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Damian awoke the next morning, thinking of all that had happened the night before, in the daylight streaming through the window, it all seemed so weird. He decided a walk along the beach before breakfast would help him think, he had a good hour or so before the bell would ring. Picking up a pair of shorts from out of a drawer he slipped them over a pair of clean white briefs, slipped on some sandals and quietly left his lodgings and out of the door which led to the beach. Walking along the sand in the pleasant morning breeze, he soon cleared his head of the night before, he decided to run along the sand a bit like a child or teenager would have done on a visit to the seaside. But here there was none of the usual holiday resort trappings, just beautiful deserted sand recently washed by the tide, the Abbey at one end and the cliffs and rock pools at the other. He decided that by running he could explore some of the rock pools left by the tide, several of them were fairly deep and warm with the morning sun. Feeling a bit roguish and checking no one was around, he slipped off his shorts and briefs and plunged into the pool, it felt wonderful as he dipped himself in it, it was warm and salty and Damian washed it all over his body, finding a rock just under the surface he sat tthere enjoying the warm water of his naked body, his cock started to rise as he thought about the night before. and he started to stroke it through the warm salty water, grasping the shaft and fingering the tip which was now sticking out of the pool, he shut his eyes enjoying the erotic pleasure of his cock in one hand and pulling on his nipples with the other, suddenly he was woken from his idyll. Good Morning, Damian said a familiar voice, Damian released his cock straight away and turned and there was Joseph, he didn’t know what to do his hard cock still stuck out of the pool and his nipples were pert. Mind if I join you, NNN No said Damian and within a second Josephs cassock and briefs were on the rock next to his own and the Abbot was in the water next to him. Damian was trying to hide his erect cock made even harder by the sight of Josephs naked body. What if someone comes and sees us said Damian, no one comes here in the morning, too busy reading the office and preparing for mass, I often come to this pool, you are out of sight of the Abbey and the cliffs are to steep for anyone to come the other way. Joseph leaned back and Damian saw he was hard too, then he leaned over and touched Damians Cock which was dripping precum. his other arm went around the curate and he kissed him, this time Damian couldn’t stop himself he opened his mouth for the Abbots tongue and they both kissed passionately Damian felt for Josephs cock tip and rubbed his finger in the pre cum gathering there, Joseph moaned and his cock went rock hard. Damian bent over and took the head in his mouth licking at the precum, then as Joseph had done the night before, licked down the shaft as far as he could, though due to the Abbots balls being in the salt water of the pool he retraced with his tongue back to the tip. The Abbey Bell ringing brought them back to reality, quickly they dressed and started their walk back to the Abbey along the sand, before they were clear of the rocks, Joseph pulled Damian back and kissed him once more, then normality resumed and they chatted as they arrived back at the Abbey were the two Nuns who had just arrived from their lodge, were entering the refectory to prepare breakfast for after the service. Just as Damian made his way up to his room to vest for Mass, the Abbot whispered, “Come to my Room before lunch and I will show you some more things we can share.” Damian was thinking about what Joseph had said all through Mass and when it came to the Homily, given by Joseph, he quoted from St Pauls sermon about love and all the time rather than looking at the assembled congregation of friars, looked towards Damian sat on his right across from the lectern. Damian felt a strange feeling in his stomach and he too couldn’t take his eyes of Joseph, something hed never experienced for years was suddenly enveloping his reason.. The last time he felt anything like this was his first year at the seminary, getting a sort of schoolboy crush on the Games Master, when he caught him in just his jock after Rugby, he was Damian thought at the time built like Hercules must have been and he couldn’t take his eyes of the large bulge in his Jock. The ringing of the bells, brought him back to earth and he approached the lectern for the final prayers before dispersal. Time seemed to drag before the time Joseph had told him to come to his room, at last it arrived and Damian made his way to the Abbots rooms, which were in one of the Towers away from the main part of the building so very quiet. He knocked on the door, 2Come in” said Joseph, He closed the door behind him and was amazed to see Joseph come out of the anteroom in just his briefs, he walked up to Damian and kissed him, and within seconds Damians cassock was on the floor and he too was in his briefs, both men had hard cocks tenting their briefs. Joseph gently and lovingly removed Damians briefs and kissed and caressed his cock as he did, then removing his he beckoned Damian to the settee, and he sat down, his cock sticking bolt up right , from a drawer he got a tube and rubbed lube of his cock, standing the boy up he rubbed lube all around and into the Curates arse, now lower yourself onto me and take it real slow let yourself relax, Damian did as Joseph told him Joseph kissed him as the lad lowered himself on to the Abbots cock, he grimaced, and the Abbot said ” Relax and slowly, bit by bit Damian felt Josephs cock sliding into his virgin hole, carefully Joseph, helped him by resisting the urge to push into him. Gradually it slid in until the lads arse was on Josephs balls, Damian let out a sigh and adjusted slightly, but it felt wonderful, you comfortable asked the Abbot, Yes was the reply, then ride it! Damian did as the Abbot asked slowly at first till a rhythm ensued and then faster and faster, Damians cock was bouncing about splashing precum everywhere,, suddenly the Abbot could hold no more and Damian felt blasts of warm cum shoot deep into his hole and shooting for what seemed like ages, convinced the lad his arse must be full of cum, all of a sudden and with a Ohhh! Damian shot his load all over the Abbot, they both collapsed exhausted in each others arms, and enjoyed the moment. That was Fucking fantastic said the Curate, Fr Damian language please, Ill have to give you a penance at confession for that!. More of what you just given me please said the Curate, and the two started laughing. Right said Joseph, better get us cleaned up, to the shower. As Damian followed him to another room he could feel the Abbots cum running from his passage, it was running down both of his thighs as he reached the shower. They showered kissing each other at every opportunity and making arrangements for a night of passion after lights out.

I should preface this by reiterating a general guideline (my husband the Judge’s term) – we usually don’t play with locals. It just works better, when we’re generally interested in single use, not to be running into them after the face. Awkward moments like that are boring.  This sexcapade, then, is an exception . . . sorta. The bitch we used this week lives out of town but works for a corporation headquartered in the District, so he’s semi-local. LOL We also might consider him again on a future trip. Our rule – our prerogative! LOL

Also, my continuous pitch for shows of appreciation and support for Bjorn and GayDemon. We wouldn’t have this terrific place to share our sexcapades, our reminiscences and our fantasies without Bjorn’s tireless efforts.

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A CrossFit HookUp For The Marine And The Judge

by BillyC

In the past year, since the (former) Indiana CrossFit box’s Gay Pride faux pas and the Corporate so called Christian who mouthed off with anti gay bullshit and promply got fired, CrossFit Corporate has amped up its “visits” to the boxes. We had a CrossFit Corporate visitor during a usual Tuesday advanced WOD – a beast of a stud named Deke, who was working as one of the trainers. 6’ or an inch or two taller, by my visual estimation about 205 pounds of pure, tightly packed on muscle, about 35 yrs old, very dark, straight hair, very hairy and only trimmed at his neck, big bulge and an ass to die for. I did have to laugh at one thing – he was wearing Reebok from head to toe. Reebok is a huge CrossFit sponsor, and he was a walking advertisement – a handsome, masculine stud in form fitting, very revealing gear. If that wasn’t funny enough, turns out Deke IS well-equipped himself, and that big bulge was contained by a Reebok CCM – a jockstrap that’s made for a cup, so it’s a bigger pouch, which we later found out he filled out exceptionally well. Points for ingenuity . . . and for having a big cock and balls!

It was a particularly challenging WOD – the management of our box was showing off for Corporate. Deke was acting like one of the guys, particularly to us. I didn’t think a lot about his overt friendliness – he’s from Corporate after all. They’re supposed to be brand ambassadors and all that. But the way he gravitated to us during the WOD, and the third time he brushed up against me unnecessarily – and that was after the second time he’d done the same with my husband – I smacked his ass HARD after a great set and leaned in and growled next to his ear, “Don’t start anything you can’t finish!” when I could get it in without anyone else hearing.

Deke let out a huge laugh in response and sort of punched my shoulder and said, “Good one, dude!” Then, as he was passing around me, added, “I AM a finisher!” in a low, gravelly near growl. He also held my gaze for long enough to make his intent absolutely clear, in case I hadn’t gotten the message.

My husband Jimmy had noticed the smack, the laugh in response, the retort and lingering gaze. I sensed him watching and switched my gaze to him, getting a grin. I signaled to him with my eyes and a head jerk, and he gave Deke another look up and down – do NOT think I didn’t notice him checking the trainer out before! – and then gave me a thumbs up.

And we went on . . . Deke really challenged us during the WOD and I think he very well might have been trying to see if we were heartfit enough to take him on and fuck him senseless! Spoiler alert – we passed!

After, we hit the lockers. Deke had followed us and as we were getting our gym bag out and briefly contemplating shower or just change into dry street clothes to go home, he loudly proclaimed in our direction – “I need a damn shower!”

Deliberation was over. I walked over, and I told him – “If you’re planning on FINISHING, you’ll have plenty to shower off afterward!”

He replied with a too loud, “FUCK YEAH!”

We followed on foot to his hotel. In the District, full of great hotels, particularly around Dupont Circle, his wasn’t greatest, though not bad and probably fit within his corporate travel budget better than the exorbitant rates of the Ritz Carlton and other top grade hotels in the area.  In retrospect, we should have just gone to our condo – we’d have been more comfortable.

He had to be put down a bit – too kissy and shit when the door to his room had closed. “Strip and present!” I barked.

That got another, “Oh FUCK YEAH!” out of him, and complied. The studly trainer stripped at light speed, his sweat soaked muscle shirt and workout shorts snapped and dripped, and his sweat splattered when they plopped on the floor. The rest of his ripped, furred bod was as pleasing as expected from the preview when his workout clothes clung to him. He did take time stripping off his sopping jockstrap, for our benefit. The pouch was made for a cup, so it was oversized, and he’d plumped it full with a fat cock and heavy, hairy balls, all protruding from a thick thatch of lush, dark pubes. And when he took off the strap, he leaned over and gave us a full on view of his statue perfect ass, hairy all over and the sweaty thatch in his crack around his cunthole as inviting as could be.

“That hole ready for use?” I asked.

“Which one?” he replied sassily. Then before we could answer, he turned around again, bent over again, spread his hairy asscheeks wide apart and added, “One sure way to find out!”

“Looks damn tight,” I told him. “You think that cunt can take these two horsecocks?” I asked him, gripping my hardening cock and giving it a good shake in his direction.

He planted his feet wide and put his fists on his hips. He took a long look at my crotch, and then met my eyes. “I already told you there’s only, there’s only one way to find out,” he replied defiantly, chin up and smirking.

 “If you need to clean up, get it done, boy, because you’ll be sucking our cocks clean after we use that hole of yours.”

He replied – “You bet your sacs I’m ready to go . . . and I will!” Then – “How ‘bout you unleash those monsters?”

We told him to do that himself. Jim commanded, “You want ‘em, then you take them out.”

“Undress my husband first,” I clarified. The bitch quickly complied.

Deke on his knees and wide-eyed was bone-reinforcing.  “May I?” he asked, for the first time respectful of his place. He was paused with his fingers of one hand inside Jimmy’s sopping waistband, his other hand poised to take hold of the impressive bulge my husband was sporting and looking up at him expectantly. Before Jimmy, who was peeling off his sweat-dripping shirt himself, could answer, the bitch turned to me and asked again.

I shrugged as Jim restarted him. “We didn’t tell you to undress us to make a show of it. Get it done and THEN you can get to work on our cocks.”

So he got Jim’s trunks and jockstrap down to knee level before becoming distracted . . . with both an exceptionally pleased reaction when Jimmy’s massive cock and heavy hanging nuts sprung free and when he leaned in and inhaled the heady scent of my husband I know so well. “You’re not finished with your first task – get him NAKED . . . and then we’ll let you enjoy your next task!” I barked

Deke blushed and grinned, and he immediately complied, tossing the sweat sopping clothes to the side. I then told him to get Jim’s shoes and socks off. Deke guided Jim to sit on the mercifully large bed, and he only briefly sniffed each shoe, sock and foot as he did.  “I see you,” I admonished him.

I also saw Jim wince twice almost unnoticeably – when Deke tossed his trunks and strap in a heap, then again as Deke chucked his shoes out of the way, as they landed and dispersed into a wide flung pile across the floor. He hadn’t minded Deke’s clothes carelessly discarded, but his own? Sacrilege! LOL That’s my husband!

As Jim sat on the edge of the bed, his cock jutting out at Deke’s face, Deke’s desire was so evident. Really HOT. As I had been his principal controller, he looked over at me expectantly. But he was startled when Jim ordered him to, “Stop lazing on your knees and go get my husband undressed!”

Deke was up and at me immediately, his own fat, stubby hardon bobbing in front of him and meaty, hairy nuts swinging appealingly as he came over to me. “Good boy!” Jimmy praised his quick response, ever the encouraging dad core of him. “Shirt first!” he’d snapped when our bitch reached for my waistband, like he had Jimmy. The encouraging dad, the directing dad, all core to him and enjoyed by me when HE wasn’t being my bitch so captivatingly.

So Deke got up and purposely jammed his hardon into my thigh as he wrestled my sweaty shirt off. When it was over my head he leaned in and inhaled deeply near my left pit. Jim threw me a glance, but I returned his look with a signal that I was fine with it, so he ordered the bitch to, “Clean his pits with your tongue, first, before you finish undressing him!” in a sharp bark.

That appeared to suit his purpose just fine. Deke flung my shirt with a PLOP onto the TV, and I thought Jim might groan out loud. Instead it was I who audibly responded as Deke dove into my right pit and really went at it, snuffling, snorting and totally pigging out. I was startled when Jim raised his voice. “DO NOT touch yourself! This is about US and our pleasure!” As consolation . . . or tantalization . . . I ground my hardon into his waist as he determinedly enjoyed my sweaty, rank armpit. Then the other one.  

Deke went back and forth, sucking, licking, rubbing his face in my pits, all the while growling, exclaiming, snorting – really pigging out! I felt his precum running down my knee and shin at one point, and that amped up my own production. Jimmy relaxed into watching, leaning back on his elbows on the edge of the bed, watching, smiling his beautiful smile, agonizingly slowly stroking his freely dripping cock. The sight of him eclipsed the pleasure of our bitch’s sweaty body against mine and the practiced and energetic work of his tongue, mouth, nose and face.

I finally ordered the bitch to get my shorts and shoes off, and he did my shorts and jockstrap with over eager enthusiasm and then gasped – literally – when he had my impossibly thick cock freed. I always love that moment with a new bitch! I know it’s shallow and vain, but whatthefuck!

