Category: Uncategorized

  • Shopping for Underwear

    As I enter the men’s store, I look around for the underwear section. The shop is an upscale store, which I don’t mind at all. Although I don’t spend much money on clothes—mainly jeans and t-shirts—I tend to splurge on underwear. I feel that my dick and balls deserve something better than the ordinary.

    “Hi. Can I help you?”

    A shop assistant comes forward to me with a big smile. That’s what I notice at first, the straight, white teeth between full male lips. Sales people always carry a plastic smile when they greet customers, except this one is different.

    “Ummm… I’m looking for some underwear,” I say, noticing the second nice thing about the guy, his eyeglasses, black-rimmed, outlining nice green eyes. I’m a sucker for cute male faces.

    “Sure, sir. Please follow me.”

    I smile at the “sir” part. I’m 23 years old, just started a job a couple of months ago and moved to my own place. The guy looks at least two or three years older. But the smile and glasses make him look almost my age. But still, “sir”?

    I follow the guy through the store, which is almost empty at 10 o’clock in the morning. I watch the guy’s backside as he walks ahead of me. I like his butt in the low-cut and tight jeans that he is wearing. Very nice. His torso also looks as if the guy goes to the gym, in a white, buttoned-down shirt, slim-fitted, showing a V-shape. I check myself as I fantasize him naked, not wanting to develop an erection.

    “Anything in particular you are looking for, sir? Any special brand?”

    “Well, there are the Kleins and the Armanis, but…”

    “Hmm. Let me show you these, Sir. We just got them two weeks ago, and honestly I think you will like them a lot.” He drops his eyes and studies my crotch, nodding his head. “Yes, sir. They will be quite a fit.”

    I am thinking, the guy wants to sell. He is certainly on commission. He is reeling me in for an over-priced pair of boxers. But he has just sized me up. Very interesting.

    “What size, sir, if I may ask?”

    I scratch my head. I usually get medium size. But it depends on the fit and the cut. And whether they are tight or loose boxers. And if they have high or low waist. How the fuck should I know?

    “Sir?” The guy is now wearing a smirk.

    “Let me try the medium.”

    “Hmmm. If you say so, sir. But I suggest the small,” again studying my crotch. Things are getting more interesting. Is it a professional look or something different?

    He hands me the two sizes of CKs, one small one medium, that I haven’t seen in stores before and directs me to the changing room. I hate to try on underwear. I keep mine on whenever I have to do so, which is not too often. But today, I really need to treat my balls royally.

    I go into the fitting cabin, pulling the curtain closed behind me. I have not done this before. I usually like the look of the underwear without trying it on, and I buy them. Sometimes they don’t fit as nicely as I have imagined them to do when I try them on back at home. So they end up in the bottom of my undies drawer.

    I pull down my Bermuda shorts, and pull up the medium-sized garment over my jockey briefs. I like the material of the CKs. They are tight-fitting boxer briefs that reach half-way down my thighs, hugging them tightly. They feel soft and silky, but not made of silk, perhaps some new kind of material, also quite thin.

    The assistant is right. I fall in love with the CKs as they feel sexy, but when I pull them over my cotton jockeys, I hesitate. They don’t really fit over the underwear I am still wearing. I look at myself in the mirror and notice that this model of tight boxers is designed to show off a guy’s package, to outline the dick and hug the balls, to stretch around the bubble butt.

    I feel awkward, not knowing what to do. Should I take off my jockeys and try them on? Is this acceptable to the store? I am at a loss as I look at my image in the mirror.

    “If I may, sir,” the sales attendant peeks through the curtain. “You can’t try them over your briefs. They won’t fit.”

    I don’t like the fact that the guy has taken the liberty of looking in on me as I am trying on underwear. It just doesn’t feel right. I swallow.

    “I don’t like to try underwear in a store without wearing one of my own,” I say, trying not to sound too angry or upset.

    “Oh, but that’s ok, sir. We keep a promotion piece so that our customers can appreciate the real form of the garment before they decide to buy one… or more.”

    Of course you do, you jerk, I’m thinking. And then you add the price of each—40 fucking dollars—to the other merchandize and you take the “promotion” ones home, wash them and wear them, free.

