming from the head was pure coach-cum!

    I took a step toward the mouth of the open shower room and watched with amazement how easy Coach’s fingers slid into his hole. Both of them met with no hesitation, they just slid right in. His body responded in every way, too. His chest flexed, his stomach tightened, even his nipples stood out from his chest, two proud points of passion for what he was doing to himself. When he slid his fingers all the way this next time, he turned his head toward me.

    “I don’t need any help, Woods…you’re free to go.”

    “Right…” I looked at the door, then back at him.

    “You wanna watch, Woods?” Coach eased his fingers back out. “That why you’re skulking about, hanging around, thinking you and me could get some nasty player-coach fantasy going on?”

    When I didn’t say anything, at first, he straightened his body and stood up, his hand shutting off the shower. Water ran off his massive body in streams, plastering his hair to his skin. He took a few steps closer to me, his feet slapping the tile.

    “I don’t swing your way, gay-boy.”

    “Right,” I repeated. “No problem.”

    “What is it about me that gets you off the most, Willow?”

    “Masculinity, sir. I love a hot, hairy man who looks like what I think a man should. You’re not like me, at all, and I think it’s hot.”

    Coach walked out of the open shower room and over to one of the benches. “You watch porn?”

    “Yeah.”

    His hand slid down the slope of his stomach under his balls. He hefted his dick up, slinging water all over the floor. Angling his body toward me, he gave his balls another tug and his dick slung what I knew to be pre-cum after the water. Under a thick caramel-colored mustache, his lips parted and his tongue slipped out  to lick the top one. His other hand tugged on one of his hard nipples. I swallowed hard as he tugged his balls again, making his cock dance for me.

    “Tell me something, what turns your crank about watching other men?”

    Without waiting for me to answer, he wrapped his hand around his cock and started stroking himself. He worked his fingers in long, easy strokes from head to base and back. At the head, he swiped his thumb through the cum without releasing himself. Using it for lube, he continued stroking. His other hand tugged his nipple so hard, even he sucked in air through clenched teeth at the spike of pain.

    “The fact what they’re doing feels good to them,” I answered, almost forgetting he’d asked. “Like what you’re doing, right now. Feels good, huh?”

    “Fucking amazing,” Coach said. “When I’m at home, I ride a fat black dildo while I’m jerking my cock. Damn, but I love having something jammed up my hole while I’m stroking! I even have some of those suction things on both my nipples, because, goddamn, does it feel good when I take them off.”

    I was incredulous as Coach continued stroking his cock. He held it up so I could see the thick vein snaking along its length. His thumb brought more clear liquid onto the shaft.

    “Gay boys aren’t the only ones who know what makes their bodies feel good. They just think they are. It’s almost like nobody but them ever had alone time to figure that shit out.” Coach looks up at me. “I figured it out when I was ten. I used a cucumber. I slid that bitch so far up my hole, I thought I could taste it – and it got my little dick so hard! I pushed it in and out of myself a few times and came like a rocket! Ever since then, whatever I could find, I pushed it up my ass!”

    Again, I swallowed. I couldn’t think of anything to say. Coach continued to stroke his cock in long, easy motions. His other hand came down and he double-handed it a few times. More clear cum leaked from the head and he spread it over himself.

    “My wife is banging another guy,” the man said, not missing a stroke. “Smaller mind, smaller salary, smaller dick, so I don’t know what she sees in him. The bitch told me this on Monday. Wednesday, I filed a restraining order against her…so she had to get her shit out of my house. This morning…just after I rode my fat black friend and blew my morning load, I went to my lawyer’s office…and filed for divorce. Then, I had to come here and deal with you little shits.”

    Both of his hands began working his cock harder and faster. The head swelled. His balls drew up around his thighs, tight and firm. His face registered his enjoyment of what was going on.

    “I thought…after you little fucks were gone…I could have a hot shower…finger my hole…and blow out another load before having to go home to that whore who shares my last name.”

    He spread his legs, letting his balls hang. His cock swelled even bigger, the head expanding. Every muscle in the man’s body expanded! His chest swelled. Both nipples stood out at once. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was almost like the Sexual Hulk or something! His mouth opened in a long, deep growl – not a moan or grown – but a growl! His teeth were snapped together, his eyes narrowed. He gave his massive cock another good two strokes – then let go of it. Without him touching it, the thing slapped hard against his stomach once, then began erupting! He wagged his hips from side to side, slinging his spurting cum all over like a firehose! Fuck! Cum was flying everywhere as he continued growling. Both hands tugged at his nipples, pulling them until his growls became deeper, more guttural. He bent at the knees once, then straightened, bucking out his hips so his last hard shot of cum went further than the first. It was amazing! Fuck…but it was amazing!

    “Goddamn, that was good!” Coach swore, still slinging cum. “You like it, gay-boy?”

    “Yes, sir. It was hot!”

    “You’re damned right it was,” the man stepped back, toward his locker. “Sorry you didn’t get to swallow down any of my cock-spit but, like I said, I don’t swing in your direction. Nothing wrong with giving you a show, though.” He opened his locker and fumbled with his sweat pants. “You got a boyfriend, Willow?”

    “No, sir.” I told him the truth.

    He came over to me and handed me a business card. “I really don’t swing your way, kid, but my brother does. The son-of-a-bitch is one sweet soul and one hell of an artist. Go by his place, take a look at his work. Don’t be a creeper, but say hello and see if there are some sparks.”

    I took the card. “Why…would you do this, sir?”

    One of his massive hands came down on my shoulder. “I see the way you’re always hanging behind, the way you’re trailing after me. You’re one hell of a swimmer, kid, but you’re lonesome as fuck and it’s starting to affect your stroke. Go meet my brother, strike up a conversation. See what happens. If you like him, cool. If you don’t, cool – but you’ll have tried. All we can do is try, right?”

    Turning the card over in my hands, I nod. “I can try, sir. Thank you, sir.”

    “Good, now get your gay-ass out of here before I get hard again and change my mind about swinging it in your direction!” 

    “Okay,” I chuckle. “Although I wouldn’t mind–“

    “Go, gay-boy! Find one of your own kind.”

    With a playful push, I go toward the door of the locker room. I slip the card into my pocket and pull my shirt on. As I go out, into the coming evening, I hear the water come on again. Coach begins to moan and I’m sure I know why. This might not have ended the way I thought, and I might not click with his brother, but Coach sure did give me a hot set of visuals to keep my pervy little mind going for some time. I wouldn’t be without jerk-off material for some time!

                                                                                    –END–

  • Western Journeys

    Was the West lonely, or was it just Chris? Chris always thought the West was lonely, or at least the West at the edge of his condo. His building was the last building for miles, his complex a brand new development at the edge of a suburb of a suburb of Mesa, itself a suburb of Phoenix. His room was on the fourth floor, and faced out into the vast nothing. It was almost seemed comically out of place when he thought of it – mountains, then desert plains and scrub vegetation for miles until a random, four story building pops up. And he’s there, just staring out the window, feeling either the loneliness of the West, or his own. 

    Alt called from the other room: “You coming for dinner?”

    “Yeah, I’ll be right there!” A faux-chipper tone. Chris didn’t move. 