“We’re gonna wreck your fuckn cunt. Then we’ll be on our way!” I told him.

Another “FUUUUUUCCKKK YEAH!” from him. Then – “You gonna seed me? Between you two those balls look like they’re more than capable of knocking me up!”

“Enough of the pussy woman ‘knocking up’ shit!” I barked. And I meant it. I almost always hate that nonsense.

He lowered his eyes and said very strongly, “Sorry!” as if he was angry with himself. Then, “Understood, sir!” Okay, points redeemed. “I’m on PrEP and totally clean, so you know you can use me any way you want.” Points earned and points forfeited – he never asked if we were clean, which almost made me hesitate to use him bare. Almost.

“Clean my husband’s sweat – ALL of it, ending with his shithole!” I ordered. I hadn’t let Deke get past my pits, and I really wanted to watch my husband being pleasured . . . and maybe to use one or both of them myself while he did!

He was ON that! Jimmy scrabbled backwards up on the bed, and Deke dove onto him, and really ate his pits and licked his neck and chest. I took the opportunity to tease him a bit while his ass was in the air as he worked his way down my husband’s long torso. I smacked his big, hairy nuts a few times, getting yelps and groans, but definitely appreciation. I teased his hairy hole with my finger, smacked his VERY furry bubble butt repeatedly, harder and harder, too, alternating with the nut smacking and hole teasing until his moans and groans were LOUD and continuous.

Deke’s furry ass was world class, I should add. Lunges, stairmaster, biking, who knew? But what was obvious was that those globes of buttflesh were sheer perfection. And the dark fur covering was icing on an already sinfully appetizing cake.

He had his face buried in Jim’s asscrack muffling his moans and cries when he suddenly came up for air and shouted – “OH FUCK I’m—“ and then came very suddenly came HARD while I smacked his pulled up nuts. I had noticed them pulling up, but I thought it was in response to the abuse . . . or escalation of arousal. NOT because he was that easy a cummer! “Sorry!” He gasped as he pumped out all over the bed and Jim. I didn’t stop my attentions, and I enjoyed his body’s spasms’ intensity, particularly when my hand smacked his tanks.

“A ripe one, Billy,” Jimmy said, making us all three laugh as Deke struggled to get himself back on task. Ripe in so many ways – the waft of our sweatstink in the room was heavy by then . . . and better than any cologne or air freshener!

The bitch was panting and working to get his breathing under control as he went back to Jimmy with his tongue. He offered one last “I’m really sorry. But DAYUM!” as he got back to it.

We really didn’t mind. And in discussion afterward, both my husband and I had a similar thought when Deke came so suddenly like that – he might be LOADs of fun to take our time with and really drain him before we gave him any of our seed. At the time, though, I erred on the side of my cock and nuts’ satisfaction.

From the looks of Jim’s precum flow, he thought it was as hot as I did. I scooped up Deke’s spilt jizz and roughly penetrated his tight, furred cunthole and lubed him with it. “I’d say he’s a ripe pain pig!” I told Jimmy as Deke was by then sucking Jim’s ass. He grunted around two of my big fingers inside him as I continued to roughly open him and smear more globs of his own cum inside him. “I think he’s ready if you are,” I told Jim when Deke was fucking back onto three fingers and panting and moaning like a bitch while he was still eating Jimmy’s hole. I could tell Jim was ready by his pants and moans from the bitch’s expert tonguework.

“Switch,” Jim proclaimed, suddenly letting his legs fall and dislodging the ass sucking bitch.

We didn’t, exactly. We kept Deke on all fours, but I got up to where he could suck me while Jimmy fucked him.

“This hole still looks TIGHT,” Jim teased, rubbing his slimy knob all over the bitch’s hairy crack and hole.

“I can take it!” the bitch nearly begged.  I pushed his head down onto my cock, and he was giving that a decent try as Jim entered him. The bitch cried out LOUD, but I held his head and shoved my cock in until his mouth was filled, muffling the cry.

“He IS tight!” my husband confirmed, and Deke moaned as loudly as he could with me assaulting the opening to his throat. Then Jimmy started pumping Deke, which caused the bitch to, in time with the thrusts, open WIDER to moan or cry. That, of course, was my opportunity to shove in farther, finally achieving his throat.

Jimmy’s long dicking him and my forcing him to keep himself down on my cock in spite of his bucking and cherry red, sweating face and muffled pleas and cries went on for a bit. The gagging, choking, spitting, protesting never stopped. But Deke was fucking back into Jimmy’s slowly pistoning cock, and it was obviously time to up the game.

I let the bitch have some breathing space, allowing him to pull his head back and suck in loud breaths. My husband took the cue, though, and began really drilling his cunt and causing Deke to grunt with each bottom out inside him and to give a sharp moan on the outgo which turned into a cry before Jimmy thrust back HARD into him. This was all so rapid once Jimmy really was drilling him hard and fast that the moans and reactions were melding together.

Finally, I pushed Deke back onto my cock, and about then Jimmy really bitchfucking him. It was tough for Deke to retain purchase to lick and suck my cock, but I helpfully held his head in position so he could attend to his duties. Jimmy’s slamfuck was hard and fast, and at one point Deke surrendered to my hold and let his mouth engulf my cockknob, let his tongue rest against my slit and underside and allowed the jolts to do the work for him. All the while he moaned continuously, sometimes higher pitched, sometimes louder, depending on the force of Jim’s onslaught.

Deke wasn’t the greatest cocksucker, but watching my husband really get into fucking him had me so high that when Jimmy growled out, “I’m going to flood you!” I was the one who lost it. As in NO control, and was I think pumping out and gagging Deke before Jim’s first nutblast. My nuts had just ignited and were spewing my jizz hard, and the bitch was struggling with the volume and force of it, swallowing between moans.

Jimmy’s climax was jolting, too, as I watched his face and neck muscles contort and tense and then his body spasm as blast after blast was propelled more than ten inches inside our bitch’s cuntchute. We never broke eye contact while we each gave that bitch our loads.

I watched Jimmy go a bit slack, bracing himself with his hands on the bitch’s waist, feeling the pressure against Deke’s body. Deke by then had swallowed everything, licked me until it became uncomfortable for me, and I’d knocked him off, so he was resting his face on my crotch, still ass up.

When Jim finally pulled out, with a loud cry from Deke as his cuntring was stretched around Jimmy’s impressively flanged knob, all I wanted was to have my husband all to myself. I didn’t want our bitch’s hole, primed with my husband’s cum and stretched for my further challenge of his capacity, I just wanted to be able to enjoy fucking my husband. “Okay, time for us to get going!” I proclaimed, making it sound more like a joke than the imperative it was in my mind.

Deke looked up my body at me, even as he obediently began to lift himself to let me up. “I understand,” the bitch said, a bit sadly. “But you’re still hard, and could I just feel that fuckn monster inside me, too? I have to clean off his cock anyway, so my ass might as well be used while I do!”

“Let him sit on it, babe. He earned it!” Jimmy said sensibly. And they both had a point. And we’d have our time soon enough.

So he climbed on, and as he did I noticed for the first time that the bitch had shot another load at some point. Must have been while Jim was railing him. The second cumload was equally impressive and puddled – and almost piled in places – in an arc out on the bed from where his cock would have been and my side.

Deke STRUGGLED to take me, forcing his battered cunt down onto and around me. It might have been more fun if he could have verbalized the faces he was giving while he forced himself onto me. I forced myself to enjoy his hard work and not to laugh. And I had his tongue slathering of Jimmy’s half hard, slimy cock to distract me.

Deke achieved his goal and suddenly slid down on my cock until his furry, hard ass was on my groin. He squealed around Jim’s cock, but he had it to suck clean, and he maintained his work at that end and managed to grind and ride my cock up and down a little, too.

Jim was about 3/4 hard when he finally said, “I think you’ve more than cleaned me,” and pulled out. Deke’s groans didn’t stop as he continued to ride my cock. I briefly contemplated bucking him off, but Jim went around and looked at where we were joined and said, “That is a beautiful sight. He’s STRETCHED and FULL of you!”

That gave me a burst of incentive, and I fucked up into Deke. He was panting and sweating, and his face was red and scrunched up, but he was taking it, albeit with unmanly moans and grunts as he endured it.

“Had enough?” I finally asked.

“Oh god yes! Sorry!” he quickly said, and he even quicker began his very loud, painful dismount. When he was off and had gotten himself around to lick me clean of his slimy ass, he looked up at me and said, “You actually FUCK with that?”

I laughed. “Concentrate on your job there, so we can get going. It’s been fun, but . . . “

I actually was stopped mid sentence by him swallowing my cock, including down his throat, for the first time. I may have been as surprised as he was, because when he came up again, after an amusing fight to get my knob back out his throat opening – okay, yeah – I love THAT, too, the moment when the bitch is suddenly terrified he won’t be able to get my cock back OUT of his throat after finally being able to take it the first time! – he took a long gasp of breath and then grinned and said, “I FUCKING DID IT!”

I was already getting off the bed and uttered some half-hearted “good man”, and Jimmy took up the slack, again the encouraging coach and dad. “You did darn good! And particularly well for my purpose, as I needed to regain some Continuing Gay Education credits, because my Gay Card was in danger.”

Deke gave a confused look. “Not sure what that all means, but I’ll tell you one thing. I’d sure love to give you two a chance to give me some advanced ‘education’,” he smirked, air quoting the last word.

He suggested we shower, and we declined. We wanted to get out and get to eachother, and I for one wanted to TASTE my husband just as he was. Also, we could see through to the unimpressive bathroom, and it would have been serial because of the tiny tub/shower stall. In retrospect that dreary shower facility could have worked to avoid prolonged or renewed play in the shower, but still, I know I wanted to enjoy Jimmy’s tastes and smells, and I would have won my bet had I made it that he wanted the same.

We quickly got into our dry clothes from our gym bags, got our sweaty clothes into wet bags and then had the inevitable awkward departure. No, we weren’t needing Deke’s card, as we weren’t going to email him anything salacious (or otherwise). We didn’t offer our contact info. Besides – if he really wants to get in touch because he’s back or something, we’re in the box’s membership, and he’s from Corporate and I bet could get it!

Finally, what seemed like far too long later, brohugs all around – the used bitch still naked and dripping Jimmy’s cum down his thighs and off his sac. We made our way through the third rate hotel, reeking of sex, me thinking that we likely weren’t the first sex-sated men to have walked the halls and through the lobby stinking. When we got outside, fortunately there was a breeze, so those we passed only got wafts and not the full treatment as we walked back to Jim’s car where we had left it in the lot adjacent to CrossFit.

As we were walking, we were within a block of our condo, and he asked if we should just go there. It was tempting. I told Jimmy it depended on how bad he wanted my cock. There, right out on K Street, he grabbed my crotch, causing both of us to stop . . . and causing a few stares. “I always want your cock, Billy,” he answered with intensity in his stare into my eyes, as we were by then facing one another there on the sidewalk. “Anywhere. Anytime.”

I strongly considered it. Right there, right then. My inner pig could have REALLY got into that. I told Jimmy that in a low growl, and he squeezed my semi harder, and his eyes rolled back a bit at the thought. Then I said, “I’m sure there’s something in the voluminous and detailed Code of Judge’s Conduct or whatever the fuck code it is that says that’s not advisable.” We both laughed, and Jimmy gave up his grip on my cock but kissed me instead.

We continued walking, holding hands as I’d take his that had so recently been pleasantly gripping my fuckrod, then drove home. And took our time at home. In the pool. For starters.

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So, to our dear friend Patrick Law, who “caught” my husband in his serious faux pas of not recognizing Tom of Finland – which by any standard is an essential gay infraction, certainly the loss of his Gay Card looming – we consider that he has been redeemed. You, of course, will be the arbiter of your satisfaction with his restitution. The Universe answers need – swiftly . . . and damn enjoyably, as far as I’m concerned! LOL

And to my readers, I hope you have, once again, enjoyed a glimpse into our depraved sexcapades in some small fraction as much as we enjoyed them! As always, any comments or direct emails are always welcome.

Lastly, again, show Bjorn some love – he deserves it!

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

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I visited a couple cities after Chicago but there was not much to tell.

When I arrived to Fort Lauderdale I was ready for another adventure. I decided to visit a local stripper bar. I have a thing for the big butch muscle ( usually straight ) strippers. I was in luck that night because there was one that was just my type. All the twinks kept buzzing around but I kept giving the big muscle hunk my dollars. He made a few rotations on the stage when I finally got the nerve to ask for a private dance.

He led me back to a little space with a curtain and closed it behind us. He was funny and sexy and really good at his job. He did his whole dance. Flashing me his meaty ass and big floppy cock. He invited me to touch him and jerk his cock a little. We had our fun and then I went to the bar to sit and have a drink. The bartender was super sexy and almost better than the strippers. I spent the rest of the evening chatting with him and asking out the city. Towards the end of the evening he asked what I was doing the next day. I told him I had just got into town and had no plans. He invited me to come over to his house for a pool party the next day. I wasn’t about to say no and so we exchanged numbers and I left.

The next day I texted when I woke up and he said to come on over any time. He said he was spending the whole day by the pool and to join him whenever. I grabbed coffee and breakfast and then headed over. I texted him when I was on the way and he said to just come around to the side of the house and come through the fence into the back yard. I did as he said and when I closed the fence behind me I saw him floating on rubber raft in the pool. Ass up and naked as could be. I must have been smiling from ear to ear. He smiled said hello and that swimsuits were optional. He told me to grab myself a drink from the kitchen and I could leave my clothes and things on the counter.

I stepped inside, treatment myself to a shot of tequila and then grabbed a beer. I started stripping out of my clothes and laying them up on the counter. I decided I better hit the restroom before the pool and started looking around for the right door. The only clothes I still had on was my flip flops when I opened what I thought was the bathroom door. It turned out to be his roommates room and we collided as he pulled the door open to walk out. He had one hand on the door and so did I. The force pulled me into his chest and his free hand swung and basically grabbed my dick and balls. We had a shocked moment, then laughed. I apologized and tried to quickly explain myself. He was wearing a swimsuit and had a towel around his neck. He reached up and shook my hand when he introduced himself. Then he told me to come on in and use his restroom in his room. I wasn’t sure what else to do so I just walked on in and into his bathroom. He had a seat on his bed and kept talking to me through the closed door while I pissed. When I came back out he was sitting on the bed looking me up and down.