    “You mean…?” I hesitate.

    He nods and the smile is back and the white sexy teeth gleam under the store’s spot lights. I wait for him to disappear so that I can take off my underwear. But his head is still there, the curtain around his neck, expecting.

    What the fuck? I might as well. I take off the CKs. I hesitate. The guy is still there. Shit! But we’re guys, aren’t we? Guys shower in the nude in the gym. Guys sit in the nude in the sauna. Oh, man.

    I slide down my briefs very self-consciously. It’s not that I am not proud of my equipment: I know that I am hung. My dick hangs at 5 inches soft and reaches 8 to 8.5 inches hard. My pubes are thick and my balls are fuzzy and tight under my cock. I stand in profile not wanting to expose either my dick or my butt, when I was actually exposing both.

    The fucking guy is staring.

    I pull up the CKs. Fuck! They feel so excitingly sexy against my bare skin, so light, so silky, engulfing my balls just right. My dick responds by lengthening an inch or so. The bulge is very apparent, and very erotic even to me, if I may say so.

    “Excuse me, sir.”

    Damn it! The guy is now inside the cabin with me, pulling the curtain closed behind him. I look at him with a what-the-fuck-are-you-doing kind of look. But his smile is so attractive that I hold my peace and wait for his remark.

    Unabashedly, he reaches out, grabs my elongated dick, and works it sideways, stretching the silky fabric.

    “You have to follow the lines of the cut, sir.”

    The lines of the cut? What the fuck is the lines of the cut? The guy just moved my dick sideways! I usually push it down over my balls. I look at the mirror, and sure enough, my crotch looks much sexier with the outline of my cock emphasized by the thin material, pressing on it, keeping it in place. Even my balls, now exposed, look fucking sexy.

    “Well? What do you think, sir?” The guy is also gazing at my reflection in the mirror, an appreciative look on his face. Is he appreciating the 40-fucking-dollar CKs or my dick and balls?

    I turn around to see how my butt looks in those hot undies. I have firm and bubbled ass cheeks that I am proud of as well. Not too muscled but masculine and sexy-looking.

    “Sir?”

    Now what? You touched my cock. You saw my balls. Now what?

    “Hmmm.”

    “You can’t really appreciate the fit like that.”

    “Like that?” What does he mean? Like what?

    “I mean in the mirror, with you turning around to see. You need to see them without turning.”

    Without turning? And how does the little turd want me to see them?

    “I hope that I am not taking too much liberty, sir. But the way those CKs hug your body, it is not often that we get guys that fit so fantastically into them. May I show you?”

    May you fucking show me? Fuck! Is he going to try the undies himself? Fuck me! He sure looks like he is going to do just that.

    The guy undoes his jeans, and while looking at me, pulls them down. He stands inches away from me, his thighs and legs exposed. I have no idea what is going on in his mind, but I am beginning to like what I am seeing. The guy is stripping for me. And he looks fine!

     Still gazing at me, he pulls down his briefs, also white jockeys like mine. I take a quick breath as I look at his dick and balls getting exposed inch by inch. Fuck! This is erotic, I am thinking, but it’s weird at the same time. How can I just stand there in front of what is now looking to be a very attractive hunk of a guy, with his dick dangling? In a small fucking changing cubicle in a fucking store?

    The guy picks up the small-size CKs. Now he is smiling, his bottom half is totally exposed. I am thinking that he could be an exhibitionist who likes to show off his package, perhaps a nudist. But certainly, what I see is very erotic.

    My dick has elongated further, almost reaching my hip. Jeez. I’m starting to get an erection. The guy is taking his time, as if he deliberately wants me to get excited, as if he is intentionally standing there in front of me with his dick and balls hanging loose.

    The guy is uncut, I have already noticed, also quite hung, also quite hairy down there. And very, very erotic.

    He bends and steps into the CKs, pulling them up. Damn! They look beautiful on him as he adjusts them around his crotch. He turns around and now I am looking at his butt. I am almost delirious. His butt looks so delicious, so round, so firm. I have to fight with my arms and hands to keep them to myself, not to grab those hot buns that are inches away from me.