    Three minutes elapsed. “What the fuck, babe?” Alton asked in a sing-song voice. When he got annoyed his tone shifted from high to low and back again, as though he were angry, but also amused at feeling anger. Alt’s feelings were like that – there was never one single emotion, there were many jumbled in there, amplifying and criticizing and satirizing the others. 

    He came in the bedroom and saw Chris, staring out the window at the misshapen peaks in the distance. Chris stared when he was bored, but also when he was interested, when he was focused, when he was unfocused. He stared like an observer, a naif from another planet taking in the customs and norms, the interactions, the feelings of others. He stared so much that he’d blink in odd bursts, a flutter of eyelash when his eyes got dry. Alt didn’t mind it most of the time, Chris’ eyes were a grey-blue-green that were unique and fascinating, multilayered, and he loved looking into them when Chris just stared. But sometimes it felt like Chris couldn’t engage, that Alt was trying to rope Chris into sharing something, a part of his soul with Alt, but Chris couldn’t help but just observe. 

    Chris was roused from his staring, and made to get up quickly when he saw Alt come through the door. “Sorry, it’s just–”

    “It’s fine.” Exasperation layered on top of sincerity on top of affection, a dash of sass thrown in for good measure. As they walked into the kitchen he continued, trying to engage: “sometimes I catch myself staring that way, too. So… empty.”

    It was no use, Chris had flipped the switch. Suddenly goofy, he replied, “no, it’s not that. I just stared at the sun too long, and now I’m blind!” and mimed blindness. It was the fact that Chris knew this silliness was hokey and straight-up weird, but embraced it with such brio, that had first won Alt’s heart. He gave a few short chuckles, but pointedly threw in a little melancholy, just to let Chris know that he hadn’t missed his moody vibe, his forlorn stare through the window. 

    “Damn, babe – smells delicious!” As he said this, Chris wondered if he were overdoing the enthusiasm. 

    It was, though, delicious. Alt was from a big Italian-American family, and his gnocchi Gorgonzola was to die for. A three cheese blend, fresh shrimp (or, as fresh as shrimp can be when they’re from a supermarket in Arizona), and a perfect herb concoction – Alt hated cooking, but he was good when he tried. Paired with strawberries, garlic bread, and an almost outrageous amount of wine, it was as good as date night at home can get. 

    The conversation was good, too. Something in the fading summer light brought out the sarcasm in the both of them, as though they needed to cut the valley’s preternatural energy down to size with their own semi-witty barbs. 

    Chris had, by this point, adopted a fake Midwest soccer-mom accent: “It’s just, you know, I’d appreciate it if you could take your [stage whisper] homosexuality out of the parking lot, you know?” It was not a good impression at all, but Alt somehow felt it exactly captured Kathy, their downstairs neighbor, and the way she always seemed to have some weird criticism for the two of them. Far more coded than Chris’ act, sure, but she definitely wasn’t an ally. “I mean, what would Brayden think if he saw you with your Prius? Do you all drive Priuses? Is that… a thing of some sort?” Alt burst out laughing – that was exactly her style: assume that anything the two of them did was some sort of sinister gay stereotype. 

    Chris was funny. He was cute enough, and he was smart enough, but his humor was the real selling point. He performed stand-up as a hobby, twice a month or so, and was pretty good. But being even really good at stand-up doesn’t pay the bills, so he was also a paralegal. Alt was more serious, more intellectual, more everything, really. Alt was everything Chris had wanted to be – the good looking, charming, intensely intelligent lawyer – but he hadn’t made the grade, hadn’t put in the work.

    The conversation continued to meander – to politics, to high school, to work – until it got to their shared history. Chris had been the nervous new guy, and had always been uncoordinated at best, downright klutzy at worst. Being around Alt had made it worse, since how could he not become more nervous, klutzier when talking to the 6’2’’, lean, muscular, star lawyer Alton, whose suits were always impeccably tailored, whose face had an earned confidence, whose stride was purposeful and quick? So quite unintentionally, by the end of their first conversation Chris had tripped and gotten coffee all over Alt’s dress shirt. 

    They laughed and reminisced, except that hadn’t been what had happened. Chris remembered it differently. He remembered that the idea just popped into his head to fake a trip-and-fall and stain Alt’s clothes – maybe it was jealousy, or some strange lust, or his need to make everything a joke and make a clown of himself that led him to do it, or something else entirely, but it was purposeful. Spur of the moment, but purposeful. 

    He didn’t know why he sometimes did these things, but he did. People generally accepted the reasons he came up with as to why he did them, because the other option – that he randomly decided to cough and hit Merida’s shoulder with his head, that he for no apparent reason kicked and shattered a flower pot, that he purposefully spilled coffee – seemed ludicrous. They seemed ludicrous to Chris, too, but he did them anyway, not entirely knowing why. 

    He didn’t tell Alt this part of the story, instead just observing the way Alt reacted to it, laughing with him but watching him closely. 

    They had gotten back to talking about the second part of their meet-cute. Chris had tried to help Alt get the coffee out from his shirt and ended up getting heated in the men’s room, Alt’s strong frame lifting Chris’ tall, thin body up so he carried Chris onto his dick, a quick and dirty hookup that surprised them both. As they recalled the story they got closer themselves, until they were kissing. Alt’s lips moved across Chris’ neck, then his left shoulder, kissing along the way. 

    Soon they were tearing off each others’ clothes, Chris pushed Alt back into his seat and kissed the inside of his thighs, the area under his belly-button, the top of his calves, until his mouth flicked the side of Alt’s slowly rising cock. Alt moaned and sighed, and when Chris started sucking in earnest, pushed Chris’ head into his crotch so that his whole dick was enveloped in Chris’ warm, soft mouth. 

    They both knew what the other liked, and Alt made to get the lube quickly. After a thorough application, he hoisted Chris onto his dick in one quick motion, and both were moaning. Chris could feel the warm penis, filling a hole inside of him, brushing up against the side of his prostate, causing him to squirm a little and breath quickly and tell himself, over and over, stay in the moment. Don’t overthink this. 

    Alt made his way to the bed, carrying Chris in his muscular arms. Soon Chris was on top, riding, his half-erect cock slapping Alt’s stomach. Stay in the moment, stay in the moment he thought. You’re in love. You’re so in love, you’re only love. You want to be just the feeling of love, the feeling of the warm dick inside of you, the feeling of Alt and Alt alone. You can be that feeling. 

    You love him, you love him, you feel things, you feel. You love him, you can feel love. You love him. You love him. Faster, faster, you love him, you love him, faster, faster. “I love you so fucking much” he grunted to Alt. 

    His pulse was rising. If you love Alt, then why do you need to tell yourself you do? Why can’t you feel? Why can’t you be in the moment, in this moment, this objectively great moment, with him? His pulse quickened, and he could feel himself bite compulsively on his cheek. You love him, faster, faster, you love him, you love him. 

    His dick had gone soft, he had an intensity in his eyes Alt hadn’t seen before, he was chewing the inside of his mouth. “Are you alright?” Alt asked, hoping Chris was finally engaged, so lost in the moment he couldn’t stop. Alt was close, so close to release, but he couldn’t help but worry if there were something wrong. Then, suddenly, Alt came, exploding inside of Chris. Though he was temporarily rendered speechless, his concern didn’t leave. 

    The concern, the love. It was all too much for Chris. He got off Alt’s dick and started apologizing. “Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry” – holding back tears. He was putting on pants, grabbing a shirt, his wallet, keys. Alt was only just regaining his wits, and confused as to what Chris was doing. 