He stood up and said ‘come on – let’s grab a drink and head out back’. I followed him into the kitchen and was planning on grabbing my swim trunks when he raked them off the counter and and he would put them on his bed before everyone else arrived. He darted out of the kitchen and was back again before what he said really started to soak in. He handed me a beer and we were out the back door. I got into the pool as quickly as possible and stayed there. The day went on and more and more guys arrived. They all wore swimsuits which only left me and the bartender naked. He was clearly not shy and was in and out of the pool getting drinks.

The roommate continued to flirt with me throughout the day. I couldn’t really tell that any of the guys were couples, if they were. We spent the afternoon drinking and swimming until I couldn’t hold it any longer …I needed to piss again and that meant getting out of the pool and walking through the crowd naked to find a towel. It also didn’t help that there had been plenty of groping going on under the water and my dick was hard as a rock. I asked the roommate if he had a towel I could borrow and he just smiled and said yes, they are by the back door. He grabbed my hand and started leading me out of pool and said he would show me.

As I exited the pool I had plenty of eyes on my hard cock and a few offers to take care of it. I just laughed and joked back. The roommate led me by the hand, grab a towel and handed it to me. He asked if anyone needed a drink and then led me inside. I stopped in the bathroom and then joined him in the kitchen to make drinks. I had the towel wrapped around my waist. He asked me if I would cut up a lime. As I was taking care of that he walked up behind me. He reached down and grabbed the bottom of my towel and started lifting it up my legs. I had lime in one hand and a knife in the other. There wasn’t much I could do when he was suddenly on his knees behind me. I felt his five o’clock stubble as he started kissing my butt cheeks and playfully nibbling them. Then I felt his tongue side up my crack as be began French kissing my butt. It felt really good so I was in no hurry to stop him. He got more and more into it by spreading my cheeks and really going to town. He was on one knee and I felt him lift my right foot up and set it on his knee. That raised my right knee and gave him even better access.

My eyes were rolling back in my head and I had to put down the knife and lime and hang on to the edge of the counter. Having my knee lifted up caused my towel to come loose and next thing I know if fell to the floor. He continued his licking and kissing of my now exposed ass. He reached up with his hand and grabbed my hard dick and started to milk it like a cow as he worked my ass. He would kiss my ass then spit into his hand to lube up my dick. He did this over and over until my knees were shaking and I thought I was going to cum. He was milking my dick with one hand and sliding the other thumb up to play with my hole around his tongue.

I don’t think I have ever had anyone eat my ass that good. I was completely at his mercy when the bartender walked into the kitchen. I couldn’t even bring myself to stop. I just looked at him with my eyes rolling back in my head while he grabbed a beer and headed back out to the pool.

The roommate had me horned up enough that he was getting me close to cumming and was working his thumb in and out of my ass up to his first knuckle as he took turns with his tongue. I was moaning pretty good when he stood up and slapped me on the ass. He said ‘ I’ve been wanting to do that all day’.

With that he grabbed our beers with one hand and my hand with his other and led me back out towards the pool. My knees were still weak and I had left my towel laying on the kitchen floor. We walked back out to the pool with my hard dick bobbing in front of me. It was a very interesting group of guys. There seem to be a lot of bears and muscly DILFs and no twinks or really young guys like there had been at the bar the night before. They all seem like the knew each other pretty well.

The roommate and I got back in the pool and he spent the rest of the evening playing with my butt and dick under the water. The next time we led me out of the pool to the kitchen for more drinks I was a little better prepared. He again asked me to cut up a line for shots and he started pouring a tray full of shots for the crowd. I was half way through my second lime when he was back on his knees. I felt my foot raised up to his knee and I just leaned forward over the counter to give him better access. He worked his magic again. Getting me right up to the edge and backing off a few times.

Then he stood up and handed me the tray of shot as he shuffled me back out to the pool. He led me around while he passed out lime wedges and guys took shots from the tray. A few of the reached up to pull down my dick and watch it pop back up to attention. I had enough drinks in me to just let it happen and laugh with them.

Once all the shots were passed out we did a cheers and then everyone went back to their conversations. The roommate and I got back in the pool and he continued his playing. I tried to get him out of his swim trunks but it didn’t happen. He was playing with my butt the whole time and whispering in my ear how he wanted to fuck me.

When we headed back into the house for more drinks he shuffled me past the kitchen and into his room. He laid me face down on the end of his bed with my waist and legs hanging off the end and started to eat my butt again. The milking of my dick and eating my ass was driving me crazy. I felt like all the teasing had given me blue balls.

He stood up and said ‘don’t move …I have to pee.’. My leg were so weak that there was no danger of mem moving. I heard him piss then a drawer open and close. He came back to the room and I felt him sit on the bed next to me. His hand went back between my cheeks and I felt him dribble some lube in my crack as he massage my hole. He kept up the massaging unti he was back to pushing his thumb in up to the first knuckle. Just enough to feel and make me beg for more.

It was a surprise when I heard him switch something on and a vibrating buzz touch my hole. He was still massaging with his fingers but he was now alternating with what felt like a small vibrating dildo.

I was going crazy. Naked, bent over the end of a bed. He still had his swim trunks on and was fingering and fucking my ass with a small dildo. I could feel him working the dildo in deeper each time. Then he would add more lube and then go a little deeper. Then I felt him switch to only using the dildo on my hole. I felt him dribble more lube onto my balls and let it run down to my dick. Then he grabbed my throbbing cock and started to milk it while he fucked my ass with the dildo.

I was in pure ecstasy. I had never had anyone give me so much attention to drive me so crazy. He was working the dildo in long deep strokes and match the strokes on my cock. I barley noticed when I felt the bed dip on the other side of me. I turned my head to see one of the other guys from the party sit down next to me. He reached up and started rubbing my back as he took over the control of the dildo. The roommate kept milking my cock as the other guy took over the dildo. I was still in pure heaven and my slutty side was in change. I’m not sure how long I laid there letting them fuck me. It did dawn on me that the bedroom door was wide open when I heard some voices coming down the hall. I still couldn’t move. Even thinking about more guys seeing me get my hole and dick worked over.

The new guy was working the dildo when I felt him take over my cock as well. I felt the roommate get off the bed and disappear into the bathroom again. In a minute he was back and kneeling between my legs on the floor. I could feel his thumb working around the dildo going in and out of my ass. The dildo would come all the way out and I would feel his thumb slide in and then replaced by the dildo and back and forth. The next thing I know his thumb is replaced by a second dildo. The two guys were alternating fucking my ass with two different dildos while milking my cock.

They fucked my ass in and out with the dildos. In and out and in and out. I was moaning and my eyes were rolling back in my head because it felt so amazing. I felt the bed dip again where the roommate was sitting and saw another new guy take his place. He took over the work of the second dildo as the roommate kept working my cock.

It was now really starting to sink in. I was the only naked guy in the room. And I was letting two different guys dildo my ass while they watched a third guy milking my cock. It was the hottest most vulnerable situation I had ever been in.

I felt more lube being drizzled on my hole as they started working the dildos in deeper strokes. I felt the roommate stop working my cock and it was just hanging between my legs throbbing. When two more guys walked into the room I started shooting my load. The two worked my hole with the dildos as they fuck load after load out of my cock. The roommate and two new guys just watched as my body trembled and my dick kept dripping cum.

All at once, everyone got up and walked out of the room except me and the roommate. He told me how hot that was. He sat on the bed and watched as I got up and got dressed. HE walked me outside and waited while I called an Uber. I climbed in the Uber and never saw him again. Hopefully the next trip to Fort Lauderdale I will run into him and his friends again.

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Hi guys, my name is Jason, a 28-year-old constantly horny gay dude, who lives in Chicago where I’m a blue collar construction worker on high-rise buildings. I’m a former high school and college football quarterback. I have continued to stay in shape with daily workouts plus my job keeps me slim.

In spite of saying so myself, I’m one hot fucking gay dude that is verified by my many friends including my fuck buddies. I stand 6-feeet tall, weigh a hard 180-pounds with light blue eyes, curly sandy blond hair, sexy dimples with a strong set jaw, perfect white sexy teeth and smile plus a thick cut 8-inch tool that my fuck buddies love to suck.

I have no trouble finding a hot dude (gay or straight) dude for a wild one night stand usually at a gay bar in Chicago. I prefer serving as a bottom welcoming a huge cock up my man pussy but am happy to top if the dude is solely a bottom.

About two weeks ago I met this big stud at my favorite bar and we went to his pad for a night of steamy man sex. But before we went at it, we had a couple of strong drinks that made me even hornier as we watched a hot gay movie with this sexy dude  who was laying on a hotel bed on his stomach with his big hips and ass up in the air waiting for a dude. The hotel door opened and a really big guy entered, unzipped his pants, pulled out a giant dick and began to fuck the hell out of the ass of the guy lying on the bed. After dumping his load in that wet ass, he zipped up his pants and left. No words were exchanged. I’d never seen such a hot scene that gave me an idea that I’d like to try the same thing..

Two days ago I arrived in Las Vegas for my annual vacation and was horny to try that same scene in the movie. I registered at an upscale hotel and looked through the ads for a gay service. I found one that agreed to send a big hot dude to my hotel with the instructions to enter my unlocked door as I lay naked on my bed for a fuck. I gave the service my credit card to the guy on the phone and paid for the service. I showered and cleaned my ass and I had asked that the guy arrive around 9:00 PM. I was on my stomach by 8:55 PM.

As I lay there in total heat and wild anticipation, I could not believe that I heard the door open exactly at 9:00 PM. I was nervous as I felt shivers run up my spine and my cock began to stiffen under me as I heard the dude’s loud footsteps approach the bed. What kind of dude was he; did he have a big cock and how hard was his cock at that moment?

I heard him unzip his pants, drop his pants and briefs and use his cock it sounded like to begin to masturbate. I assume he poured lube on that tool as the sound gave out a slick jerking.

Holy fuck soon I felt his soft warm hands pull my legs far apart, he knelt down and applied something wet to my ass that had to be lube, Then in a manly voice he made me wild for him as he said: “Hey you fucking horny whore, you damn slut and fucking bitch, you want daddy’s huge cock up that ass chute man pussy, don’t you? Look at that blond hairless pink ass puckering begging for Daddy’s big man meat. I’m going to give you the best fuck of your life, you slut. You will never forget how great my giant cock feels and no man will ever satisfy you the way Daddy is going to do. You’ll bust a nut like never before. Are you ready for big Daddy’s awesome cock?”

Never more horny or aroused or with a harder rock hard cock, I answered: “Oh yea man, fuck my ass, give me your seed. Make me your bitch.”

I thought I might shoot my load at that moment. I’d never desired a cock up my ass more than at that moment.

I felt his wet lips and tongue begin to rim my ass like no man had ever done before. He sucked, spit and licked my ass with what felt like a huge warm thick tongue and he used his lips to kiss my eager ass. He must have spent at least five minutes cleaning my already clean ass as I heard his sloppy mouth eat my ass as if he was having a bowl of ice cream. I was delirious for his dick deep in me. He also took a finger to fuck me and open man pussy for his cock.

Then it happened as  he stood up, he poured what had to be gobs of lube on and in my ass, I felt what had to be a giant mushroom cock head part my ass lips an slowly that cock head spread my ass channel until his warm balls were tight up against my skin and his huge log of a cock was deep in me. Soon his big piss slit was oozing precum wetting my inner ass. His pulsating cock was balls deep in me. 

Oh my god, he took tha big tool and ran it all around the sides of my ass walls and pound that massive wood deep and hard into my warm prostate. I heard him grunting like some wild beast as he sped up fucking me harder and harder. I’d never felt such a powerful use of a cock to drill my ass. I experienced both pain and pleasure as that cock moved around my wet ass and yea he took time to pull that dick all the way out of my ass and then plunge it deep back in my ass over and over. My own cock was throbbing and ready to shoot.

When  I thought a fuck could never get better, this fucking dude flopped his big heavy body down on my back and began to use his powerful hips to fuck the hell out of my ass as I felt his sweaty body covering my body. He began to breath heavy and holy shit he began to kiss and spit on my neck. WOW, then he took his arms and hands and put them in front of my face on the bed. Holy fuck, he was an awesome big black dude with what I realized was a huge black cock inside me. Yea, this was my first black cock in me. I was so hot and thrilled to be getting fucked by a huge black dude for the first time.

I was wild with lust and carnal desires knowing I was taking that big black hot cock in me with such ease. He began to really kiss and suck on my neck as he drove that massive dick deeper and deeper up my ass channel. By that time, my ass was soaked with his unusual amount of precum.  My own cock was throbbing and hard as a steel rod. I knew he was leaving marks on my neck as he sucked and left bite marks on my neck.

I got my money’s worth as he serviced my big man pussy for some 30 minutes while I begged him not to stop. “OH FUCK YEA BIG DUDE, FUCK ME HARDER, GIVE ME THAT BIG HOT BLACK COCK, BREED ME MAN, I WANT YOUR THICK CUM IN ME.”

That must have set him off as he said: “YEA MAN, YOU FUCKING SLUT, YOU’RE A TRUE WHORE, MAN. I BET YOUR FUCKING PUSSY HAS HAD MANY FUCKING DUDE’S COCKS UP THAT ASS BUT NEVER ONE LIKE THIS BIG BLACK ONE? GET READY FOR MY SEED, YOU SLUT. I’M GOING TO FEED YOU A HUGE LOAD OF DADDY’S PROTEIN CUM.”

With that I felt his cock head swell, his breath became rapid and with in seconds, I felt his cock erupt with a volcanic burst after burst of his man seed deep in my ass. His semen flooded my ass that caused my hard cock to explode under me on the bed sheets. 

When  he was spent, I felt and heard him pull his still hard cock out of m y ass, I assume he pulled up his briefs and pants and I heard him zip up and he left the room with a loud sound and closed the door. I lay in a pool of my own semen and just relaxed savoring the fuck of my life.

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NOTE: I join BillyC  to thank and praise Bjorn for his tireless long hours for making  this awesome site so great and fun for all the viewers. Bjorn you are GREAT. By the way, your new photo on here is so sexy and hot. We love you.

Chapter Five: Interlude One

His story complete, and Michael snoozing in a deep, exhausted sleep in his arms, Abazar ran the tip of a finger around the young man’s nipples, first one and then the other. Michael sighed and trembled in Abazar’s arms, but he didn’t awake. Slowly Abazar ran a hand down the marble-smooth skin of the young man’s chest and belly and then on under the waistband of his drawers, raking lightly through the downy hair of his pubes and then cupping his balls and cock. Abazar leaned down and kissed a nipple and then started to tongue down Michael’s sternum.

But he stopped, with regret, disengaged, rose, and moved over to his own cot.

It was entirely too easy. No challenge, and he didn’t want to take the youth that way. He wanted Michael prepared and open to him.