    My cock is at full mast now and I have to move it upwards against my belly. The mushroom head pokes out of the waist band.

    “See what I mean?” the guy says as he turns around. He notices my erection. How can he not? My fucking cock head is out and throbbing.

    “Ah,” he exhales. “You do see what I mean. Sir.” The smirk is decidedly on his face.

    Ok. The guy peeks in on me. He watches me try underwear. He suggests I strip and show my shit. He reaches and adjusts my dick. He strips in front of me. He shows me his buns. Ok. Ok. This is definitely not just salesmanship. Way beyond commission interest.

    I place my hand on his butt, caress the mound, silky and erotic under my hand. The guy moans. His dick is coming to life. The small-sized CKs are no match for his erecting penis. It stretches and the head pushes through the elastic band sideways at his thigh.

    We kiss. Oh, man! Two guys, in silky undies, cocks throbbing, kissing inside a fitting cabin in a clothes store. Oh, man. Jesus, I’m way beyond horny.

    I press my hardness on his thigh and rub. I know I will be shooting a huge load if I keep this up. I haven’t had my nuts emptied for quite some time, and the buildup in my nuts is killing me.

    We pull apart. I am surprised by the sudden move. I am already extremely horned and wouldn’t hesitate sexing this guy right there, right then. I could just bend him over and fuck his hot ass!

    But I detect a look of apprehension on his face. What is he afraid of? I don’t look threatening. On the contrary: I definitely am interested and ready for some action. My hard cock attests to this.

    The guy, however, quickly takes off the CKs. I again inhale sharply at his equipment. His dick is hard, so I know that he is not disgusted by my embrace. He is certainly turned on. Instead of embracing me back, he picks up his jeans, and pulls them on, tucking his cock inside.

    What? He has not put on his underwear. His jockeys are still on the floor as he buttons up his jeans, trying to adjust his erection sideways. Again quickly, without even looking at me, he picks up his underwear, and stuffs it in his pocket. Now more than ever, I want this guy. I want to pull him to me, strip him down, and fuck him right here in the fitting cabin. Instead, he makes a hasty retreat out of the cabin.

    My cock is out of control. Yes, I will pay forty dollars for the fucking CKs. Yes, I will make sure to fuck the hot sales assistant, if not here in the cabin, then out on the sidewalk, in the damned police station, any-fucking-where. One way or another, his ass is mine, I forcefully decide, fisting my hard and pulsating cock.

    But I finally dress and exit the cabin, pressing my throbbing erection against my belly, full of sex thoughts and desires and lusting.

    The fucking assistant is nowhere to be seen. I walk around the store trying my best to control my erection, now softening a little. He has vanished. Where is the fucker? Damn. I’m very horny. But there is no hot shop assistant waiting for me to sweep him off to my bed and fuck his brains out.

    With a heave, I fork out 40 dollars for the CKs, medium size, and leave, blue balls and all.

    There is no way I am going to let this guy go so easily. Two days later, I come back to the store with the CKs still in their packet, just before closing time at seven in the evening.

    The guy is there. Before he gets the chance to disappear, I walk up to him waving the bag.

    “I guess I would need the small size after all,” I say as I shove the bag at him.

    He looks around furtively, whispers, “Yes, sir.”

    We walk to the underwear section. Oh, that butt! Although now back in the jeans, the image of the firm bubble in the silky CKs is very vivid in my mind, and sure enough, my dick responds by elongating.

    “Would you like to try them on, sir?” he says mischievously. “Or see them on me?”

    “I’ll take them and you can try them on for me at my place,” I say gazing straight into his green eyes through the sexy eyeglasses. “I will have another pair also, medium. You choose the color.”

    Another 40 dollars.

    “I will wait for you in my car across the street, gray Honda. Don’t pull the disappearing act on me again, ok?”

    He nods. “Ok. Five minutes.”

    “Cool. By the way, I’m James.”

    “Ian.”

    We get to my place. I happen to be a tidy person and my small studio-apartment looks just the right place for my intended sex with this hot guy. He walks around the one room with a sofa-bed, checking out the place.