    “What the fuck are you doing?” It might’ve been sing song, if Alt hadn’t just come and weren’t so confused. Instead it had more anger, more tenderness, less sarcasm than usual to it. 

    “I’m so sorry, I’m not… I can’t…” And Chris was out the door, racing to his lime green Prius. By the time Alt had enough sense to follow, to run after him, Chris was already out of sight, leaving everything behind, driving toward the mountains he could see from the window. 

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  • Killer Silence

    I tried hard to sleep, but could not succeed. Both the things were disturbing, his negligence and his unhappiness. I had also got accustomed to his pampering and embracing me during sleep for a long time now. It gave me a sense of love, care, safety and security, all in one. Now, all of a sudden, his bad mood was raising my tension level as I was threatened of loosing such a good and caring friend.

    I slowly turned towards him, and sneak-peeked on his face to see if he was asleep. He was lying in same pose with his face opposite to me. He was awake. Noticing me above his face, he quickly cleaned the tears rolling out of his eyes. What the fu.k? He was crying, hiding from me. Definitely, I must be somehow involved in this. I was right in guessing, it was not just a health issue.

    I got closer to him, and hugged him tightly from back. He did not react. But he moved his head away from me. I grabbed his chest, close to his arm-pits from my left hand (through which I was embracing him), to prevent him from escaping me, and slowly pulled him towards me. Our bodies were again in touch with each-other. I kissed him gently on his neck and then on shoulder as he was still facing the opposite direction. He still did not respond to my kisses.

    I forced him to turn flat from the side pose, to which he initially resisted a bit but when I continued doing that he finally gave up. I got on top of him and hugged him tightly in my arms, and kept my head on his chest. I closed my eyes and kept listening to his heart beats. After a few moments, I felt his hand on my face. He slowly started pampering me like we do to kids. This gave a sign of relief to my restless heart. His heart-beats were also getting calmer and soothing. We kept hugging like this for a while.

    I wasn’t sure what the matter was, but I was now sure, that somehow I made him cry. It was I who made such a loving, caring and darling person cry who had always been trying his best to keep me happy. The person who had always given preferences to my wishes, my choices, my needs, over and above his personal interests and needs. I had always been cruel to him and quite selfish too in this regard, and always over-looked his needs and mis-understood his feelings for me. All previous incidents when I had done injustice to him started floating in my mind. My eyes got watery in grief and I knew that I was again guilty somewhere, somehow.

    “I’ m sorry“, automatically came directly from bottom of my heart, lying in same pose. There was no response from him, except that he continued pampering my head with his left hand.

    He was still maintaining that silence. Even I did not want to say anything. I just wanted to get lost in that soothing and calming silence. I understood now that I made him cry, but what I did not know was what exactly my fault was. It was important for me to understand it and know it to avoid repeating it in future. I was about to ask it, but suddenly growling sounds coming from my stomach broke the silence between us.  He also noticed it, and asked, “Why have you not taken dinner yet?“

    “I was not feeling hungry either“, I replied, embracing him even tighter. I felt slight vibrations on his belly, he was laughing on my reply. He knew we take dinner together always, barring a few exceptional cases. He knew I was lying. I heard his voice again, “Okay! I’m feeling a bit hungry now. Let’s have something to eat”.  His voice was again having that caring and loving touch. I kissed on his chest and got up and held his hand in my hand to take him with me.

    After we finished our dinner, he said, “You should not lie, you are not good at it.” I was surprized to hear that, and was thinking, which lie from me might have upset him and caused him tears tonight? I usually refrain myself from all sort of lies, so I was curious to know, and asked him, “What are you talking about? When did I lie to you?” He smiled, and said, “That…when you said you are not feeling hungry while your stomach was crying loud for the dinner.“. I replied, “Oh ! That..!! That I learned from you. Didn’t you lie too?“. He maintained silence once again. I got the feeling that he was not so “normal” yet. He probably did all this to ensure that I do not have to starve all night. He might not have forgiven me truly yet, and might still be holding on to those grudges deep inside.

    “I didn’t lie to you“, now he broke the silence.

    “Really? Tell me how..?  When did you have your dinner?“, I asked.

    He replied, “I did not say anything about dinner. All I said was that I had taken heavy snacks in office party.“

    “I don’t believe you. You always call me well in advance to inform me about any such outside dinners, don’t you?“, I was confident and smiling on my intelligence to successfully catch his lie.

    “I am really sorry as I could not inform you today. I was out of my mind.. kind of. But it is true that I had taken heavy snacks just a few hours back“, He replied. His reply made me wonder what could have caused him such a great setback so much so that he was “out of mind“, and forgot about informing me. I knew, he would not lie to me.

    I was thinking all this when he continued, “I was in same food-court with my colleagues, where you two were enjoying at 5 PM.” He paused for a moment, and then continued, “BTW, I must agree, she is really a pretty girl. She looks better than her photo.” His voice was again diminishing, and trembling, probably he was getting emotional.

    I recalled, I was in XXXXX Food Court at that time, with Divyangana, a colleague and a very good friend of mine. We developed a good understanding and our wavelengths match perfectly. I told him, “Oh ! That !!! She was Divyangana, one of my colleagues. It was her sister’s birthday this Sunday, so she took me out for a birthday treat. ” I paused for a moment, and then asked him, “If you were there, why didn’t you join us? We all would have had great fun together.“

    The ice started melting now. He opened his mind, and said, “Firstly, it was a private party for two of you and I was not invited. Anyways, I did not want to interrupt the love-birds (He emphasized the word love-birds and stretched it unusually). I was disappointed that you had to hide your love and life from me, all because of my feelings for you.“

    “Was this the only thing upsetting your mood?“, I asked him, looking into his eyes.

    He lowered his eyes but did not say anything. There was again a deep killer silence in between us for sometime. I realized later that this silence could be deadly dangerous to a nourishing relationship at times. It gives a chance to grow misunderstandings. It also may lead to assumption of “acceptance” when there is no response and some answer is expected.

    After some time, he uttered, “No, actually not. I felt insecure that I might loose you forever now. I started feeling anxious, low and as a loser when I saw you two together, smiling and enjoying a lot.” He paused for a while, and then continued,  “My fear of loosing you forever, which might happen  probably after 9-10 months, was turning into reality right in front of my eyes today. I found myself all alone, having a lonely life and that’s why I was so scared and depressed. But I know, I don’t have a right to snatch your share of happiness from you. I should not be so selfish.“

    I kept hearing all silently. I was glad that he opened up and shared his true concerns with me. That’s the true power of a relationship, “The Trust“. When you don’t have any fears or hesitations. After he finished, I did, what I was longing to do for a long time since he entered the room. I kissed him on his lips, passionately and told him, “You are my stupid, jealous, naughty baby. You love me, but don’t trust me. No one can give me even fraction of love that you offered me. There is nothing in my life to hide from you.“

    Later, this whole incident gave me a warning too. Why is this lack of trust between us?

    I had other questions also running in my mind, “Don’t I have any right to enjoy my life with my colleagues, my friends or anyone for that matter? Don’t I deserve a little private moments?”

    And the more glooming question that needs immediate solution is “How to solve these issues with insecurity, un-trust, and privacy?”