Later, as Michael was coming out of his deep sleep, he heard cascading water and for a moment thought that he was free and standing near a sylvan waterfall. But he opened his eyes to the same oppressive stone walls.

He was still hearing the water, though, and as he looked to the source of the sound, he sucked in his breath and almost forgot to breathe again.

Abazar was standing in the corner, under the cistern, and was pouring water over his body. He was naked and it was his nakedness that shocked Michael so and made him start almost to hyperventilate. Abazar was hung like a horse. He stopped the flow of the water and soaped his body up. Michael’s eyes traced every movement of Abazar’s hands as they floated over his curves and crevices and centered between his hips. He was soaping up a cock that was impossibly long and thick and began to engorge and curve up toward his belly as he worked the soap into it with both his hands.

Abazar stood three-quarters to Michael, seemingly oblivious to the young man watching him work his body—seemingly. He had never looked more like a satyr to Michael than now—now that he was naked, and Michael could see that, below the waist, Abazar was almost as heavily pelted as the satyrs in the drawings Michael had seen. And when he turned his head toward Michael and tilted it down and gave the youth a secret little smile, while still working his cock with his hands, Michael felt sensations he’d never felt before.

“I hope you had a good nap—you slept nearly the whole day away,” Abazar said, never losing his smile or the grip on his monster cock.

Michael’s eyes moved with great difficulty from Abazar’s cock to the high window, where he saw that the daylight had, in fact, fled the sky. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what made me so sleepy.”

“It’s the tension. The not knowing, not being in control. It’s to be expected. Don’t worry about it. Sleep is an escape in our situation. I slept nearly the whole time too.”

Abazar had rinsed himself off and was patting his body dry with his linen drawers, after which he put them back on. They clung to him and were almost transparent in their dampness—little use at all in covering anything up. He slowly walked over to Michael’s cot and sat down beside him, whereupon Michael popped up in embarrassment and started to wander aimlessly around the cell, hugging himself with tightly embracing arms as if it were cold in the room, although it was closer to sweltering.

“I suggest you clean yourself as well—while there’s still enough light to see by. I believe it’s important to not let yourself go to spoil, even in situations like this. And I think it will calm you; you seem so keyed up.”

“Perhaps later,” Michael said with a shaky voice. “Perhaps when it’s a bit darker. I’m not used to . . . I’ve never . . .”

“Don’t be afraid of me,” Abazar said in his most soothing voice. “We have been thrown together, but I would never want to do you harm—and I will do whatever I can to protect you. I’m sure you will be free soon. I’m sure your family won’t let you stay here much longer.”

“My family,” Michael said bleakly. “I have no family to speak of. And those that I have are like vultures—pecking at me, wanting what I have and doing all they possibly can do to get it. I don’t think I’ll ever get out of here.”

“How can that . . . ? Ah, yes, I see . . .”

“What do you see?”

“Ah, nothing. But you mustn’t fret. I’m sure there’s someone. That gray suited—”

“Sir Cecil?” Michael burst out with snort. “Yes, I suppose I do represent an investment by him. But someone who cares? No.”

“I doubt that. I would say you are a very valuable young man myself. But then, I suppose we are in Cairo, not in America. Why, here in Cairo you would be seen as a Greek god. Here, what you could give would be worth—”

Abazar couldn’t be sure Michael was even listening to him now. The young man was pacing and still hugging himself tightly. His voice was reaching a hysterical pitch in what was one of the longest and most revealing of his statements to his cell mate.

“They all look at me with hate and disdain. They want what they think I have, yes, but what do I have? What have I ever—?”

“This is ridiculous,” Abazar said, and then, with a voice of authority, as if instructing a child, he continued. “You are coming unglued. That’s the last thing that will help you. Come, sit. I will massage your shoulders. You have to do something to calm yourself. I won’t bite.”

It was the authoritative voice that did it—and Abazar was quick to take note of that. Like an obedient child, Michael came back to the cot and sat down, turning his back to Abazar, who started to work the muscles.

“I feel how tense you are. Tell me about your family, about your life. It will help you relax.”

For the next hour, as Abazar rubbed his back in strokes that turned almost into caresses, Michael poured out his woes of being an only child of cold, calculating, ambitious parents, who had been killed in a railroad accident, of his grasping relatives who remained, and of the highly structured, limiting life he’d had—until they were almost in total darkness.

He came back to the reality of how much he was opening to Abazar—much more than he intended—at the sound of the flap in the door opening, and food trays sliding across the floor.

“We eat now,” Abazar instructed in the voice of a parent. “Then you clean yourself, while I do some exercises to keep fit—it should be dark enough for you now. And then I will tell you another story. That will soothe you, and I predict you will sleep again like a baby. Tomorrow they will release you. I’m sure. That Sir Cecil sounds like a powerful and resourceful man who will not let you languish here for long.”

They started to eat, but Abazar only ate half of his and pulled Michael’s away from him half eaten as well.

“I’m not finished,” Michael said in surprise.

“Yes, you are,” Abazar said, the voice of the parent. “We aren’t active in here—can’t be as active as we normally would be. You need to eat, but you need to regulate yourself too. Go clean yourself now. And I will exercise my body. It would be best if you did so as well.”

As Michael rose and moved tentatively over toward the shower and privy corner. Abazar picked up the trays of the half-eaten food, placing Michael’s on the floor in front of the food delivery flap in the door and taking his own over and placing it on the floor at a corner of Michael’s cot. Then he stood and stretched out his arm and leg muscles and moved to the center of the chamber.

Abazar gave a little grin of amusement, as he saw Michael huddling in the corner, now clothed in darkness, and rinsing and then soaping and then rinsing himself, being careful not to expose himself. At the same time, however, he was surreptitiously watching as Abazar did some sort of dance-like movements in the middle of the cell to stretch and work his muscles—nothing strenuous. But he talked in low, soothing tones as he worked his body, explaining to Michael what each graceful movement did and how it kept his muscles well worked.

Michael watched in fascination but also in increasing embarrassment, as he felt his body tense up and his cock going hard. This shouldn’t be happening to him. He had no idea what was happening to him. He just knew that he couldn’t stop watching Abazar’s graceful, sensuous movements—and that his gathering thoughts about Abazar were ones he should not be having.

He also was growing groggy. There was a ringing in his ears and he felt lightheaded. Not as bad as he had felt after the earlier meal in the day, though. Just in a haze and sluggish.

Abazar had to repeat himself and raise his voice for Michael to hear him. “Come over to the cot now, Michael. I will tell you another story.”

Michael walked toward his cot, slightly stumbling, and mumbling to himself. He knew there was something he was forgetting, but the voice of authority had called. And he wanted to hear the story. What he really wanted was the massaging to start again. That had made him melt.

What Michael forgot when he left the shower was to put his drawers back on, so he came to Abazar dazed and naked.

He sat with his back toward Abazar and Abazar started to gently work the youth’s back muscles, while in low, mellow tones, quiet enough that Michael had to arch his back toward the storyteller, bringing his ear close to Abazar’s lips, to catch it all.

Michael’s senses were suspended in some sort of nirvana, where he could hear Abazar’s words and where he could feel what Abazar was doing with his hands—and knew that he’d been taught men didn’t do this to other men. But that he didn’t care, that he was enjoying sensations he’d never felt before and that he was exhilarated in his inner being that it was Abazar who was touching him. That all of his defenses were down.

Thus, when, during the telling of the story, Abazar’s hands moved around to Michael’s chest and belly, Michael just sighed and leaned back into Abazar’s chest. He lay there, murmuring and moaning, and watching his own cock stand straight up and start to throb. Listening to Abazar, getting the gist of what he was saying, absorbing it, as Abazar’s hand slowly glided down and wrapped itself around Michael’s cock, and stroked him, with Michael’s instincts kicking in and his pelvis slowly rolling to the rhythm of the stroking until with a little cry and a sigh, he released his seed, watching it burble up between Abazar’s fingers and dribble down his hand.

All the time, Michael was observing, disconnected from his body in all but the sensations of the calming milking, as if this was happening to someone else entirely and he would wake from the trance never having had this experience.

While Abazar continued speaking, spinning his little story out of the air.

Chapter Six: The Secret of the Aura

Called from his hunt among the mortals below, the minor god Sirith soared into the firmament of the gods on his golden chariot as the wails of grief from the maidens below at the sudden loss of the mighty club they rode in the night screamed up toward him. The coming year would be one of famine and crying in the houses of the Earth-bound wives whose wombs would remain flat and barren no matter how much plowing their husbands gave them—because mere mortals did not understand that when their husbands took them, the golden god Sirith must be taking them too to seed their wombs.

Of all the minor gods of the firmament Sirith was the most handsome, the only one who could have any woman he wanted, goddess or mortal alike. His was a perfectly formed visage, skin white as alabaster marble, his head wreathed in golden-white curls, his lips full and sensuous.

But in his strength was also his weakness.

As he entered in the alternate universe floating above the mortal Earth, everything in mirror image of Earth but manifoldly more magnificent, he heard the hiss and kicked with his heels at Apep, as the snake monster attempted to entwine him and pull him into the world of the in-between. Barely free of Apep, Ammit the destroyer swung his might club at Sirith’s head, and it was only the hand of father god Ra, slicing through a beam of light, that stayed Ammit’s hand as Sirith rose to the circle of the gods.

“Why did you call me, father god?” Sirith asked as he bowed before the sun disk throne, Ra’s consort Hathor at his right hand and the teasing vixen, Bastet, purring at his left. Standing off, and watching the proceedings were Geb, the god of the Earth, Thoth in his wisdom, and Anubis, god of the passing over.

“You have been among the maidens of Earth too long, Sirith. You have lost something, not learned something, and it is sinking you into danger. Did you not feel the bite of Apep and the glancing blow of Ammit’s club? You are becoming weak, losing your protection. You must make amends.”

“How so, father god Ra? I feel as strong as ever. I can cover Egypt in a night and seed the wombs of countless women. Horus, the pharaoh god, has sung my praises. The banks of the Nile are teeming with new life. The land of the Egyptians becomes ever stronger, its armies ever larger, from my nocturnal visits.”

“Look around you, Sirith. What do you see that the other gods and goddesses have that you do not?”

Sirith looked, but he did not see. He felt Aprep rising through the clouds and wrapping his coils around his ankles. But Sirith kicked free—and he looked harder.

“Is it the brightness?” The gods and goddesses within Sirith’s vision did indeed have a presence that he did not. “Is it the aura?” he asked.

“Yes, it is the aura, Sirith,” Ra answered. “When you have been too long with Earth, your aura fades. If it were not for the reflection of my light on your golden curls, you would have no more now than a mortal. Your aura is your protection from the world of the in-between and its scavengers, Ammit and Apep. You must regain your aura.”

“And how do I do this, father god Ra?” Sirith asked. He was beginning to realize the error of taking his pleasures too long with the mortals of the Earth.

“You must attain the ultimate pleasure, the ultimate love, the ultimate coupling,” Ra answered. “Then and only then will your aura shine brightly and protect you.”

“I don’t understand. I already know the heights of pleasure with the maidens of earth.”

“You have no idea of the ultimate coupling, the ultimate pleasure, my son.”

“Please then, tell me what I must do.”

“The path to ultimate pleasure and the secret of the perpetuating aura lies through earth, wisdom, and death leading to the heat of the sun.”

“And that means—?” Sirith started to ask. But when he looked up to the sun throne, Ra and his full retinue were gone.

“It starts with earth, the father god said,” Sirith muttered to himself. “And so, back to Earth and a renewal of the nocturnal visitations.”

There was great rejoicing and an abundance of expanding wombs when Sirith returned to Earth, but everywhere he went snakes assailed him and monsters flailed at him with their clubs. Clearly this wasn’t the answer.

Sirith flew up to the firmament and went straight to his mother goddess, Hathor, who greeted him with a broad smile and open thighs—no goddess being able to deny the plowing golden shaft of the fairest of all the minor gods. But Hathor had no answers for him, only clutching hands trying to hold him fast inside her. Ammit rose into the firmament and chased him to the chambers of Bastet, the cat goddess, purring in her basket of silver weave. Sirith took refuge and sought answers between her trembling thighs, but Apep, who had coiled around the basket raised his head and flicked his fork tongue at Sirith, and Sirith fled back toward the earth.

At the gates of Earth stood Geb, the god of all that was below.

“Earth?” Sirith thought. “Could Ra had meant to start with Geb?”

Geb smiled upon Sirith, having heard his thoughts as clearly as if he had spoken them.

“Yes, it is true. I am the first step to regaining your aura. The first gate is through me.”

“Through you? But how so?”

“You must lie with me. You must let me breed you. And then you will be on the first step.”

“A god with a god?” Sirith asked in shock. “How can this be?”

“This can be a greater coupling, a greater pleasure, a nearer approach to perpetual aura than lying with any female, Sirith. You only doubt it because you have never experienced it. Gods know no bounds, no limitations. You have limited yourself. And this has weakened you—and faded your aura. Come bend over and spread your legs for me.”

Sirith cried out as he was entered for the first time, and then he moved into realms of pleasure he had never experienced before—and felt a slight glow about him after Geb had moved his staff in and out of his golden channel and buried his seed deep inside the minor god.

“Such is earth,” Sirith said when Geb was done with him, “and I see and feel the deepening of the pleasure, the warmer feeling, the glow. But what of the next step, wisdom?”

“You know where to find wisdom, Sirith. And after you have, you will not need to ask such a question again.”

Sirith found Thoth, the god of wisdom, who, fortunately, was conferring with Osiris, god of the dead. Apep and Ammit wept with frustration, as Thoth and Osiris gathered Sirith between them and shared his golden channel, thus granting Sirith, highly favored and loved by the gods, two rises in level of understanding and aural protection in one, shared seeding.

Now Sirith didn’t have to ask where he needed to go. The father god, Ra, master of the sun, granter of the ultimate understanding, the ultimate pleasure, and the epitome of coupling was sitting on the sun throne, awaiting Sirith, knowing all, knowing Sirith was coming to him. And such was Sirith’s blond beauty that even Ra himself was trembling in anticipation of an even higher level of pleasure than he had ever experienced. His powerful staff rose up from between his thighs, Sirith, now having gained the wisdom of what he must do, knelt before the throne and opened his mouth to the staff of Ra.

For forty days and forty nights Sirith gave Ra’s staff suck and the heavens opened up to higher levels of understanding and pleasure. And Sirith’s aura appeared and expanded. For another forty days and forty nights Sirith’s channel rose and fell on Ra’s staff as the sun shone ever brighter and Sirith’s aura shimmered. Upon the release of Ra’s precious seed, a great flood rushed down the Nile, purifying the land of the plague that had beset Egypt in Sirith’s absence.