    “I love your place, Jimmy,” he says as I kiss him on the side of his neck, my hand around his waist, feeling the warmth of his body and the silkiness of his skin under the shirt.

    “Thanks, Ian. It’s small but I like it. Easier to keep clean.”

    He turns around and plants a kiss on my lips. I tongue his mouth, forcing it open, pushing inside. His breathing gets heavy and he glues himself onto me. He tastes vaguely of mint and I love it as I suck on his flicking tongue.

    “It definitely does not feel small,” he jests as he presses against me, my hardness prodding his crotch. “As to keeping it clean,” he adds, smirking, ”we’ll have to get it dirty first.”

    I respond by snickering and grinding harder onto him. I already feel extremely hot for Ian. Slowly, I start to strip him. I have seen his body naked from the waist down back in the changing cabin of the clothes store. Now I want to see his whole body. I am almost drooling as I take off his shirt. I inhale when I see his bare chest. He has some hair in the middle and around the nipples, but no trail down his flat abdomen. I touch him, running my fingers along the ridges of his abs. Bringing my tongue onto his super-sexy chest, I help him undo his pants. I can feel his erection as my hand brushes over his crotch. He moans and kicks off his sneakers and steps out of his pants.

    Similar to the other time in the fitting cabin, Ian was wearing white jockey briefs, tented downwards in an arch on the front. I am tempted to tear off his underwear and swallow his cock, but I restrain myself. I want to enjoy this moment second by second.

    Still licking and biting and nibbling all over his chest and neck, I pull down his jockeys and his cock springs out, long and manly and beautiful.

    “Ahhmmmm,” Ian moans under my ministrations.

    I stop for a while and pull back. I am still fully clothed.

    “Strip for me, Jimmy,” Ian moans, standing inches away from me, beautifully naked, beautifully erect. I can feel him shaking with lust. For me!

    I strip for him. His eyes ogle me. He is eating me with his looks. He licks and bites his lower lip as I slide down my jockeys and my cock springs out and up. He starts to stroke himself. I smile at him and wink lustfully.

    As if by mutual agreement, we pick the CKs, medium for me, small for him, and pull them on. I watch him. He has a killer body. His chest hair starts to glisten with beads of sweat. His flat stomach ripples invitingly. He looks delicious enough to eat.

    As on the other day in the store, my dick erects upwards, throbbing. I run my hand over Ian’s chest, squeezing his nipples as he reaches down and fondles my balls inside the silky undies. I press on him. The CKs feel awesome as we rub on each other. Ian is moaning, fully erect, stretching the thin fabric. He has chosen a red pair for him, a yellow one for me. His red pair is already showing a wet spot where his cock head is stretching the material. We entwine with a kiss full of lust and desire. I wrap my arms around his lithe body and pull him closer to me. He puts his arms around my neck, and we kiss and kiss, grinding on each other, almost shooting our loads into the CKs, our body heat burning us.

    Still holding onto his waist, I bend down and nibble on his nipples, lick down his belly, taste his body, as he moans, playing with my hair, impatiently goading me towards his crotch.

    With both of my hands gripping his thighs, muscled and hairy, my tongue finally finds his erection, tracing the length of his manhood. It feels both hard and silky at the same time. I bite lightly on the hardness of his shaft, squeezing on his thighs. He arches his back for me with audible moans.

    My hands rub up and down his inner thighs, so soft, yet so hard, so muscled, so erotic. I move one hand upwards, feeling for his hairy crack, my teeth pressing on his hardness through the silky material of the CKs. He throbs in passionate response.

    Slowly I pull down his CKs. His dick is fully erect, pointing straight at me, covered almost to the tip with his foreskin, the slit glistening, inviting, actually staring at me, as if to say: “dude, what’s taking you so long?” I fist his hardness and pull back the skin. The knob appears, pink, and rounded, and wet. I lick the underside of the ridge. I feel Ian’s hand grabbing my hair. I can hear him moan. My tongue flicks the underside of his cock and I move it all the way down the shaft to his balls as I slowly stroke his rod up and down using the skin.