  • A twink’s basement room

    When a short fat woman answers the door, my heart jumps into my throat. The address, fifteen, is right there in front of me. I had checked it six times already.

    “Sorry, is this 51 Elviage Road?” I stutter, staring at the house number. “I’m sorry, I must be in the wrong place.” Before she can answer, I flee, dashing down the walkway back to my car.

    As I’m fumbling with my keys, I look up and see a young man slowly walking toward me in a hoodie, hands stuffed in his pockets. Shit, that’s him. I turn around and greet him. “Hey man, sorry, I’m not used to other people being around when… uh,”

    “That’s just my sister,” he tells me. “You wanna come in?”

    She’s busy in the kitchen now, dumping bricks of Mr. Noodle into a pot, and she pays no attention to us as we go into the basement. Downstairs is partially finished. Piles of boxes lean against the rafters, barely covering the pink insulation in the walls. He opens a door and we enter his room. Somehow, a bed and a desk have been stuffed into this tiny space. A plastic bong, now dried and tarnished with brown scum, sits on his desk amongst some old dishes.

    He jumps up on the bed and casually lays back. “So you really wanna suck my dick?” he asks.

    “Yeah I do.”

    “OK then.” He stretches his arms up and lifts off the hoodie, showing me his skinny twink chest. Then he kicks his track pants off onto the floor and he’s nude.

    I look into his eyes, lean down and flick my tongue at his flaccid dick. Not getting a reaction, I suck the whole thing into my mouth, rolling and squeezing it. He throws his arms out to the side, squirms, and melts into the pillow as I feel him begin to stiffen.

    The ceiling creaks as footsteps pound through the house. What does she think we’re doing down here? I wonder.

    Minutes pass. He seems to be enjoying it, but it’s taking too long even for my well practised jaw. I hide it as long as I can, then I slip off with a slurp.

    “Is there anything I can do differently?” I ask.

    He gazes down at me, eyes narrow, hands behind his head and considers it. “Can I fuck your face?” he asks. He suddenly looks sheepish. “It’s okay if not.”

    “Sure, that could be fun,” I tell him, as I rub my sore jaw with one hand. It’d give me a break at least. We switch places. I lay on the pillow, head up against the wall, and I strip off my own clothes. I catch a glimpse of his ass before he turns around. It’s beautiful and despite myself I feel blood rushing into my penis. Maybe I’m a top. How do you decide these things, anyway?

    And then he crouches down, face and hands against the wall like spiderman, and jabs his penis into my cheek. I open up and after a few more pokes he manages to get it in. 

    I lay back, eyes wide open, drinking in the compelling sight above me. The bed squeaks and moves further from the wall with each thrust. I feel his heat coming off his body, and stare into his taught belly. I can see his ribs, and two tiny red zits.

    I feel my own passion coming alive. I haven’t even touched my penis, but now it’s laying over my belly button like a toppled tree. I grab it and hold it in the air, pointing at the ceiling. I feel like I could burst at any moment. I close my mouth around him and suck, and hear the squishes, sounding like wet whale kisses as he fucks my face hole.

    I can see the wiry hairs under his arms, and his scent wafts down to me, and I get a very odd feeling. I feel wetness on my chest and suddenly realize with excitement that hot syrupy globs are gushing out of me unbidden. I’m cumming hands-free! I can’t see anything except his thrusting belly. He doesn’t stop, but I’m sure some must have landed on his back. I run my hand over my abs, massaging the warm slickness into my skin.

    A toilet flushes upstairs, and pipes gurgle around us. The hair on my belly is already drying and clumping together he finally pauses, pulls out, and squats down over my chest.

    “Sorry guy, I don’t know what’s wrong,”

    “That’s ok. Take your time.”

    He starts to jerk off, I feel his balls slapping against my chest. I raise my knees up to his back, and he leans on them, bum pressed against my drying cum. His eyes are closed, concentrating on some fleeting image inside his head. What’s he thinking, I wonder. Who is he fucking? Maybe he’s on campus. Maybe he is being fucked by his whole class. Or his prof. Or all of them at the same time. Maybe they’re taking turns fucking his ass and mouth.

    It’s taking so long, I have to giggle. “At least I know I had no chance.”

    “Yeah, ha,” he says, and his hands are a blur now, as he tries desperately to cum. The twerp probably jacked off before I got here or something. These young guys only think they can do anything, and be ready to go any time, but blowjobs are a different thing entirely. They’re a fucking art form, and I hate it when they’re wasted. 

    “OK I’m gonna cum now,” he says minutes later. He lifts off, some of my sticky chest hair still attached to his butt, and aims his cannon over my mouth. He’s still jerking furiously, knuckles hitting my chin, when a single jet of watery bitterness sprays onto my tastebuds. Exhausted, he slumps against the wall, while I lick my meagre reward from his hot, red, beaten penis.

    I wriggle out, locate my clothes and slip them on quickly. I should wash up, but I don’t trust his bathroom to be clean enough to do so. I’m dry already anyway.

    He’s sprawled out on the bed, heaving. He manages to lift his head and drowsily mutter his thanks before he falls asleep.

    Upstairs his sister is sitting on the couch, eyes fixed on the TV, an empty pot in front of her. I don’t think she even saw me leave.

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  • In the twink’s basement again

    At least this time, he answers the door himself. The young twink has scruffy black hair, neatly trimmed but he obviously just got out of bed. It’s only 11 in the morning. 

    We were supposed to meet yesterday. I waited for his message, parked nearby in the Food Basic’s parking lot for 45 minutes before I gave up. Later he texted that he had slept in. 

    I’m giving him another chance. Something about him is irresistible. He’s inconsiderate and lives like a slob, but he’s hot as fuck, and I can’t wait to suck his dick again.

    He barely greets me, and as I crouch in the doorway to unlace my leather boots, he stands over me so I won’t run in and steal his stuff. We don’t say much because his mother’s in the kitchen a few steps away. I used grindr instead of knocking, so she doesn’t even know I’m there. She peeks out, drying a frying pan, and scolds my host for some misdemeanour another language. When she sees me she smiles in polite surprise.

    “Good morning,” I said, beaming. “Strange weather lately, eh?” Don’t mind me. I’ll just be downstairs having sex with your son. Might be a while!

    Last time I nearly bolted when his sister answered the door. Today I take it in stride. Maybe they know and maybe they don’t. Guys who are out with their families do things that would have shocked me just a few months ago. Everybody’s different. Especially this guy.

    Still, I head for the door to the basement in two giant steps, eager to get away from his politely suspicious clan.

    The bottom of the stairs is covered in heaps of clothes, vomited out by an old dryer.

    “Ah, I see it’s laundry day.” I try to make conversation.

    “Yeah, “ he replies. His mom shouts something after us.

    He turns and hollers back up the stairs. “No, everything is in there, my pants are clean already!”

    We navigate our way through the mess to his room, the only part of the basement that is clean. By clean, I mean free from shit you can trip over, not clean in the sense that the surfaces have been wiped in the past five years.

    His room is dimly lit by a lamp on the shelf. Dark blue walls, except for a crudely painted graffiti figure. It watches over the desk where a very large bong rests. The plastic tubes in the contraption are stained brown from use and hard water.

    He notices me staring at it. “Want some?” He asks.