Knowing all now, Sirith realized that there was a balance to be had. In the night he descended on his chariot onto the land of the pharaohs and bestowed his precious seed on the women of Egypt who were ripe for it. But by day, he was in the firmament, at the throne of the father god Ra, rising and falling on the sun god’s staff—and experiencing the ultimate of pleasures that he would never have known if he had not grasped life and lived it to the fullest.

And never again was he touched by Apep or Ammit.

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Twice a week, Ted, Jim, Henry and Mike, all in their late twenties, meet at the community gym for cardio exercises and indoor track running before playing racquetball, tennis or squash. Ted and Henry like to wear black shorts over their bulging white jockstrap, whereas Jim and Mike prefer Fastskin speedos that enhance their manhood.  

Today Ted and Jim played tennis against Henry and Mike, ending up losing 7-5 and 6-4. Jim is a sore loser and was pretty aggressive when they all entered the locker-room. “Why can’t you move your fucking ass, Ted? You have to learn how to play with me, damnit!” Ted just smiled, thinking of the various ways he could play with the most handsome guy of the quatuor.

Jim took off his t-shirt, threw it into the locker, pulled out a towel, and started to whip Ted’s ass which offered no resistance. This triggered him to pressed his partner with one hand against the next locker, and punched his firm round butt with the other hand. Ted now had a grin on his face; Jim could even hear him moan, so he got closer to bite his ear lobe.

As they were getting undressed, Henry and Mike watched this sensuous confrontation. Mike was getting a hard-on and first tried to cover it with his towel, but seeing that Henry was discreetly massaging his genitals snugged in his sweaty jockstrap, he approached him, lowered the towel to reveal a fully erected cock. Henry could not resist the divine offering and started to suck his partner’s bazooka.

By that time, Jim had pulled down Ted’s shorts, kissed his rear end, and was now licking his full jockstrap. He had also removed his speedo, revealing a hot trouser snake that he whanged in Ted’s crack. Jim was not ready to engulf his weapon, he first wanted to get Ted’s ass hole moist and wet. No need to use a gel when you have a luscious wet tongue.

Rimming is often the first step to fucking because it sexually stimulates the person who is to be penetrated. According to Gay Demon’s dictionary, rimming can be done in homosexual, heterosexual or bisexual relations; in porn, however, it is most often referred to as a gay sex practice.

Ted’s ass is completely hairless; his anus or rose bud is amber, like the gemstone. Its natural beauty attracts Jim who executes a “full-tongue-length-inside-swirl”. He then pulls his partner’s balls down near the anus and licks from the ass hole to the testicles and back a few times. Jim’s next step consists of pulling Ted’s cock down and licking from the anus up to the balls and over and around the head of the dick and back down again to the rose bud.

By now, Mike’s dick was fully lubricated and pounding with rhythm Henry’s back door nicely framed by the jockstrap elastics. This sport attire has the advantage, amongst many gay men, of stimulating their libido. A jockstrap is also an invitation to slap your partner’s butt and squeeze his nicely wrapped balls. But why have duo fun when you can have foursome pleasure?

Ted and Jim, who were already sucking each other in an athletic 69 choreography, joined Mike and Henry on the large locker room bench. It was almost a contest of who would suck the biggest engine, who would rim the tastiest arse hole, who would fuck the tightest buttocks.

Mike’s pulsing shaft did not lose time in satisfying Ted’s hungry ass hole. “Since the day I met you, I’ve been dreaming of fucking your appetizing butt. My mighty pistol can now shoot a full load of ammunition in your faggot bumhole!” As for Henry, he just wanted to suck Jim’s meat thermometer and taste his milky nectar. “Every time I see you in the shower, I wonder how thrilling it would be to have your pecker grow and explode in my mouth. Now is my chance to transform fiction into reality. Fuck my mouth, pound my skull, give it to me, I so badly need your hot lunch!”

When four horny guys meet in the arena of male pleasure, there is no limit to their performance. In the case of this virile scenario, not one tender word was exchanged. No place for emotions, just raw pleasure. No sweet kiss on the lips or caressing hand on the face, again just brutal satisfaction. A man’s world can be a gay demon’s haven or heaven.

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

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My career was over. Retirement was coming up and I couldn’t wait until it would start at last. Since I live alone with my dog and cat I decided to sell my house in the city and buy me a nice little cottage in the outback up north to spend the joyful “third half of my life”. But I had no intention to become a monk so I opened an account on a gay-site, just to make some new contacts and, if I was lucky, to end up with a date so every now and then. Because some of my body parts were certainly not ready to retire at this stage.

On a quiet Friday night I was surfing on that site. It wasn’t exactly mesmerizing I found. For a guy who goes for slim and even thin the pickings were limited. One beer barrel on legs after another went by, not really the kind of guy I fancy. But after about an hour I hit a picture that really had my attention.

It was a boy that called himself Micha. I studied his picture again and I felt if I was hit by lightning. He had a very delicate face that showed a strange mixture of female and male features. Especially his full lips gave it a female expression. They looked as if they were made for the sole purpose of tender kissing. The true highlights in his face were his two dark-lined, beautiful dark eyes that sparkled with vigor and strength, even on the picture. He had long raven-black hair that was longer on one side of his face than on the other. Around his neck was a leather collar with small metallic, glistering pins. I’m no specialist on youth cultures, but somehow it gave me the impression he was in the gothic scene. But it nothing to diminish the pure beauty I saw on the picture. I clicked his home page open and was rewarded with more pictures of his face but also of his torso . It was exactly the kind of body that has always turned me on and still does: it was slim and delicate but beautifully proportioned in all his androgyn and skinny appearances. I looked at his age…22….and the place he lived: not exactly around the neighborhood, some big city down south. So I decided it would stay the phase of sweet dreams. It made no sense to send him a message. Apart from the distance, I could have been his grandfather. He was a dream and an unattainable one on top of that. So I got off line, took a book and a nice whisky and with that the image of the gorgeous boy from the big city slowly faded from my mind.

About a week later I was on line again. It was on a quiet Friday evening. I was bored and , yes, I was horny. I had forgotten the whole the whole boy down south.

So it surprised me when I saw he had been on my visitors list and, even better, had sent me a message:

“Hi, for an elderly man you look very cool!!”

I admit: it stroke my ego. But it also caused suspicion. What was a beautiful young man of 22 looking for with an old fool of over 60? It was one of those things I had not been able to understand, not for years and especially not now. I checked if I had missed his message some days ago or if he was on line. He was on line!

“OK”, I thought, “ Might as well send him a reply then!” But I’m always quiet straightforward so I started typing:

“Hi, Micha, thanks for your sweet compliment. It makes me shy. But was does a beautiful boy like you search for an old man?”

He replied astonishingly fast, a lot faster as I had expected and it baffled me completely:

“I’m looking for a father figure!”

It took me some time to think that one over, not knowing what to write back. Only after a few minutes I wrote:

“Father figure? Don’t you think I’m more the granddad figure in your case?”

It sounded cynical, even acid although it was not my intention. I regretted it immediately to have sent that message. It was not to get him in my bed, but the boy had given an honest reply to my question and my return question looked as if I wanted to ridicule him. But things were done: I had pushed the “Send”-button, so he would read it and draw his own conclusions.

He wasn’t impressed and sent a long message in return:

“So what? I’m not particularly interested in age. For me it is all about that a sweet man gives me what I didn’t get in the past: warmth, love, security and respect. And give the same things in return to him. And if I read your profile right, you are the man who can give me that and is able to receive it from me”.

Again my reaction was limited to the “Stupid Questions Department”:

“But what about your actual father?”

He answered with the speed of lightning:

“Oh, that one? Hey, the fool fucked my mother, made her pregnant with me and disappeared over the horizon”.

Wow…it confused me. I was thrown back and forth between suspicion and total fascination for this boy. If he wanted to play games with me, he had things prepared very, very well. Every word he wrote looked like being the truth. His answers were too fast and too spontaneous to be a ploy. There was only one question left lingering in my head, so I wrote to him:

“I’ll be honest: I’m also looking for sex! And in my opinion it can’t be that the foster-granddad has sex with his grandson!”

There was a very short reply at first: “Hihi”

But then followed:

“And why not? Isn’t sex the highest form of expression of love, warmth, respect and security?”

I was dumbfounded. I had no idea what to answer and that is what I wrote him, that I wanted to think about all he had written. He answered he understood, but that he truly hoped that we would stay in touch. To be honest: I had no other intention. Because he was becoming more and more fascinating and interesting with every line he wrote.

In the weeks afterwards we chatted regularly, so every now and then several hours on a day. I told him what had to be told about me. But being only a moderate guy and not some unique person that was done pretty fast and it was impossible to fill hours with it. He told me, that after his father has disappeared, his mother had done the best she could to be father and mother at the same time with the unavoidable result that she failed in both of them. He said it without anger or hate. She had to fail, preoccupied with making a living as well. Some food had to come on the table. So she worked irregular shifts as a nurse in the local hospital, leaving the small Micha to sink or swim for long periods of time. During the days he walked around in the desolate old industry town, full of unmaintained buildings, a key of their apartment on a piece of cord around his neck. And when it got too cold to be outside during the winters he spent hours in a department store or in the library, not to buy or read something, but just searching for a warm place to be.

His story hurt me. There were many parallels. Yes, for other reasons and in other circumstances, but I had also been a kid with the key of the house around the neck. It only made me to appreciate him more and more, especially his frankness and his kindness of character. Nothing he wrote contained an accusation to his mother. She had just done what she thought the right thing to do, had given every effort and then some more on top of that to give him love and care and he was grateful for it. At least she had taken care of the fact that he would finish school and not drop out of it. But he then added that he had no idea at all what he wanted to do with it.

While chatting about a lot of things the evenings were timeless while time was rushing by at the same time like the wind. After about four weeks he suddenly wrote:

“You know, I want to get away from here. It is so sad and depressing in this town. Every election the politicians promise better times for us but it seems they forget about us directly after they have gained their nice parliament seats”.

I reacted spontaneous, without thinking and wrote:

“Then come over here!”

For a long time there was no reply. I just started wondering if I had gone too far this time when after a full five minutes an answer became visible:

“Are you serious about that?”

My reaction was short and to the point: “Yes!”

Again no immediate reply came. Then followed a hesitant:

“I don’t know how to get there. I have no car”.

“The train maybe”, I suggested.

“Yeah, I just checked. But I have no money for the ticket”.

I couldn’t help it. After all this weeks of chatting suspicion crawled back in my mind. Was it in the end only about the money? That old fool would pay him for the train ticket: “Just transfer the cash, granddad, and you’ll never hear of me again”? Honestly, I found it hard to believe. I needed a time out to think and that’s what I wrote him. We agreed that I would come up with a solution next evening and that I would be on line again.

Actually, I already had the solution. I happened to be an on line client with British Rail, so it was a simple truck to book a ticket on his name and on my account. Yes, the money would be gone as well if he didn’t show up, but at least he had no cash to squander around, just a useless train ticket if he had no intention of coming over in the first place. But it was more to find out for myself: did I really want this?

It was late when I went to bed. Lots of questions popped up in my mind and had to be answered. Was it that I was just looking around for a young, beautiful, sexy and seducing playmate in bed? Or was there more? Was it that I, as a childless man, had unused fatherly feelings that I wanted to give to him, he who needed them so much? Or had I simply fall in love on line? Was that possible, fall in love on line?

No matter what the reasons were, I decided to do it. If it wouldn’t work out I could always buy him another train ticket to go back.

Next evening I was on line, as we had agreed. But he was there as well. My first message was pretty business-like:

“Do you trust me enough to give me your full name and e-mail address?”

The answer followed in seconds: “Yes!”

“Then give it”.

I had his full name and e-mail address within 10 seconds. It made clear that his name was actually Michael, but that his friends always called him Micha. I explained to him what I was going to do: book a train ticket on his name and my account and mail it to him so that he could print and use it. We spoke about the day and the time the ticket had to be made out and after a pretty short chat I went off line and started the booking with British Rail. I had the ticket within five minutes on my mail and pushed it through to his mail address. The only thing I had to do now was just wait if he would indeed show up on the agreed day.

At last the day of his planned arrival had come. Out of pure nerves I was at the station way too early. I smoked one cigarette after another and glanced at my watch every five minutes. To make things worse, the local slow train was delayed for fifteen minutes. But finally the old train rolled into the station.

I was at the parking lot in front of the station and saw a couple of passengers coming out of the train. He was not one of them but that didn’t mean a thing. The actual station building obscured my view on part of the train. Some people came out of the station. Part of them start looking for their own pick up cars, others walked to the bus stop. I was totally uptight, there was still no Micha.

Only after some minutes he finally walked out of the building, packed with a rucksack, a bag and a guitar case. I recognized him immediately: he was as beautiful as he was on the pictures on the site. OK, we won’t mention the t-shirt that was washed too many times, the torn jeans that were tucked in old army boots and a black leather jacket that had been seeing better days as well. But his face and especially his eyes…they were gorgeous! His whole body had the appearance of a deer. He descended the station stairs with the moves of a young panther. I couldn’t suppress a broad grin at the thought that the gothic scene had finally also invaded a sleepy province town in the Northumbrian Borders.

When he saw me he put his luggage on the ground and walked towards me to give me hug and a wild, passionate kiss, devoid of any embarrassment.

“Well, here I am…finally!” he grinned.

I looked at his luggage with a smile and asked:

“How long did you plan to stay?”

Still with an infectious grin on his face he shrugged and answered:

“I don’t know. We’ll find that out later. If you’re fed up with me you can always throw me out!”

I loaded the luggage in my car and we started driving home. Not a word was spoken during the trip. He was totally enchanted by the surroundings which were an unknown to him, coming from an industry town. Here it was only green moors with small ponds of water and an abundance of waterfowl and other birds. The only thing he said during the drive was:

“It is beautiful over here. No, …it is like heaven over here!”

When we finally arrived at my cottage I couldn’t avoid a stormy welcome from my dog. It is the kind of dog who wants to become friends with every living thing on earth, especially when they are visiting.

But finally we sat down and I asked him:

“Tired?”

He gave me an exhausted smile and said:

Yeah, what do you think after sitting in a train for seven or eight hours?”

I made tea for us and after that was finished he said:

“I could do with a shower”.

So I showed him the shower and gave him a towel. I then politely withdrew into the living room. I had to make every effort to restrain myself, because the thought of this exceptionally beautiful boy naked under the warm water of my own shower aroused me enormously, but I managed to behave myself. I didn’t want to push him and just give him time to rest and to get used to his new surroundings.