    I move back to the head and I gulp it, trying to swallow the whole shaft. I gag, slobber, work the head with my tongue and then try to swallow him again. I go down halfway and look up at him as my finger pokes around his fuck hole. His eyes are closed shut, his mouth wide open, his moans loud. I can see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. I swallow some more cock and I am almost at the base when Ian grabs the back of my head and thrusts the rest of his dick down my throat.

    My lips wrap around the base of his cock and I fight back the gagging as his cock head pushes at my throat. Slowly, I pull back the full length, lick around the pink and wet head, and then slide back to the base. It gets easier for me to swallow him, fisting his balls with one hand, fingering his ass with the other.

    I suck him, alternating between deep-throating and finger-fucking, and working the head with my lips and tongue as I stroke his shaft using his skin and my spit as lubricant. I pull the foreskin back all the way, unsheathing the head. His cock now looks circumcised.  I lick around the pink ridge, suckling on the engorged knob, fingering his ass, finding the tight hole, pushing my middle finger in, feeling the squeeze of his rim muscle. I daren’t touch myself for I would certainly explode inside my silky yellow CKs.

    I quit the cock and slurp up the hot hairy torso to the lips. We kiss. Tongues. Deep. He is naked. I am still in my yellow CKs. We are pressing on each other. Rubbing. Grinding. Moaning. Eating each other’s mouths. Sucking on lips. Hands rubbing down the backs. My hand ultimately reaches Ian’s crack, fingering, finding the tight hole once more, feeling it squeeze and burn, eager to be penetrated.

    We move to the sofa bed. We are still glued to each other, slobbering on each other’s mouths. I am throbbing inside my tight underwear, ready to burst. My arms are holding Ian tight and my hands move from the back of his neck down to his bare, firm butt. I pull him into me, my cock poking his belly, so eager for the fucking to start.

    Ian pulls down my yellow CKs and starts to emulate what I have done to him before. My cock is pulsating as he wraps his lips around the cut, mushroom head. He looks up at me, kisses the head and says:

    “James, you are one big hunk of a guy.”

    “I can’t complain,” I say huskily, trying my best to control my load, which was threatening to splash his face with gallons of my sperm.

    He fists the shaft and works the head. I must say he is a professional cocksucker because although my cock is bigger and thicker than his, he swallows the whole length at one go, still looking up at me with his beautiful eyes glistening and filled with desire. He is all maleness even though he is down there on his knees sucking on my cock. I play with his hair and pump his mouth, in and out, slowly, savoring the sensations electrifying my body.

    I feel close to exploding, but I want more than just a blowjob, even if by a pro like Ian. I want much more. I pull him off my crotch. Spit is drooling down his chin. I lick and kiss and push him onto the sofa bed, almost dizzy with lust for his body. My cock is so hard, steel hard, throbbing, craving to make its thrusting way into Ian’s beautiful body.  

    Ian lies expectantly on his back, his legs outstretched, his feet up in the air. I hold him by the ankles and kneel between his thighs, raising his butt. Looking down, I see his pink fuck hole, all puckered and twitching. My cock is already wet and dripping with spit and pre-cum. It erects up vertically in parallel with my belly, stiff and throbbing. I push down on it with one hand, aligning it with the waiting hole, placing the glistening head at the opening, rubbing round and round, feeling the squeeze and twitch of his ring muscle, inviting me to penetrate. I lift his ass further up and press on his hole.

    Although wet and lubricated, I can’t enter. I spit more saliva down on my cock shaft and spread the spit along the rod and around the knob. Another spit drops into his hairy crack. I push again, hard. I can feel his hole stretch for me. My cockhead penetrates.

    Ian screams at the invasion, his eyes closed shut. I keep the pressure on, and the whole shaft slides into the tight fuck hole. He squeezes hard on me, his hands gripping my thighs, but my thrust forces his ass to stretch. He takes the whole 8 inches, whimpering, biting on his lower lip, his fingernails digging into my thighs.

    I wait until I feel him relax, licking his curling toes and sexy feet.