    I chuckle, “Nah, I tried weed before but it just makes me quiet.“

    “Oh you’re one of those.”

    The bong quivers and I hear someone bounding down the stairs, singing.  I back into the corner, pressed against the wall like I’m furniture. Another young guy bounds into the room. Hot. A younger brother? Maybe a boarder?

    He doesn’t notice me. He grabs the bong. “Eh?” He grunts and looks at my host.

    “Take it.” he says, and the intruder leaves cradling his prize. My host closes the door after him, but it his does little to stop his loud singing. It’s not off key, but it’s nonsensical, as if he can’t remember every third word and makes them up as he goes. I wince at the noise, but my host ignores me. He’s swiping away on his silver iPhone. Suddenly the tinny sound of a top 40 song eeks out of its speakers, and the sound of the singing, bong-using boarder fades.

    Still clicking at the phone, he slips one a finger under his pants and clumsily tries to pull them down. My heart races when he reveals the top of his public bone. But his finger stops there. He’s going to need two hands to get it over his boner, but he’s engrossed in checking his messages first.

    With a lopsided grin, he finally throws the phone on the desk, runs his hands through his thick hair, and looks up at me.  But my eyes are locked on the tent in his pants.  

    “I really love you sucking my dick, “ he tells me. “Are you going to swallow again?”

    I look him in the eye. “This time,” I tell him, “I want you to try to cum right down my throat.” 

    “I’ll do it,” he agrees.

    Fat chance. I know he won’t reach, but it’ll spice it up a little. I take off my shirt for him and he steps out of his pants, nude.

    His dick is ready, slightly curved, and  rapidly emerging from its in delicious tan foreskin.  He’s his balls are closely shaved. Only a small trapezoid of artfully trimmed fuzz sits atop its base. He falls back on the bed, resting on his elbows.

    I bend down and lick his balls. The skin of his sack is smooth as plastic. I lick up and around and suck in his musky scent, slowly making my way up his mast. By the time I get there his soft pink glans is throbbing and he stares at me with a look like he got a new toy and can’t quite believe it’s real.

    But I refused to mouth it yet. I only came back for one reason. “I want you to face fuck me. Like last time.” I climb up the bed beside him, prop myself up with a pillow.

    “Ha! I love that.” He gets up and towers over me, one knee on other side. With his hand on his cock he guides it into my waiting lips. I feel it slide up against the back of my mouth. I close my mouth and suck on it lightly, tasting the delicious salty flavour of the first lick. Then his hands go to my shoulders and he starts to thrust at me. The bed strains and squeaks. But something’s different. Each time I see his belly come at me, he gets a little harder, until unexpectedly, he slides past my tonsils and cuts off my breath. Fuck, I wasn’t expecting this. Last time he couldn’t even reach.

    His body is hot now, sweaty, and as I begin to smell the scent wafting down from his armpits, my cock is raging hard in my pants. But too soon, he stops and slowly lowers his butt onto the bed beside me.

    “Holy fuck you got bigger,” I tell him in amazement.

    “Oh, really? Thanks.” He props his cock up and flexes, examining it proudly. Then he aims it at me, waiting.

    I prepare for a long haul. Last time it took over half an hour and I got tired. I was hoping to have him do the work. I’m not looking forward to getting a sore neck again. I take a deep breath, lie between his legs, and wrap my mouth around his dick.

    I give him everything. I suck in a breath and plunge down to his bone, come back up, and suck as I massage his cock with my tongue. Maybe he’ll only take twenty minutes this time.

    A few seconds later he grabs my shoulders. I stop and suddenly he’s grunting and thrusting upwards frantically on his own. His twink butt grinds into the bed as he twists himself up into my face. When I try to get a quick breath, the fucker jams himself so far down my throat that I once again my airway’s cut off. I wait helplessly as he tenses up, gives one last quick jerk, and explodes. I can only stare at the base, cross-eyed, as it rhythmically pulses, literally pumping out his load. I stop counting after six. I can’t taste a thing. I can only imagine each spurt splashing against the back of my throat, oozing down on its own time.

    When he’s done, I keep sucking, trying to eek out what remains of his delicious flavour, while he sits up, watching and grinning at me. But I’ve overstayed my welcome. He’s done with me now, and itching to get back to his phone, or his bong, or whatever else he does, so I reluctantly release his member.

    “We definitely have to do this again,” he tells me, nose down in his iPhone.

    “For sure.” I know I’m being used and I love it.

    When we’re finally dressed, he sees me out so I won’t take his stuff.

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

  • Coach’s Bitch

    The leader had brought me into a dark room, alone with him.

    “I want you to do something for me.” He said in a deep, masculine voice. He had clean my face and dress up in an orange jumpsuit and pushed me into the prison before locking the door behind me. I knew what he wanted: for me to get prison raped while he watched from the cameras. And I wanted that as well. I knew the other guards would be watching from their cameras as well. He had given my a tiny, waterproof earpiece so they could tell me what to do from the inside.

    Head for the showers. Right now, the biggest prisoner is in there alone. He told me through the earpiece. He guided me towards the showers and  he said, He’s the head gang master of this prison and they call him “El Diablo.” You know what to do. I made my way towards the shower that was on. My heart was racing in my chest.

    I rounded the corner and my breath caught in my chest. El Diablo was the biggest man I’d ever seen. He was bigger than Coach and all his buddies. This man was truly a mountain. His chocolate skin made my mouth water and I could see a flaccid cock that was the size of Coach’s hard. I swallowed my anxiousness and stepped towards him.

    He looked up and a dark smile crossed his face. Strip and turn on the shower next to his. He told me. I did as he said and began washing my body. El Diablo wasn’t hiding his glances in my direction. I turned my body so that my ass was facing him. “Aww shit.” I heard his deep, masculine voice say. Suddenly, massive, thick, muscular arms the size of my waist wrapped around me. I was only as tall as his chest and I could feel his cock against my back.

    His cock was so big that it went from the small of my back to my shoulders. It must’ve been at least a foot and a few inches long. “Bitch, I haven’t seen an ass like yours in a long time.” He whispered into my ear. His black skin felt more like silk against me and I moaned and pushed back against his monster cock.

    Struggle so that he has to rape you. The leader told me in my ear. I didn’t really have to fake it because although I wanted him deep inside me, I also knew that it would hurt like hell and was twice the size of any cock I’d ever taken. So I struggled against the powerhouse of a man. He laughed and effortlessly slammed me against the wall, pulling my ass towards him.

    I shouted out as his cock began to enter. Slowly at first and then more rough. He thrust deep inside me, but I couldn’t feel his balls so I knew he wasn’t all the way in. He began thrusting in and out. It hurt like hell, like I expected, and I instinctively kept trying to escape. Soon I felt his massive balls against my ass and I felt him deep inside my body.

    He pumped into me again and again, without mercy. He eventually moved me, still impaled, onto the floor where he could pound into me harder. I grunted as his cock kept pushing my limits. He began to speed up and then held inside me. Hot bursts of cum fireballed through my body like fireworks. I gasped from the intensity and heat of his cum. He pulled out and his cum leaked out of my ass like a faucet, there was so much.

    He then had me get on my knees and clean his cock. He pushed his monster cock into my mouth and down my throat, making a noticeable bulge. He laughed as I struggled to breathe and take his entirety down my throat. I sucked him dry and then clean his cock for him.