It turned out he had other ideas. After about fifteen minutes I heard his footsteps in the hall and he walked into the living room, stark naked and a seducing smile on his face. It was a breathtaking sight: his long wet-glistening black hair stuck to his light cheeks and his frail body moved towards me in an unprecedented delicate and elegant way. His big, semi-hard smoothly-shaven cock swung left and right with every step he took.

Without saying a word he sat on my lap and started to kiss me vigorously. He stopped for a short moment, looked at me mischievously and whispered with a smile:

“But I’m not that tired!”

I held his head in my hands for a long time, while we kissed and tongue cushioned. I almost swallowed the delicious looks in his eyes, couldn’t get enough of it. Slowly my finger tips caressed his neck and his frail shoulders. His skin felt as if it burned with excitement.

“Where’s the bed room?” he asked panting.

“Then you have to get up, sweetie”, I said laughing, “Otherwise I can’t bring you there”.

He rose and I took him by his hand, guiding him slowly towards the bed room. With lust and a lot of expectations I watched him following me, slowly turning his hips while walking.

When we got in the bed room I was naked as well in a very short span of time. I lifted him in my arms, marveling at how light he was and laid him gently on the bed, lying down beside him. I looked at his small, delicious nipples that rose like two small erotic hills from his chest. I licked and sucked them, causing a voluptuous groan.

My hand went over his soft belly towards his cock that had in the mean time swollen to his combat-ready length of 8 inch. I was very sure I wanted to taste it. So I whispered in his ear:

“Make me young again and let me taste all your young, impetuous semen”.

Only a moan was given in reply.

I took his damp cock head in my mouth and started to suck it tenderly. He reacted with excited panting and moaning, the muscles in his belly contracted convulsively. His head rolled left and right with closed eyes.

It didn’t take long. With a deep groan, coming from the inner parts of his body, he ejaculated everything in my mouth. I tried to swallow it but it seemed it had no end. It was years, even decades ago, that I had tasted young sperm. It was when I had been eighteen myself but it was still as delicious as then.

“Ooooh, sweet granddaddy”, was the first he was able to say, “This was so incredibly good!”

I looked with warmth into his gleaming eyes while his sperm dripped along my chin.

When I finally managed to swallow it all I laid beside him. He looked at me with languorous eyes and said softly:

“Make me yours in a very sweet and tender way. I’ve longed for that during all this weeks!”

I felt some doubt: could I really do that to a boy his age?

“Please….?” he begged with a soft voice, putting on a touching pout.

I rolled him over on his side, his back turned towards me. I kissed his buttocks that felt like two soft, beautiful peaches, put them apart and caressed his pink boy’s cunt. Slowly I opened him up, making him ready to receive me. The tip of my tongue tickled the anus. Slowly the sphincter opened up and I was able to put my tongue a little bit inside him. I tasted his internal juices that were that delicious that they catapulted me into a rage that I hadn’t felt for a long time.

His crevasse opened up more and more. The inner pink tissues smiled at me invitingly. He twisted like mad and gave me a hard time to follow all the movements his ass made.

I decided he was opened up enough and snuggled up behind him, skin to skin. Expectantly he pushed his buttocks against my crotch in a gesture that expressed his desire: “Take me, take me!!”

Very slowly I went in. I had never experienced such a narrow corridor. Each already totally aroused nerve cell in my dickhead was provoked to the extreme and had no relief, not even for a macro-second, from the intestinal wall that fitted as tight as a narrow velvet glove, stroking incessantly over my tool. Without thinking I kissed and licked him continuously in his neck, while I started to thrust inside him. I was unable to postpone the explosion for long. The already maximal excitement only increased to a level that I was only capable to spray my juices in him, roaring with pleasure. The whole white mass disappeared in him. Well, mass? I’m sure it wasn’t as much as he had given me. The price of age, I guess.

I didn’t want to leave him, go out of him. Actually, I felt as if I never wanted to go out of him for the future. But nature has its own laws so after a while the corpus delicti slipped out all by itself, limp and harmless. With beaming eyes and a smile that made me dizzy he turned around and whispered:

“Now I’m yours!”

“And I am all yours, sweetheart”, I whispered, still panting and catching my breath.

He snuggled up very, very close to me. The only thing I could think of is to put my arms around him and stroke his soft skin in a soothing and caressing way.

We laid against one another for hours and hours. We kissed a little, stroked a little, said sweet things to another. We enjoyed each other’s smell and warmth and I stroked his long black hair, while his head lay on my breast. Suddenly he said:

“I hear your heart beat. The heart of my own sweet granddad that I’ve always wished for!”

After the physical intimacy it was now the time for the emotional bonding and intimacy. It was even more intense and a headier wine that the sex before it. In those hours we forged a strong emotional bond that looked like it would endure the ages.

He never went back to that industry town down south. A week after his arrival we picked up his other things by car and he moved in with me. Yes, there were some years that he was away during the week days but he came back every weekend to spend it together. That was when I enabled him to study at the academy of music. But for the rest we were inseparable, the old retired man and the gothic grandson from the south.

Was I his granddad or was I his lover? I hardly found the question worthwhile bothering and neither did he. We were happy together, me in my role as granddad and lover, he in his role as grandson and lover. And isn’t that what is life about? About being happy together?

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Bruce and Jed, 18 years old, were close friends, best friends to be exact, but they never shared a secret fantasy, not until a Friday afternoon that would change their life. Bruce’s parents had left for the long weekend, not knowing that they were giving a golden opportunity to their son. He had hurried home after school, not noticing that Jed was following him at distance…

Bruce rushed upstairs to his bedroom, without locking the front door, and quickly changed clothes, choosing briefs one size too small and skin tight jeans. The briefs molded perfectly is manhood and the feel of thin faded denim always gave him a hard on. Bruce took a hit of popper and started turning the pages of a gay jack-off porn magazine hidden under his mattress. The first pictures showed cute college guys in their underpants fondling their jockey pouches. The area around their erect penises was soaked. They had obviously just ejaculated into their briefs.

By now, Jed has sneaked in the house and tip-toed to his best friend’s room. The door was half-opened, so he could hear Bruce moaning while masturbating himself through what he called sex-jeans. “May I join in?” Bruce turned around to see his best friend standing behind him, rubbing his own sizable bulge in tight denim.

– I can’t believe it, Jed, we’re into the same things.
– What things?
– Well, the porn pictures are about guys in briefs and jeans just like the ones we have on.
– You’re right, Bruce. You know, when I wear them like this, I can shoot two or three times a day
– I guess we are both queer for boys, queer for underpants, queer for tight denim.
– It’s weird that there are two of us “that way” and we are best friends.
– Hey, buddy, if we weren’t queer, we would not be best friends.

Bruce had attracted to Jed since the first day they met in primary school. By grade 8, he was having wet dreams triggered by the thought of sleeping with his friend who happened to wear what the teacher called “indecent jeans”. Why? They were the best kind!

Jed was a slim Irish lad with red hair, blue eyes, a freckled face and a trim physique. Bruce was also a well-built teenager, dark blond, peaches and cream complexion. Wearing tight Levis was the discovery of their adolescence.

– Oh, Jed, feeling the underpants rubbing my cock and balls against the denim is always an invitation to jack off.
– Yeah, the feeling is so intense that I can explode without a helping hand.
– I’m sure you want mind rubbing crotches with your best friend…

Bruce invited Jed to join him on to the patio and into a large jacuzzi. They immediately felt the bubbles tickle their balls and stiff dicks. They embraced in a luscious groin massage, their weapon trying to poke a hole through the thin denim. Jed suggested that it would be nice to have a closer look… in bed. They reluctantly removed their sex-jeans and positioned themselves for a 69 underpants choreography. To had spice, Bruce switched his brief for a jockstrap. Another hit of popper and Ted was rimming his partner’s rose bud, tongue fucking him with frenzy. Bruce was eating his friend’s crotch, feeling the hard canon leaking into his briefs. This and Ted’s twisting tongue made him explode in a sweaty jock-pouch.

The next day, Ted and Bruce headed for a male porn movie arcade. As they walked past the maze of cubicles, they noticed a kid hanging out next to an open door. The second time around, Bruce felt a hand squeeze hid bulge and Ted felt a firm hand on his sex-jeans. An invitation for a threesome could not be more direct. More surprisingly, the kid was a school mate called Doug.

– We heard that you like to hang around the locker room and to bury your face in the jockstrap bin.
– Hum… yeah! Guy’s briefs and cum in Levis also turn me on.
– I guess we’re a trio who enjoys to entertain the same fantasies. Care to join us at my place? My parents are gone for the long weekend.
– Sure, if you can guarantee me boy-to-boy pleasure…
– Don’t worry, you’re in for a treat!

When Doug took off his jeans, he was wearing a Bike jockstrap which landed in Bruce’s face, triggering a delicious jerk. Ted grabbed the kid’s round ass and started to push his tongue in the succulent fuck hole. It didn’t take long before Doug gave a stifled FUCK cry and Bruce felt the jock-pouch filing with jism. The two 18-year old best friends immediately creamed their sex-jeans. Feeling a guy’s jockstrap, brief and skin tight jeans drove all three of them so wild.

But the best was to come on the holiday Monday. Doug revealed that two guys from the football team were always parading in the locker room, exhibiting their bulging jockstraps and slapping each other’s butt. There was no doubt in his mind that all the ingredients were present for a great orgy in perspective…

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

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Hi, my name is Nate. For the past six years, I have been the athletic trainer for the athletic department at a local community college. As a 30-year-old former high school and college wrestler myself at 150-pound weight category, I’ve maintained my slim kept body. In college, I majored in sport’s medicine and after college I did two more years of study to be a sport’s trainer before I took this job at the community college.

I’m one horny active gay dude but always have separated my personal life from my professional job as to sexual activity until three days ago. Of course my favorite athletes are the wrestlers who make me very horny. Wow, what hard bodies they have.

Three days ago around 4:30 PM the college wrestling Coach Jones came by my training room with his sexy 150-pound wrestler Tyler who was dressed in his tight practice uniform who was dripping in sweat from the workout. Coach Jones had Tyler get up on the massage table and then Jones turned to me and said: “Hey Nate, Tyler just strained his thigh while wrestling around with our 190-pound dude. See what you can do for that strain as we badly need Tyler for our dual match in a week as he is our best star.

I had lusted after hot Tyler all year but remained professional. He had such a hard muscled body, sexy coal black hair, deep brown eyes, smooth almost hairless dark soft skin and a very impressive big cock and large balls that I had seen often in the gym showers. 

As I instructed Tyler to take off those practice pants and jockstrap, I became horny as hell but controlled my urges as I asked: “”Tyler now that you have removed your clothes show me exactly where the pain is in that thigh.

“Here Sir, see just inside my left thigh parallel to my sweaty balls–right here.”

I began to sweat and have shivers up m y spine as I put my hand on the sore spot. Holy shit my cock began to swell up against the table where I could hide my growing hard on. My hand began to tingle as I softly rubbed that very warm thigh and the smell of this real stud, I asked: ” Well Tyler is this the spot?”

“Oh yea Sir that is it. It hurts a little. But I don’t think it is very bad. Why don’t you just begin a mild massage of my thigh with your sexy warm hand?”

WOW DID THAT JOCK SAY WHAT I THOUGHT HE DID?  WAS HE GAY?

I began a gentle rub of that area which was such a beautiful hot thigh surrounded by an amazing crotch.  Soon my outer arm accidentally rubbed up against those warm big balls. That caused Tyler’s cock to begin to swell and soon he was rock hard with an 8-inch hard on. Shit within seconds that piss slit of his penis dripped precum. Was Tyler gay? Holy fuck, I had become stone hard and my cock was throbbing like never before. I was able to hide my steel hard cock under the table but my face was blood red and my cock was leaking precum.

Fuck at that moment I knew I had lost all control and all caution melted when Tyler looked into my eyes with such desire and he became personal as he said: “Well Nate, you can see that I am really turned on. I confess that I’ve lusted after you all year. I think I like older men like you who I’m sure know how to really make love to a young virgin like me. You’re so sexy and  I know you are gay. Why don’t you help me out?  Take hold of my hard dick and fuck yea give me an awesome blowjob like I hear you give all those dudes you pick up in the local gay bar. The rumors are that you are the best cock sucker in town. I’ll never tell if you will suck my cock and make me come.”

That was it. I took off all my clothes releasing my aching cock. I took hold of that young 19-year-old dude’s big warm hard cock at the base that was pulsating full of blood while Tyler lay flat on his back on the table with his sweaty sexy legs spread wide. I began using my hands to wildly masturbate that young hormone filled horny dude’s young tool. Tyler moaned and grunted with pure pleasure as I felt his blood filled big dick pulsate hard in my hand.

“OH FUCK YEA NATE, take care of my needs to cum. I’ve not shot my load since last night. I usually cum at least three times a day. I’m one horny dude all the time. Suck my cock, give me a mind blowing blowjob–be the first guy to take my cock deep in that throat. I’m tired of just jacking off to a porn flick and thinking of you. I want to come in your mouth and have you eat my seed. Please suck my cock.”

Holy shit that was beyond any lust I’d ever had before. I lowered my lips and tongue on that incredible young meat and began to suck that dong. I used my lips to kiss that warm leaking mushroom cockhead, ran my tongue around that big head and fuck yea I sucked more precum from that piss slit. The taste was a mixture of sweet and salty flavors but it was so wonderful to taste such a young supply of semen.

While Tyler begged me to swallow his big cock, I was not yet through playing my sex game of driving this young horny dude crazy with lust for me. I began to run my tongue up and down that cock shaft, down on his balls, took those balls in my warm mouth, sucked hard on that skin just below his balls and just above his ass entrance driving Tyler wild with desire. Tyler became out of control as he bucked his hard hips and crotch up into my face as he moaned and begged: “OH NATE, I’ve never been so horny and lusting after a man. You’re even better than my friends said you would be. Don’t stop. I want to come in your mouth. Please swallow my dick.”

Now that I had Tyler just where I wanted him, I took that red-hot cock deep in my throat as we both were overcome with carnal desire for each other. As I wildly sucked  that amazing cock, I bobbed up and down on that fresh meat, I came all the way off and back down deep on that tool for a long time that made Tyler dizzy with such strong sexual feelings. Then I really went for a big move as I sucked his dick, I drove one finger deep in his soft young velvet ass and took my other hand and used my fingers to play with his rock hard nipples. This innocent young man became delirious with urges that caused him to become so wild that he began to reel his body so wildly across the table. It became almost impossible to keep him on the table.  

I admit at that moment I had become so horny and wild that I decided Tyler needed more than just a blowjob as did I also. Now that I was naked, I came off that throbbing dick and got up on the table, lifted Tyler’s sexy feet and legs up on my naked shoulders and began to lower my rock hard missile to that puckering virgin ass for a hard landing near that young pussy.   