    Then I pound his ass. Long, hard, deep, fast. My load builds up in my nuts and I’m soon ready to explode. He squeezes on me harder, milking me. I plunge into his ass all the way and grind against his butt to delay my ejaculation.  I bend on top of him, my belly pressing on his balls and hard dick, and I find his mouth. I kiss him, probing my tongue inside those sweet lips of his and I feel his moans deep down my throat. I feel his cock pressed against my abs, wet and throbbing. Then I straighten and resume my fucking, holding him by his ankles. He reaches up and runs his hands all over my chest, wet with my sweat and his precum, squeezing my nipples, clutching at my abs, moaning and groaning as he receives my pounding thrusts.

    As soon as I feel my nuts are ready to shoot I pull out of the tight hole, sit on Ian’s sweaty chest and shower his face with my cum. I squirt all over his mouth and his nose; my thick semen covers his eyeglasses which he has kept on. Some drops hit his hair.

    I shove my still squirting cock inside his mouth and he sucks it deep, swallowing my love juice and jerking off behind me. I feel the warmth of his jizz as it hits my lower back and my butt, his mouth still filled with my cock, his moans vibrating my shooting nuts.

    “It’s all because of a stupid pair of underwear,” he sighs as I slump next to him, heaving and sweating.

    “It got me to fuck your ass, Ian,” I laugh, still breathing fast, still not able to settle.

    “Boy, Jimmy, you really fucked me hard. And the CKs do look hot on you, man,” Ian said, placing his hand gently on my sweaty thigh and then squeezing.

    “Guess what? I’m in the market for a pair of sweats.  Any idea where I should go where there would be a helpful assistant?” I tease, licking the side of his exposed neck, tasting some of my cum that had splashed his face.

    Ian grabs my slimy cock and squeezes it.

    “This is private property, Jimboy. It’s mine. It owns me. Don’t you dare poke it somewhere else!”

    With this, Ian bends over me and gobbles my now rising tool. And the fucking resumes.

    The fucking hasn’t stopped yet, almost three weeks later… but I think I already need new underwear! Any ideas?


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  • Testing the man

    I heard a knock on the other side of my office door. The room where I spent most of my day, but I didn’t spend all of my time just working in there.

    “It’s Josh! Can I come in?” It was my daughter’s boyfriend, they had been dating for 2 and a half years now.

    “Sure!” I yelled back.

    He opened the door and walked in.

    “What’s bothering you?” I had been used to friends and family coming to me for advice, since I worked as a psychologist.

    “I have a rather important question to ask you…” He looked nervous.

    “What seems to be the problem?” I wanted him to get straight to the point since I hated people who beat around the bush.

    “It’s not really a problem. Much rather a request, I’d like to ask your daughters hand in marriage.”

    I was a bit surprised, but I had been waiting for this request for some time already.

    “Well, I’ll approve it if you can complete my test.”

    “Okay, sir,” he was a polite, young gentleman.

    “If you can complete it, I’ll know that you are determined and wilful in marrying Lisa.”

    “Of course, sir! When can I start?” he asked.

    “We can start now. May I ask you to lock the door?”

    “Sure,” he got to it, turned the lock and went back to me.

    “Now, I’d like to make an agreement that this stays between us without anyone’s knowledge of it, not even Lisa can find out about this. Can I trust you on this?” I couldn’t let them know about the events that were about to unwind.

    “Yes, sir!” I hadn’t asked him to call me that, but I enjoyed it quite a bit.

    “Now, let’s start simple – please remove all of your clothes,” I could see him being taken aback by my request, but he tried to play it cool and followed my order.

    He took off his shirt, revealing his toned abs and chest. Then unzipped his jeans, underneath he was wearing white Calvin Klein trunks. After a short pause, he took them off as well. His pubes were trimmed short, he had an average-sized, cut cock and rather tight balls.

    “Now, what’s about to happen may seem a bit bizarre, but it’s genuinely the only way to find if you’re the right man. I had to do it to ask Mary’s hand from her father and look at how great we turned out,” while saying this, I could sense some nervousness coming from him, “Don’t worry, you’re going to be okay.”

    I stood up from my chair, walked around my desk and leaned against it. I undid my belt, unzipped my pants and took out my dick. I was already hard. I have to say that I wasn’t the biggest of men when talking about the downstairs area, but it certainly wasn’t the worst.

    “Now, suck my dick,” I wanted to feel his soft, young lips, grip around my cock, just like I had done to Mary’s father 30 years ago.