    “You one fine Bitch. I’ma take you back to my cell where you’ll serve me and in return you get my protection. And no one messes with any of El Diablo’s things.” I nodded my head but a door buzzed and swung open. The leader of the guards walked out, a billy club in his hands. El Diablo sneered at him.

    “You ain’t taking my bitch. I just fucking got him!” He shouted to the guard. “You can have his ass all you’d like after I’m done with him.” The leader said in a deep, aggressive tone.

    “Fine. But I get him all to myself after that. He’s gonna be my bitch.” The leader agreed and El Diablo walked out. The guard approached me.

    “You will refer to me as ‘Master.’” He told me and I nodded my head yes. “Clean me, Bitch.” He said and stepped into the shower with me. His prison guard clothes were soaked and I began unbuttoning and peeling off his clothes. Underneath was leather straps and chaps.

    His massive cock, bigger than the other guards, pulsed underneath the shower stream. He handed me a bar of soap and I began washing him. I rubbed his muscles and every inch of his body, even his ass. Once I was finished he grabbed the soap and began soaping up my body. He pressed himself to my back and I could feel his cock against my back. I shuddered in pleasure. His skilled hands glided over my body and I pressed myself against him, moaning.

    Suddenly, something wet, cold, and hard slid into my hole. I sucked my breath in as it moved deeper inside me. “You like having my billy club sliding inside your ass, Bitch?” He asked me. I couldn’t speak so all I did was nod. I could feel him wiggling it around inside me, lighting my insides on fire. I squirmed in pleasure.

    He pulled it out and something bigger, harder, hotter, rougher, and more familiar slid into me. I gasped as his cock impaled me. His breathing grew heated and his mouth was right next to my ear. He began whispering.

    “We got this ass of yours in this jail permanently. We’re going to keep you here forever as your masters. I’m giving you up after this to El Diablo and I’m going to watch him rape you with his monster cock, hourly. Understand?” I couldn’t breathe. I was going to be stuck in this prison for my life. I’m not sure how, but somehow these guards got me in jail. But suddenly I felt better.

    I was in the good hands of my masters, El Diablo, and Coach. Peace washed over me and I pushed back against Master’s thrusts. “Oh… you want that, don’tcha?” He laughed in my ear, giving me the chills, and began fucking me mercilessly. He thrust harder and faster and with so much power that I began begging him to stop.

    He did stop, but hot cum took his place. I moaned as his hot spunk filled me up inside. I could feel his scorching cum inside my gut and I felt at peace. I collapsed from exhaustion and the leader picked me up and carried me out to the prison cells.

    I awoke to a handsome, but powerful face. His chocolate skin made me feel warm inside. “El Diablo?” I muttered, still in a groggy state. “No no no, that’s Master to you, Bitch. You my Bitch now, and I don’t care how you feeling, I’m still gonna fuck you whenever I want in exchange for safety in this hell hole.” It was then I felt him deep inside me. I shuddered at the thought of my new Master sliding into my frail, sleeping body, raping me. He began thrusting into me again, eliciting my moans.

    He grunted as his hot cum flowed into me like a broken dam. I sighed in satisfaction and noticed a small camera to the right corner in the ceiling of the cell. So the guards do watch everything we do. I smiled at the camera and gave it a thumbs up. Master pulled out of me, hot spunk leaking from my ass.

    “Why don’t we have a nice, hot, morning shower together, huh?” He asked and hoisted me from the cot. I followed him, cum oozing down my legs and dripping behind me, to the showers. He turned on a shower and I sighed as the soothing hot water rushed over my body. I felt Master’s presence behind me and his massive hands soaping my body.

    One of his meaty fingers, the size of an actual dick, slid into me and I pushed back against him, pulling him deeper inside me. He laughed.

    “Jesus you are one hot fucking slut. Goddamn you must want to sleep with everything that has a pulse! Good thing that I’ve got here a dick that’ll never grow tired.” I giggled and he slid his limp dick into my ass. I had only wiggled for a second when I felt his cock harden as though it had turned to stone. I clutched at the wall for support as Master began mercilessly prison raping me.

    I whimpered into his thrusts and he grunted at every move of my body. “Jesus fucking christ your ass is so hot.” He grunted and I shuddered as his mighty hands wrapped around my small waist, making his thrusts more aggressive and powerful and painful.

    Suddenly, hot cum was blasting inside me. “I’ve got no end to my cum supply, incase you were wondering.” He said. Master pulled out of me, cum dripping my my insides, and pushed me to my knees. Water poured over our naked and sweaty bodies as Master had me clean his cock for him. He then pulled me up and gave me a kiss on the lips. We shared his cum in my mouth and then he broke the kiss and looked at me in the eyes.

    “You sleep with one other motherfucker besides me, and I’ll drill yo ass so hard with my monster cock, you won’t be able to walk. Understand?” He said and when I nodded my head yes, our lips met again. “Now you’re going to serve me until I’m satisfied.” And I did and loved every second of it.

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

  • The guy in the shower

    Back in the early 90s I went to university in a city in the north of England. I was young, inexperienced, a bit shy – and I had a big secret – I liked cock. I’d wanked off a mate a few times back at home, but that was the extent of my sexual adventures. I’d never had a girlfriend, but knew that straight sex just didn’t appeal to me. I knew I was gay, but I wasn’t ready to share that knowledge with anyone, and most of the time I hated it and wished I could change.

    In my first year I lived in a ‘village’ of blocks of student flats. Tiny cubicles for living in, and a shared kitchen upstairs and bathroom with two private showers. Twelve other lads shared one block, and many of them became great friends. My best friends though lived a few doors away in another block, two guys on my course called Bill and Ben. We were into indie music and a bit geeky, while most of the lads in my house were into football.

    One day a few weeks into term I woke and stumbled into the bathroom to have a shower – only to find it was blocked, with water pouring across the floor. Then the other one blocked. And pretty soon university workmen were running around the block and drains were being investigated. Then by evening, we’d all been issued with notices. Three houses, containing about 30 students in total, had a problem with drains. Lots of digging needed to be done, and we would have no water for up to a week. The toilets would be fine in the evenings as they were on a separate system but no showers or sinks.

    There were two options – take a room in a hotel the university would book some miles away, or stay put and have a rent reduction as compensation. I was skint, so plumped for the rent rebate. Bill took the hotel option but Ben decided to stay. We had access to the showers used for the nearby football pitches but I thought it would be ok and I’d just have a bit of a smelly week.

    Quickly I realised how difficult it is surviving without water. Four days in I was sat with Ben in the university canteen moaning about the situation. We were fed up with eating junk food and starting to stink. Ben’s floppy brown hair looked greasy, his stubble was grown into almost a beard.

    “Last night I was really stupid” said Ben. “I was really drunk and I forgot all about it, I pissed into the sink in the room and now I can’t do anything about the smell. It’s like ten times worse than a public toilet in my room.”

    “You fucking idiot” I replied. “I know what you mean though, I’m sure some girls moved away from me in the lecture today. I am really starting to smell now.”

    “Yeah tell me about it. Bill went on and on about me smelling earlier – you know what he’s like, he really exaggerated it and made me look a right twat in front of the whole course.”

    I groaned. Being humilated by Bill would not be a great experience. “But can’t you go and use the shower at his hotel?”