Just as my cockhead touched his ass entrance, Tyler in somewhat of a shocked look on his face asked: “OH NATE, are you going to fuck my virgin ass? You will be the first guy to stick a cock in me.  Please be gentle with that huge cock. Yea go ahead and take my virginity away. OH FUCK  I’M SO HORNY AND TURNED ON. ARE YOU ABOUT TO MAKE ME YOUR BITCH?”

With one hard thrust I managed to break that outer ass ring and slowly drive my eager cock deep in this young virgin. After slowly sliding my steel hard cock part way in and part way out, it was not long until his amazing silk like soft tissue feeling ass accepted all of my cock. It was then I sped up driving my cock all the way in and out over and over while Tyler bucked and moaned  like a pro. After several minutes of rough fucking  the most awesome ass that had ever hosted my cock, Tyler discovered he could use his tight ass muscles to squeeze my cock like a vise.  It was then that we had reached the level of complete ecstasy. It was just a few more seconds when Tyler and I  reached a point of no return. I exploded with the most powerful orgasm of my life in that young pussy  and holy shit Tyler burst his nuts spraying his thick cum all over his stomach and face without touching his own cock.  I’d never watched a porn flick this hot. My cock continued to leak spurts of cum in that pussy for the longest time.

Finally I pulled out my cum covered cock from that pussy and had Tyler suck it clean and taste another man’s cum for the first time. I used my tongue to collect his cum off his body and fed it to him.

But Tyler betrayed me that very night when he told his roommate Bo about what we had done. Big Bo a 190-pound wrestler on the team came to my athletic room the next afternoon and said: “Hey Nate, I know about you and Tyler. I want you to suck my cock.”

“Listen Bo, I don’t know what Tyler told you but the answer is a definite NO.”

“Well Sir, you have no choice in the matter. You see, Tyler told me what a fantastic fucker you are and if you don’t cooperate and fuck me, I’ll have to report what happened to Coach Jones. You need to take my virginity just like you took my buddy Tyler’s virginity. You see at this point the secret is between Tyler, you and me. By the way, I have a huge 11-inch cock and I want to see if you can take all it down that fucking throat of yours. Maybe some day I’ll fuck that slut ass of yours but right now you’re going  to fuck me.”

“OK BO, but no one else can know and we will go to my pad tonight for sex.” 

“That’s fine Nate and I promise you only have to have man sex with Tyler and me for the rest of the school year. We’re going to be your fucking bitches. Maybe later we can have a three way.”

The muscle-burning peddle up into the base of the Thompson Gap had helped. I’d had to think about what to do next—what to think about and what not. Mom wanted me to stay a couple of more weeks before leaving for Wake Forest for my first year there. The university coach had suggested that guys trying out for track and field couldn’t show up early enough to start working out and giving the coaches a look at what they could do. I had my own reasons both to stay and to go.

The encounter the last week of school at the Steven Academy in Benton had me tied up in knots. I knew what I wanted, but I’d fought against it this long. Damn Coach Wilson. I thought I had this licked—that it didn’t matter. But he’d brought it right back to the surface again. I wanted to stay, to maybe see him again, with the surprise factor gone. What would I do with the surprise factor gone? I don’t know. Could I go off to the university without knowing?

I knew I probably should. I probably should peddle right back home, throw my gear into my car—I already was packed up—and drive off to Winston-Salem and continue choosing to be normal.

I paused at the side of the road at the Green Hall grocery store. It was all sharp uphill from here, up to the Thompson Reservoir and the swimming hole in the stream feeding that, near the top of the gap, where I liked to go and swim and think.

Maybe I needed a break—and a drink—a sugar-laden drink to give me the energy to peddle on up the hill. I peddled over to the porch leading up to the country store and propped it against the wall. The cooler was just inside the door. I opened the top and reached in for a Coke.

“Here, let me buy that for you. You out training on the cycle?”

I froze, but then turned. “Coach Wilson,” I said. I hadn’t seen him since that day of the last meet at Stevens. But that was burned into my mind—the encounter in the locker room afterward. The sudden, unexpected kiss. The hand on my jock pouch. Me staying there with it a moment too long, in the kiss and with his hand on my package, before I pulled away, grabbed my clothes, and left the locker room. Hearing him laugh and muttering, “I knew it,” as, in embarrassment, I escaped.

“So, can I buy you that Coke? And then maybe we should go outside and around back. We’ve needed to talk.”

I stood there, dumbly, as he paid for our drinks, brushed past me, and left the building. Equally dumbly I followed him around to the back of the building. He’d taken the Coke out of my hand as he passed me, so I followed him. And he’d been my coach; I was programmed to do what the coach told me to do.

At the back of the building, he was facing me. He’d maneuvered my back against the wall and he stood in front of me. He handed me the Coke and I took a big gulp. He took a swig of his too, but his eyes were boring into mine.

God, he looked good. Still. Of course it had only been four weeks since that encounter in the locker room. He’d been a Marine before becoming a geography teacher and track and field coach at Stevens, and he looked it—tall and wiry, muscular, rugged looking. A buzz cut, and a “no nonsense” look in his steely gray eyes. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, the veins in his arms popping out on the surface because they had no fat to run in. His hard chest was the same way, I knew. He liked to go bare chested when he coached—as an example for his guys of what they were striving for in development. That had had an arousing effect on me. Somehow he had figured that out—and taken advantage of it.

I had fought against it. I was fighting against it now. He raised an arm and planted the heel of his hand in the wood to the left of my head. I wondered if he could tell that I was trembling.

“You’re trembling,” he said.

“Sorry, Coach,” I answered, like it was something was doing wrong and could control if I wanted to.

“I didn’t see you again. I hope you weren’t avoiding me.”

“Uh, it got busy those last days of school,” I responded, lamely.

“Did you talk to anyone about it?”

“About what?”

“You know what, Chris. Did you talk to anyone about it?” His addressing me by name jolted me into the here and now. This wasn’t some sort of hypothetical. He was challenging me to face the here and now—with him.

“No, Coach.”

“Do you want to talk to me about it?”

I didn’t answer.

“You know what you want, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what I want, Coach. I just know it isn’t right.”

“It’s natural. There’s no right or wrong to it. You want it. You want it now, don’t you?”

“No, Coach. I don’t want it. I’m leaving for Wake Forest now. I’ve got trials for the track and field team. There’s a scholarship on offer if I make the team—even the reserve squad. I need to just get on with my life.”

“I agree you need to get on with your life, Chris,” he said, leaning in to me, whispering it into my ear. “You need to be honest with yourself—honest about what you want. You can’t study or be any good on the track without being honest with yourself in this.”

He kissed me on the neck. I moaned. “Coach, no, don’t. I don’t—”

“Yes, you do,” he murmured.

I didn’t get any farther, as he moved his lips to mine and we were kissing and I moaned. He had lost the Coke can and I let mine fall to the ground too. His free hand went to my basket. I couldn’t help myself. I jutted my hips out from the wall and widened my leg stance, giving him full access to fondle me. And he groped me, becoming increasingly intimate. My moans deepened and my crotch began to move against his hand.

We froze at the sound of a car pulling up beside the building, just around the corner from where we were. We heard car doors open and two “good ole boys” chatting about the hunting they’d just done up in the mountains. Their voices became more distant as they stomped up onto the country store porch.

The interruption had been enough to cause the coach to pull his hand away and take a step back from me, ready to look like we were just talking if someone came around the corner. The heat was off, at least for the moment.

“We have to talk,” Wilson said. “My van is over there, on the other side of the lot. We can talk there.”

I turned my head, my eyes focusing on a beat-up blue delivery van over in the shadow of the trees well away from the store. “Just talk?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. He just looked hard at me.

“No, I don’t think so, Coach,” I answered. “I’m on my way up to the Thompson Reservoir.”

“To the stream above that? To the swimming hole where you guys go to skinny dip?”

“Yeah, I’ll be gone soon. One last go at the swimming hole. I need to think.”

“You don’t need to think, Chris. You just need to do. Come into the van with me. We can’t pretend there’s no attraction—that you don’t want it as much as I do. We need to talk about this situation.”

“There can’t be a situation, Coach. I’ll be gone soon.”

“We’ll just talk, if that’s what you want. We can’t be seen out here. We need someplace we can just talk.”

* * * *

Inside the truck, Coach in the driver’s seat and me in the passenger seat, Wilson said, “There’s a lever at the side of seat, Chris. It reclines the passenger seat. Do it.”

“You just wanted to talk,” I said.

“Do it,” he barked. “You knew that wasn’t what a just wanted.”

The voice was that of a Marine, commanding. I reclined the seat. He got his right arm around me as I did so, turning me toward him, as he twisted toward me in the seat. He moved his face to mine and took my mouth in a kiss. His left hand went to my basket. I groaned, but I didn’t resist him. He pressed his tongue between my lips and opened my mouth to him.

His hand was moving under the waistband of my skintight riding shorts, pushing the waistband and the jock pouch under my balls. I was exposed to him. I struggled against him momentarily, unsuccessfully and half-heartedly trying to fight him, but he was too strong for me and my desire was too strong for me as well. His hand encircled my dick and started to stroke me and I collapsed under him. He pulled off my mouth, laughed, and said, “Yeah, you want it.”

“Coach, don’t,” I whimpered, but then as he continued stroking me, I groaned. “Coach, oh, Coach.”

“Yes?” he growled.

“Yes, I want it. Don’t stop,” I murmured, defeated. He moved his hand lower, brushing my shorts and jock lower down my legs. When he moved the hand back up, it didn’t come up to my cock. It came only as far as my crack, under my balls. He placed the heel of his hand under my balls and pressed his index finger at my hole, moving it around the rim.

“Coach, oh, Coach,” I whimpered.

“You want this too?”

“Yes,” I responded, my voice ragged.

He pressed the finger inside, penetrating me, and I shuddered and began to pant.

“Widen your stance,” he commanded. “Give me more access.”

I complied, murmuring “No, no, please.” But he knew that my widening my stance was a “yes” and he began to move his finger in my ass. His finger found and rubbed my prostate. I’d never had such arousing feeling before. I felt my cum stirring in my balls. The sensation of need did nothing to help me resist him.

“Yes, yes,” I whispered.

“You want me to do it . . . to go all the way.”

“Yes,” I whimpered, the word coming out in a moan despite what my mind was screaming that I didn’t really want.

He laughed, and his lips took possession of mine again. He pulled away from me, pulled his finger out of my ass, and pulled my riding shirt over my head. He’d been stroking my right nipple with the hand of the arm he’d had around my back. He took time out to glide his other hand over my torso.

“So, young, sweet, fresh, supple,” he murmured. I shuddered under his touch.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I whispered. I had no control over what I was saying. It wasn’t what I wanted to say.

His hand worked its way down my chest and my belly and into my bush. My arms were paralyzed. They just hung there at my sides, useless. He stroked my cock again for a moment and took my hand in his and put my hand where his had been encircling my cock. He obviously wanted me to stroke myself, and I did. His hand went under my balls again and he was back to moving his finger inside me. All of my muscles gave way. He felt me go to putty, and his finger moved deeper inside me. I was stroking my own cock and rising and falling with my hips on his buried finger. He kissed his way down my torso.

“Oh, shit. Oh, fuck,” I murmured as he opened his mouth over my cock and moved his lips down the sides of the shaft. For several minutes there was nothing but heavy breathing, with me occasionally murmuring, “Yes, yes, yes,” and moving my hips with the rhythm of him going down on me as he sucked me off.

He pulled off me and stroked me the rest of the way off as I tensed and came close to—and then past—ejaculation. When I had shot my load, he sat up, unzipped himself, and fished out a thick, long, erect cock. I’d known he was hung. He’d shown it to me before in the showers at school.

“Move over here, in my lap, facing me. Ride my cock. You’re open enough for me now.” He was pulling me toward him, raising and turning me.

“No, please. I can’t. I’ve never . . .” I whined.

Nodding to the interior of the van behind us, he said, “OK, I’ll help you. I’ll take care of you. I’ll do it all. Let’s move to the back. I’m gonna do you right.”

I turned my head and looked into the back of the van. A small stack of padded blankets covered the floor and restraints were attached to the walls on either side.

“You don’t have to do a thing,” he repeated. “I’ll do it all.”

I panicked. “No, Coach. Not that. Please.” He raised my hips off the seat in pulling me up and I managed to jerk up my riding shorts and jock, get the passenger door open, and grab for my shirt as I rolled out of the van. I immediately was on the move, stumbling toward the country store. I pulled my shirt on as I walked. He didn’t follow me. At the front of the store, I pulled my cycle off the wall, mounted it, and, without looking back, peddled it hard on the road rising up the side of the mountain, into the Thompson Gap, up toward the reservoir.

* * * *

Charged with adrenaline, I peddled like mad up the crease in the mountains south of Ashville. When I reached the Thomson Reservoir, wedged into a hollow, which helped service the water needs of the town of Benton below, I just kept on peddling. Normally, I would have had to stop there and rest, but I didn’t this time. Up I went, past the parking lot to the reservoir, higher up in the gap of the mountains to where I could see the highest of the treetops in the crease of the mountains. There was another parking lot there, a smaller one than the one at the reservoir. There weren’t any cars parked there. Not many people came up here.

I propped my cycle against a tree, stripped off my sweaty bike jersey and micropolyester Craft bike shorts and my shoes, hung them on the bike to dry, and found the nearly invisible trailhead that would lead me up to the Pools of Daniel, a series of three pools cut in the rock below falls on the stream running down the mountain and feeding the reservoir. An old wooden sign gave the name, based on the family that had once lived up here, according to speculation. The pools, though, were mostly a secret known to the students of the private Stevens boys-only high school down near Benton. The boys came up here to skinny dip and cavort. I came up here, now only wearing my jock strap, to swim in the pools and think about my future—and the complications of my present.

There were three pools, the one at the top and the one at the bottom shallow. The one in the middle, the broadest one, overlapped by lips of flat rock, was the deepest one. You could dive into the pool from this level or even dive in from the top of the falls into the pool and not worry about touching bottom.

I dove in immediately upon approaching the middle pool and swam vigorous laps from one side to the other, forcing everything out of my mind, wanting to think about nothing at all until I was utterly exhausted and my body had recovered from the shock of the ice-cold water. Then, with difficulty, I hauled myself out of the pool and lay on my back on one of the flat slabs of rock hovering over the pool. I dozed off for a few moments, but only for a few moments. When I woke, from a reverie of what I hadn’t done in Coach Wilson’s van—from a dream of being in his lap and riding his cock. I had my right hand under the waistband of my jock and I was stroking myself.