    He obviously was shocked, but I guess he got the reasoning behind it. He walked up to me, got on his knees, put his hand around my dick and put it in his mouth. I let out a soft moan, he curiously looked up at me, and I smiled back. He took more of it in and started pulling back.

    “Come on, I know you can go deeper, I couldn’t feel the back of your moth yet…” I said in a teaching manner.

    He looked up at me again and went as deep as he could, I could feel it touching the back of his mouth. He wasn’t trying to move, probably because I was close to his gag reflex.

    “Oh, don’t you know how blow jobs work? Now pull back, and then go forward again…” I tried to stay calm, but couldn’t really, cause I just wanted him to suck me off so badly, but he was being bad at it.

    He began doing it like it should be done, and I started to enjoy it.

    “Yeah, just like that, don’t stop,” I groaned.

    He began to increase the speed up, not so afraid of taking it a bit deeper with each time.

    I put my hands around his head, touching his blonde hair.

    “Let’s speed things up!” I started moving his head faster, he stared up at me, surprised and startled.

    I didn’t want to go too rough on the guy as I had intended to do more with him and didn’t want to scare him off. I did want to play a bit, so I pushed him on my cock balls deep and held his head. He started gagging and tried to pull away. I let go of him, and he pulled back. The cool air hit my dick, making it even more aroused.

    “Ready for the next step?” I smiled, looking down at him.

    “Okay…” he said while wiping the spit from around his mouth.

    “Go ahead and lay on the couch. On your back,” I instructed him.

    He got up, turned around and made his way over to the couch. I looked at his naked body, he was rather skinny, but he had muscles and a great ass, with not a lot of hair. I assumed he trimmed his pubes and ass. I showed him to lay down on the couch. I saw fully saw his cock, he definitely had some extra blood in there, but not enough… I walked over to him, sat down by his feet and took them in my hands. I started raising them, then bending them at his knees and pushing them over his body. I had to get access to his hole. As his buttcheeks spread, I saw the grand prize – a beautiful virgin asshole. I licked my lips and crawled over to him, sticking my tongue out, I licked his perfect, pink hole, making him let out a soft moan.

    “You like that, huh?” I looked up from his asshole at his face.

    “Yeah,” he softly answered.

    “Then there are even better things in store or you,” I smiled and returned to his asshole.    As I liked him, I remember me laying in the same position, moaning like a little bitch, not knowing that the soft tongue would be replaced with a rock hard cock. I spread his hole even wider, taking my tongue deeper inside of him. He moaned louder.

    “Take the pillow and bite on it, we don’t want anyone in the house to notice our shenanigans,” I pointed to a cushion beside him.

    He grabbed it and buried the lower part of his face into it. I returned to rimming him as he tried to muffle his moans. I was slowly moving my tongue deeper into him and could see his dick getting harder. You naughty, little boy! I thought and smiled to myself. I removed my tongue from him, he opened his eyes and gazed at me. I replied with a big smile and slowly inserted my middle finger inside of him. He was afraid but curious. As I went deeper, I saw in his face and felt in his ass, that he was becoming more relaxed, and then I struck, bending my finger and applying pressure on his prostate.

    “OH, FUCK!” he muttered behind the pillow.

    His eyes said it all, and I could see that his dick was enjoying it as well. His moans intensified, he started moving his hips to increase the pleasure. I decided to play with him, so I straightened my finger, so it no longer touched his prostate, the disappointment in his eyes was immediate. I laughed.

    “Let’s take it further!”

    He was all horned up and wasn’t scared anymore, he was curious.

    “Turn around and get on all fours,” I asked him with a big grin, a bit of fear appeared on his face, but it didn’t stop him.

    I went over to my desk to get a condom. I also took off my clothes, as I liked the skin on skin feeling of the sweaty bodies while having sex.

    As I returned him, he was all set up, sticking his butt up, like a little slut. I liked the sight so much that I wish I had taken photos of him.

    “Bite down on that pillow, you’ll be moaning like a little bitch!” I guided him.

    He lovered his head and bit down on the pillow. I propped my cock with against his hole.