    “I guess I could but he’ll just want something for it. It’s not really worth it.”

    “Well… I guess maybe we should just go and use the sports showers.”

    “I dunno… if I’m honest I’m a bit scared of the whole thing… it’s gonna be like school isn’t it?”

    “What, like open showers? I spose it might be”. I hadn’t really thought about it, I’d sort of hoped not to have to go over to the strange foreign world of the sports changing rooms.

    “You know that guy John… ginger hair, does Economics?”

    “Yeah I think so” I replied. John was a really nerdy guy with bright red hair. “Kerry told me some guys dragged him out of those showers and dumped him in the student union bar.”

    “Fucking hell” I said. “That’s mean. Poor guy”. I wondered if his pubes were as ginger as his head.

    Ben held his head in his hands. “I’ve not done the communal showers thing for years. It’ll all be sporty types fooling around. I don’t wanna end up starkers in the bar.”

    “Well maybe not if you go earlyish. They don’t do the sports stuff till later on do they? I reckon it’ll be busier in the afternoon.”

    “I guess. I do reek…”

    “Look, er, don’t take this the wrong way, but we could go together… safer maybe?”

    I felt my heart beating faster as I said the words. A flash of Ben naked would give me something to wank about for months.

    “Maybe. I’m just… just a bit hung up on being naked. It’s stupid really.”

    If I was honest I was too. Communal showering both hugely attracted me and terrified me. The image of Kevin Curtis, one of my school friends, stepping out of the communal shower, his purplish  dick swinging, flashed into my mind. I’d been transfixed: at that moment I knew more than ever that I wanted to touch it, that I wanted boys, not girls. His cock seemed oversized, much too big for his skinny teenage body. But my staring was noticed – not by Kevin, but by  another class member, Matthew Connor, who mercilessly taunted me that I was checking out cocks every single PE lesson from that moment forward.

    Once, he bent over in the changing rooms in front of me and pulled open his cheeks, revealing a very hairy arsehole. “This is what you want, ain’t it Mark, take a good look you perve. Bet he’s getting a woody!”. I angrily denied all his accusations, but he was right – I was hard as a rock. Thankfully I’d already pulled on my trousers before he put on the show. But communal showers were a place of temptation and potential embarrassment.

    Despite my misgivings, I tried to put Ben at ease. “Yeah I know what you mean. I fucking hated it at school, but we’re not going to take the piss out of each other are we? Anyway we can take it in turns if you want.”

    Ben looked a bit more relaxed. “That would probably be a bit daft. I need to just get over it. We’re both blokes, we’ve both got cocks, so what? I reckon I can do it.”

    “OK let’s do it tomorrow. 9am outside the changing rooms. We can both confront our phobias.”

    The next morning, trudging across the football field, I began to regret my bravado. I was nervous about getting naked in front of Ben. I’m a grower, not a shower, and sometimes my dick shrivels up to a tiny flaccid worm. And then on the other hand one look at Ben’s arse and I might get hard. Shit, what had I let myself in for…

    Ben came running across the field after me. “Didn’t think you’d be here. Look, we don’t have to do this you know.”

    “No, we’re here now, let’s do it…”

    We made it past a caretaker and into the changing rooms that were thankfully quiet. There were a couple of rows of benches and lockers on the wall, and a white tiled opening at the end of the room.

    “I guess they’re round there… let’s have a look” said Ben, stepping gingerly around the corner.

    There was basically a tiled corridor, shower heads along the wall, about 8 in total. No privacy, as we’d expected.

    We both started to strip off uncomfortably, first shoes and socks, then t-shirts, then jeans. Then we were both stood in our underwear – he in boxers, me in briefs. Ben was skinny and pale from spending too much time inside smoking dope, a bit like me – but he was much hairier. His chest was thick with dark hair, swirling around his puffy nipples. His legs also were matted with fur. And he smelled sweaty and well, really fucking male. My dick had shrunk away in fear but I felt a rush of blood. I hoped I’d be able to keep it under control.

    “Shit… well, here goes” mumbled Ben, pulling down his boxers. It was his bush I saw first, thick, wiry black hair, almost hiding his cock, which was surprisingly small. It seemed to be all foreskin, shrivelled away with fear.

    I looked away quickly, not wanting to freak him out and pulled down my own pants. I glanced down – I was hanging a little longer than Ben but the embarrassment factor meant my cock was pretty much at its smallest. Ben kinda looked relieved, which pissed me off momentarily, but at least we were reasonably matched in the cock department.

    Just then the door opened and a tall, athletic guy walked in with a sports bag. We both wrapped towels around our waists, and headed for the showers.

    “I guess this isn’t so hard” said Ben, selecting a shower in the middle. I stood a couple of jets away from him, for politeness like in a urinal.

    “No, it’s not that hard” I said, pointedly looking at his cock. Perhaps it had grown slightly, but was still a wrinked worm within a forest of pubes.

    “You perve! It’s shrunk away cos it’s terrified! Yours is hardly any bigger.”

    Ben took his cock in his hand and shook it a few times. “It’s returning to normal a bit now”

    His cock had definitely lengthened a bit. “I know, it’s funny how they can shrink away to nothing or grow into a monster depending on the situation!” I said, giving my own cock a quick tug.

    We carried on chatting and showered, sharing his shower gel. I felt a bit weird soaping up my cock and pulling back the foreskin in front of Ben but it really had to be done, my cock had got really cheesy. And seeing him soap up his arse, rubbing right into the cleft started to get me chubbing up.

    Suddenly there was a voice. “Is there hot water today guys?”. It was the other guy who’d come in after us, stood in the entrance naked. Wow. He was tall, tanned, athletically built. Dark hair, Italian-looking features, smooth toned chest. But my eyes just went straight to his cock – it looked about five inches long, swinging between his thighs. It looked like he had a semi.

    I looked up. “Yeah, lovely and warm.”

    “Brilliant – it  was fucking freezing yesterday.”

    He had a southern, maybe London accent. He strode in and took the shower opposite us. His arse was smooth and pert, so different from Ben’s hairy rear. The thought of getting my tongue up there came unwanted into my mind. I looked away, staring at the wall, willing myself not to get an erection.

    “Hey, do you mind if I borrow your shower gel?” asked the guy. I turned to face him – Jesus, his cock was even longer, definitely half hard. I felt my own cock starting to harden as I passed him the gel. Ben was shampooing his hair, facing away from us.

    “No problem” I said, passing him the gel. He carried on talking, asking me what course I was doing., and my name. He was called Alex, a business studies student, and he’d just been to the gym. I was mesmerised by his cheeky grin and great physique. There was a swagger about him, he dominated the space and oozed confidence. It seemed rude to face away while we talked, so I watched as he soaped up his chest, then his legs, then his cock and balls.

    As we chatted, he slowly massaged his cock, pulling the foreskin right back. He was now almost completely hard, but pointing his cock down to not make it obvious. My own cock was filling out rapidly. There was a charged sexual tension in the air. I wondered if Ben could feel it or had noticed. Shit, I didn’t want to freak him out.

    It seemed as though Alex noticed my discomfort.

    “Look, sorry guys, showers always make me horny, I don’t know why” he said, letting go of his cock so it stuck straight out. It was bigger than mine, at least 7-8 inches long with an upwards curve.

    Ben turned around “Bloody hell. You’ll have someone’s eye out.”