My ass was twitching. I wished that I had brought the device. I was keyed up. I sought relief and release. When I’d told Coach that I’d never done it, I’d been technically correct that I’d never had a man’s cock inside me. But I did own a battery-operated dildo and I had used it before.

I had been so confused and frustrated for so long. Emotionally, I wanted to go with men—to be submissive to them, but I had understood the difficulties and heartbreak of living that sort of life. I wanted to be in the mainstream. I had thought I could fight it—or at least keep it to myself and my own solitary devices. Coach Wilson, the power and beauty of his body and his flirty and, eventually, overt propositioning, had thrown me for a loop. My body wanted him.

I had ached to give myself, fully, to him back in that van. If he’d told me one more time to come into his lap, I would have done so. He was thick and long, but I had practiced, and he had taken time to open me up. I thought I could manage him with less initial pain than pleasure. It had been when he’d wanted to take me in the back of his van and bound me that I had balked from fright. I didn’t want to lose control. I wanted to be able to walk away from it at any time it was too much for me. It was all too much for me.

What would I do now? What if we came together again? I had been so easy for him—right up to the point of commitment to full possession. I’d even told him that I wanted it—that he could lay me all the way. I had pulled away from that not from total innocence of fear of the pain, but from continued indecision—and because he’d wanted to tie me up and take all control away from me.

I lay there, stroking myself and thinking of Coach Wilson—and of some of the other men I had looked at. If he approached me again, would I go with him? I had to admit that I probably would—not if he wanted to bind me and do anything he wanted with me, though, I didn’t think. So, I was all packed at home. And the coach at Wake Forest would be happy if I showed up there tomorrow or even this evening. The only thing that kept me here any longer was the prospect of going over the hurdle with Coach Wilson.

So, what did I want to do? I thought of the coach and of his body, as I had seen it in the showers and how I had seen some of it today. His body was hard, and muscular, and cut. Thought of his thick, long erection made me moan. I thought of running my tongue along the lines of the veins that bulged out on his arms and torso. And as I thought of that, I thought of him embracing me, setting my entrance on the bulb of his cock. Of pulling me down, down, down on the cock and the lifting me and pulling me down again.

I even pushed myself to the limit and thought of having my wrists and ankles bound and him fucking me, helpless, from behind and above like a dog. I can’t claim that that didn’t send me even more over the moon in arousal.

I ejaculated into the pouch of my jock strap. Pushing myself up off the rock, I took two steps to the edge of the rock overhanging the pool, and dove in. I swam across the pool and then back and then I pulled myself up on the rock again, stretched out on my belly, and dozed off to sleep, dreaming of being helpless and under a muscular man’s control. I’d crossed some sort of barrier, because I was now thinking of being bound and having no control over what the man did to me—and not just any man. It was Coach Wilson who was conjured up in my dreaming.

* * * *

I woke with a start from having my jock strap shoved into my mouth. The man was on top of me. He was strong, muscular. He wove his arms under my pits, closing his fists on the back of my neck, trapping me in a full Nelson, and forcing my cheek to the cold surface of the smooth rock underneath me.

“Up on your knees,” he growled in my ear. It was the voice of Coach Wilson. I wasn’t the least bit surprised that it would be. I drew my legs up, planted my knees in the smooth, but hard, rock underneath me and watched him plant his foot to the left of my thigh as he rose up on his feet, giving me room to raise my tail in the air, which I did, responding to his command. His leg was unclothed. I was sure he was naked. I was positive his cock was free and in erection because it went from poking me in the small of my back, to running up and down in my crack.

He suspended the cock play to restrain my wrists behind my back with leather leads so that, even though my tail was waving in the air, my weight was on my chest and shoulders. Then he restrained my ankles together as well, after which he returned to slapping his dick against my buttocks and running it through my crack and across my hole.

And then it was positioned, and he was grunting at the effort to force it inside me. But I opened to it and he was in without too much difficulty. In some ways it was like the dildo, but in other ways different. The real cock was more pliable and was throbbing. The dildo had been inert and I had controlled what it did, when it did it. I had no control over the coach’s cock, which seemed to want to be inside me as deeply as it could get as fast as it could get there. The real cock was thicker than the dildo too.

I struggled against him, realizing I was chaffing my cheek and chest and bloodying my knees, but it was no use. He was much stronger than I was and he was crazed, determined to have me. He was mounted high on my buttocks, using the leverage of his feet to manage strong, long thrusts deep inside me, followed by a withdrawal almost to the surface and then a long slide again. The jock strap gag muffled my cries but not my deep groans. His mouth was close to my ear. His was murmuring dirty talk about how nice my body was, what he was going to do with it, and how long he’d wanted to do this, had planned to do it. His breathing was ragged and noisy. He was taking me like an animal.

It lasted for no more than five minutes—this time. He’d been in such heat that I think he could have come just from the sensation of entering me, but he’d stuck with it. I had come too, which he’d noticed as he’d had a hand under my belly, stroking my cock while he fucked me.

We held there, in position, him inside me, still half hard, both of us breathing heavily. I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to. He had me in a close embrace. He was still slow stroking my cock and was fondling my balls.

An unnerving sense of relief flooded through me. All of the indecision was gone now. It no longer was arguing with myself on what I was going to do—what I was going to let Coach Wilson do to me. Whether I was going to go with men. Whether I was going to let them put their cocks inside me and fuck me. Whether I’d let the man bind me. It was over now.

But of course it wasn’t over. I was cooling down. He was shuddering like he wasn’t finished—and he was far from finished. He was muttering. I could hear him muttering, “Shit and fuck.”

The sense of relief was folding into a sense of uncertainty and disappointment. Hadn’t he liked it? I had found it deliciously exhilarating and liberating, despite the pain I felt where my body parts had been chaffed against the rock. I had been fucked at last. And it had be OK. No, better than OK. And, strangely, it had given me a feeling empowerment, even though I’d been bound. An authority figure—my track coach—had wanted me so badly that he’d lost it like this and taken me like an animal in heat. But now he was acting like I had disappointed him. Had I not done it right? Were there responsibilities of the bound submissive in sex that I hadn’t done. I could hardly breath he had me so controlled. I don’t know what else I could have done.

“Sorry,” he whispered in my ear. “Next time I’ll last a lot longer. I’ll give you a real good time. I’ll fuck the shit out of you.”

“The next time” rang through my brain.

But then we were both on alert. We heard voices on the trail and sounds of crackling of the underbrush.

“Fuck,” Coach Wilson growled. He quickly released my restraints, sprang up, pulled me up as well, and dragged me off into the bushes by the pool. He dragged me a couple of dozen yards. We came to a patch of ferns under a big oak tree, where he pushed me down on my back, slapped my legs open, and shoved his knees under my buttocks.

Then we were fucking again. And this time I fucked him back. He pumped me and I went with the rhythm of the fuck, clutching at his biceps with my claws and releasing and digging in to the beat of his fuck. He realized I was going with him and pulled the jock strap out of my mouth and replaced it with his lips. When we’d set a steady rhythm, he started kissing down my throat. I arched my back and his lips found and worried my nipples one after the other. Then, in turn, he straightened his back and I moved my mouth to his torso, tracing the veins running down his hard chest, as I dreamed of doing.

He did it all without missing a beat in his thrusts. He was strong, virile, powerful.

“Yes, yes! Fuck me! Do it! Take it all! Do me hard and deep!”

He did me hard and deep.

Realizing where I wanted to be headed with my mouth—that I was going to give it all to him—he pulled out of me and turned onto his back. I followed the veins down across his flat belly and into his bush. He grabbed the back of my head and controlled my movement as I opened my mouth over his cock and sucked it, gagging, but managing to take most of it. Before he exploded—which was after I had done so—I straddled his hips, skewered myself on his erection, and rode him to paradise.

This time we’d taken at least twenty minutes.

* * * *

He bound my wrists and ankles again, slung me over his shoulder, and carried me down the mountainside on an auxiliary trail parallel to the main one up to the pools. It occurred to me that it wasn’t only the students at Stevens High School who knew about the pools and used them. My mind went to two boys who had gone missing the previous summer from an athletic summer program camp where Wilson coached, with some mention in the media coverage of the pools, but my emotions were swimming around too much to dwell on that.

When we reached the parking area, there was just the blue van and my bicycle, with my riding gear hanging on it. If the hikers we’d thought we had heard had come from this side of the gap, they had already come and gone while Coach was fucking me under the oak tree—and I was fucking him back.

He set me down behind the van, opened the back doors, pulled the restraints off from my ankles, and growled, “Get in.”

“Get in the van? I have my bike over there. We’re done here, aren’t we?”

“No, we’re not done here,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “Get in the van.”

When I hesitated, he backhanded me across the cheek and I fell into the back of the van. He pushed me further up the floor, climbed in the van, and, while I was still in shock from having been slapped, turned me on my stomach on the padded blankets. I didn’t want to do this, though—it was getting out of control—and I moved to come back up into my bloodied and bruised knees. He pulled a knife from somewhere, though, held it up to my throat, and growled, “Lay down on the padding on your belly.”

Whimpering and murmuring “please” and “don’t hurt me,” I did as he ordered, and he rebound me, spread-eagled with the restraints spreading my arms and legs to the corners of the van enclosure. He stuffed folded padding under my belly to elevate my rump. He shoved my jock strap back in my mouth to gag me. Then he mounted my ass and fucked me hard again. The van rocked back and forth as he took me forcefully and without mercy. I prayed that someone would drive into the lot, see the van groaning on its shocks, and intervene.

But this didn’t happen.

When he was done he sat next to me on his haunches and glared wildly at me while he recovered. I watch him go fully erect again under the attentions of his stroking hand.

“I’m going to unbind you. Don’t fight me.”

I didn’t believe he was done, but I didn’t have any fight left in me. Still when my ankles were unbound, I lashed out at him with my feet, coming close to catching him in the groin, but missing. He backhanded me again, and I fell back onto the padding. I fell where he wanted me, on my back, my arms crossed painfully behind my back as he hadn’t unbound them yet. He redid that, changing the wrist bindings from one side to the other. The ankle bindings now, though, led to the top corners of the van ceiling on either side of the door, so that my legs were raised and spread.

The folded padding went under the small of my back. He knelt between my spread and raised thighs, grabbed my waist between his hands, and pulled my passage onto his cock. Grunting and panting he pulled my passage on and off his cock for what seemed like an eternity. Once again, the van groaned, rocking on its shocks from the power of his thrusts. He was fucking slower now and it was taking him longer to build up an ejaculation. I swiveled my head around, looking everywhere in panic, looking for any hope I could see. There was a tool box beside my hip. The top was open and I saw a wrench lying on top.

Having ejaculated again and gone back on his haunches, he was eyeing me with dull eyes now. I figured he was deciding whether he had another fuck in him or not. He must have decided not. While he was undoing my ankle restraints, he said, “We’ll take a nice little walk into the woods now. I’ll untie your wrists, but I’m gonna tie them together behind your back again.”

I think not, if I can help it, I thought. When he’d unbound them, I reached over, grabbed the wrench and swung it back against his head. I heard the pop when it hit and the surprised expression on his face as he fell over backward toward the front seats of the van. But I didn’t wait to see what the effect of my defense had been. I lunged at the back doors, swung them open, rolled out of the back of the van, and slammed the doors shut again. I turned the handle, hoping that it would lock him inside so that at least he’d have to take the time to go over the front seats to get out.

I ran to my bike, not stopping to pull any clothes on—or even to pull the jock strap out of my mouth—hopped on it, and peddled like hell, barefooted, out of the lot and down the mountain road. I hadn’t gone far before I hopped back off the bike and pulled it into the bushes by the road, struggling through underbrush far enough to know I was well away from the road. I stayed there for an hour or more, recovering and, eventually, pulling my clothes and shoes back on. I reviewed the damage and decided that it wouldn’t stop me from cycling down the mountain.

As I calmed down, I reviewed in my mind what had happened. I couldn’t say I hadn’t enjoyed the fucking. I couldn’t even claim I’d been assaulted without my consent—at least until the action in the van, although that I aroused me too, and I’d come as many times as Coach had during that, what? Hour? Hour and a half? I looked up in the sky through the branches of the trees. The surface of the reservoir was just below me, so it was clear to the sky over that. The sun was low, but it was still afternoon.

I’d been fucked how many times this afternoon? I tried to count but lost count on the individual occurrences. I was fucked now, that was for sure. I’d never have to wonder what it would have been like. Would I let men fuck me again? Yes. I had to be honest about that. Would I go with Coach Wilson again? That wasn’t as easy to be honest about. He had scared me—terrified me there at the end—but he had fucked me good. He had fucked me great. He had fucked me totally. I’m sure I was bleeding from my ass, and nearly every inch of me was in pain. But there was overwhelming pleasure there too. I was going hard now again just at the thought of Coach’s cock churning in my ass.

I took the bike back out to the road, gingerly mounted it, and slowly glided down into the valley, applying the brakes all the way to keep my speed down. I was still shaking like a leaf.

As I passed the Green Hill country store, I saw it in the parking lot—the blue van. It was close to dusk, but there was no chance Coach hadn’t seen me bike past. The van’s headlights came on as I passed. I put the foot to the pedal and picked up speed. He caught me within another mile. I could see the headlights in my rearview mirror. The van was coming on fast, headed right for me. I turned off the road and went down the embankment and into a stand of trees at just the right moment. He caught my rear wheel and we both could hear the crunch of the contact. It was enough contact and I flew off the road enough that he surely thought he’d done for me when I plunged into the thicket. Luckily, I fell between bushes and the ground was soft and marshy.

I was stunned for a moment, and I had new bruises and cuts, but the adrenaline was flowing and I was in a fighting mood. I turned and looked up in the road. I think the van had stopped down the road, but then there were headlights coming from both directions, and he went into motion again and drove off. I pulled the remains of the bike up to the road and surveyed the damage to that and to my poor, abused body—which conveyed back to me that at least I had been fucked good.

An SUV stopped beside me in the road and the passenger window lowered. “Did you have an accident, young man?” a matronly woman asked. “Are you hurt?”

“I’ll live,” I answered, “but could you possibly give me a ride back down into Benton. This bike has had it.” I had had it too, but I wasn’t going to tell this nice woman about that.

As we loaded my bike into the back of her SUV, I realized that the burning question that had sent me biking up to the reservoir to mull had been answered. As soon as I got home, I’d toss my stuff in my car and drive off to Wake Forest University for an early check-in there. I wouldn’t be sticking around here any longer. I’d go with guys again, but not with Coach Wilson.

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