    I laughed. “Only if you bend over, which I don’t reckon is a good idea in a shower.”

    “I’m not gonna bum you, honest” said Alex. “Anyway I’m not the only one with a hard on am I?”

    He was right, my cock was now at pretty much full mast, though still covered with foreskin. “Sorry,  I get the same thing with showers. It’s cos I usually have a wank.”

    “Me too” said Alex, holding his cock and giving it a few tugs. He lent back against the wall between the shower heads and began to wank properly. “Sorry, I’m a bit of a horny bastard.”

    I grinned and started to wank myself too. Glancing at Ben he was also half hard. “You dirty sods… what if someone walks in?” he asked.

    “I can cum pretty quick” said Alex, speeding up his rhythm. “Last one to cum owes me a pint”.

    Ben’s cock was stiff now too. Still slightly shorter than mine, but really fat and veiny. “I can’t believe I’m doing this…” he muttered as he began to wank. He’d got such a long foreskin he didn’t seem to need to pull it back at all.

    “When yo gotta cum, yo gotta cum” said Alex, in a kind of mockney accent, pumping away smiling, his abs taut and flexing as he jerked his dick. Facing each other wanking, I suddenly realised we were having a circle jerk, something I’d read about and fantasised about for years. I wondered if this happened all the time with sporty lads. Lucky fuckers.

    Thirty seconds later there was a noise outside. Was that the door to the changing rooms opening. We all stopped still, listening. Ben let go of his cock and shook his head. “Shit. Too risky. I’m out…” he whispered, turning off his shower and walking over to where the towels were hung up. He quickly wrapped himself in the towel and left the shower area. Alex leaned back an started wanking again. I looked over at him, and involuntarily licked my lips. Then a moment of panic hit me and I went to leave.

    Alex grabbed my arm. “Don’t go yet” he whispered, pulling me back. Then he reached down and grabbed my cock. I made a lame attempt to push him off, but he held on tight, so I let him stroke me, really surprised that this stunning guy was interested in my cock.

    I reached over and touched his too. Soft, velvety yet strong as iron it pulsed in my hand. He smiled. “Wanna suck it?” he whispered. I did. I knelt down and opened my mouth, let him enter. I tried to take as much as I could but quickly gagged. The curve of his cock made it hard to take much of him into my mouth, his bulbous bellend poked the top of my throat. I draw back, licking the end. Pre cum dribbled from the end of his cock, it seemed the sweetest taste and I licked around his helmet gently. “That’s nice… oh yeah… keep doing that…” encouraged Alex, thrusting gently into my mouth.

    There was another noise outside, someone talking. Quickly I pulled away and stood up. “This is too risky!” I whispered. Alex pulled me back, pleading, “I’m gonna cum, just thirty seconds more”. He wanked himself furiously with his right hand, and reached behind me with his left and pulled me closer. I was wanking myself and knew I’d cum any minute. Alex caressed my buttocks then suddenly his fingers were in my crack, on my arsehole. No-one had ever touched me there. I almost lost my balance and he smiled. “You’d love my cock up your arse, wouldn’t you?” he whispered into my ear.

    I felt myself reddening, embarrassed. I had barely come to terms with being gay, and anal sex seemed something taboo, to be ashamed of. Alex persisted “Fucking lovely tight hole…” and his soapy fingers entered me, explored inside. That was too much, I was cumming. I held onto Alex’s smooth body, falling into him as my cock pulsed shot after shot of spunk, Alex’s fingers jammed up my arse. I tried not to groan, the pleasure was incredibly intense. Suddenly Alex’s fingers left my hole and he was pushing me down, directing my mouth onto his cock. As he slipped into my mouth I realised he was cumming, and my mouth filled up with hot salty spunk.

    “Oh yeah” he said, holding my head. “Fuck yeah…”

    I pulled off his cock and swallowed, savouring the taste. Another rope of cum hit me in the face, stinging my eyes.

    “Nice one!” he whispered, rinsing himself off. I felt in a bit of a daze. I walked over and grabbed my towel and went into the changing room. Ben was still there, nearly fully dressed, and two guys were changing into sports gear. “Finished up then?” Ben enquired, not really looking me in the eye. “Yeah” I muttered, “All done.”

    I started drying myself off, hardly stepping outside of the towel as my erection hadn’t fully subsided.

    Ben got his shoes and left the changing room. I quickly dried off and got dressed and joined him in the reception area outside. Alex still hadn’t left the shower, which was annoying, as I’d wanted to get his details. Later I realised he probably hadn’t wanted to give them to me.

    We let the building and walked across the playing field back to the student houses. I wasn’t sure what to say. “That was a bit intense” said Ben.

    “Yeah… unexpected…” I offered, not sure how Ben felt about it.

    “That is like about the most freakiest thing that has happened to me all year.”

    “Yeah, me too” I mumbled.

    “So did you cum then? Who came first?”

    “I came first. Loads. Can’t believe I did that really…” I said, not meeting Ben’s eyes.

    “I can’t believe you did it either. I can’t believe I joined in… I dunno, it was horny… you’re braver than me though.”

    “I was gonna leave, but…”. I didn’t finish. I couldn’t tell Ben that Alex had pulled me back and touched my cock. “I’ve always been a bit competitive” I said, unconvincingly.

    “Well you won! Though he beat us both with that massive cock. Like a baby’s arm!”

    Then he stopped dead, peering at me. “Shit! Mark! You’ve got spunk in your hair!”

    I moved my hand up to my hair. True enough, gelatinous spunk was sprayed along the right side of my head. The last couple of pumps after I stopped sucking Alex’s cock.

    “Fuck. Must have got it over my hand and then wiped my head”. I rubbed at my head with the arm of my jumper. “Have I got it all?”

    “Yeah, I think so” Mark said, checking out my head all over. There was a strange look in his eye, and he went quiet as though he was thinking of what to say.

    “Look… Do you think though… do you think he might have been gay? I mean… you know, I’ve wanked with mates when I was younger but… in a public shower?”

    “Some people are exhibitionists aren’t they” I said. “Perhaps he liked showing off. I don’t reckon he was gay…”

    “Well it was all a bit gay if you ask me…”

    “I’m not gay, if that’s what you’re thinking” I snapped, “Anyway you joined in too!”

    “OK, yeah you’re right. Sorry. It was just a bit weird… At least we got clean I spose”.

    We walked in silence for a couple of minutes. My heart was beating, I was horrified at what I’d done. Almost exposed my true self to Ben.

    “I’m sorry I’ve pissed you off” he said suddenly, stopping. “It’s me that’s a dick, always too worried about what people will think. I shouldn’t have left…”

    “No, I shouldn’t have stayed. It was stupid. I mean, if we’d got caught…”

    “Nightmare!” Ben said, laughing. “Probably get chucked out of uni. Anyway, look, next time you fancy a wanking competition, let’s do it in my room.”

    “That’s a deal” I said, smiling. Was he for real?

    We trudged on.

    “Thanks for helping me over my phobia anyway mate… Jesus, twenty minutes ago I was scared of getting my kit off then I’m stood wanking in the nuddy with two blokes…”

    “You’d definitely got nothing to be ashamed of mate”

    “You neither. Same time tomorrow?”

    “Cool” I said. “No wanking though.”

    Ben laughed. “No wanking. Maybe after though?”

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