    “Ready?” I asked while applying pressure on his ass.

    “Uh-huh,” he replied.

    I didn’t want to ruin his experience, for my pleasure, so I started slowly. As his hole spread, a moan escaped his mouth. I started fucking him, slowly getting deeper with each hump. When I had made it all the way, I increased my speed, making him moan even more. Such a good slut. He was ready to do it all because of my daughter. I wondered if he would come back to me after some time when his hole would get hungry for some man meat. I certainly did with Mary’s father. I couldn’t let go of the pleasure I had experienced during my test. I decided to give myself a bit more satisfaction, so I grabbed his hips and quickly banged them against me. He was in ecstasy. He moved his hand over to his cock, but I stopped him.

    “We don’t want to make a mess on the couch…” I wanted to see him crave orgasm, but not be able to get it, making him moan and squirm even more.

    I pulled my cock out entirely and then rammed back into him, he moaned loudly. I decided to do this a few more times, to hear him moan like a little bitch.

    “Fuck, I’m getting close to cumming, turn around so you can have a taste, after that, you have the hand of Lisa,” He quickly turned around, “Now open your mouth and stick out your tongue.

    I pulled off the condom and started jacking quickly. Soon after cum shot out of my cock, landing on his tongue, nose and forehead. The next shots landed all over his face after I had finished, I rubbed the tip of my dick on this tongue to clean it.

    “Now swallow it!”

    He put his tongue in and swallowed my load. His eyes were closed since some cum had landed there, but his smile said it all. I wiped the rest of my cum with my finger and gave it to him. He licked and sucked every last bit of cum I had on there.

    “Do you want any help with your orgasm?” I politely asked.

    “Umm, I’d better do it on my own…” he replied

    I was a bit surprised by his response, he was still horny, so there shouldn’t have been any post-orgasm guilt yet. Was he just acting? Nah, he couldn’t have possibly faked it.

    We got dressed, his boner was quite noticeable under his pants, and he went out.

    I was so horny afterwards that I jerked off, thinking about him and ate my cum, just like he had, hours before.

  • Serving a Younger Master

    I waited.  On my knees.  Naked.

    I hated being naked. You see, I am old and fat and worst of all, I have a really small penis – maybe 3” hard. So being naked is particularly embarrassing for me.

    But Sir had given the order, and that meant I had to do it. Kneeling inside my apartment door and waiting, door unlocked. Hoping that if anyone entered, it would be Sir that would come through the door, but knowing that there was nothing I could do about it. That if anyone knocked, I would have to say “come in” regardless.

    I had been naked for two days now. Never leaving my apartment. It wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t have floor to ceiling windows in my building. There wasn’t another building terribly close, and I am on the 35th floor, so probably no one could really see. Except when I sleep at night with a light on, naked on top of the blankets. It would be easier to see into the apartment from other buildings then. But that was what Sir told me to do, so I did it. It made it hard to sleep.

    You ask why I did it. Well you haven’t met Sir. Of course neither have I, at least not in person. But I have talked to him on snapchat. And I’ve seen photos. Sir is half my age at 28. He is fit, somewhat hairy, probably 6’1”. He has a perfect beautiful cock that is about 8” and thick. So much bigger than mine. And those feet – big with long, slender toes. Yes, I love Sir’s feet. I can’t wait until I can taste those feet. But for that chance, I have to obey. So I do whatever I am told.

    I heard some shuffling noise outside the apartment and tensed. I looked down because I knew I was not permitted to look in the eyes of a real man. I heard the door open and I held my breath.

    I heard a chuckle and relaxed a bit because I knew it must be Master. Laughing at the pathetic pig in front of him. Looking down, I couldn’t see Master yet but knew he was there. I started to tense as I realized that I had not yet heard the door close, which meant that if anyone walked down the hallway, they would have a perfect view of the pig. I knew better than to say anything, but I couldn’t help but moan a little, which made Sir laugh again.

    “Oh, doesn’t the piggy want his neighbors to see him. To know what he is.”

    Still I waited. I had goosebumps. As I looked down, I saw Sir’s shoes come into the edge of my vision, but still the door was open and Sir said nothing. Suddenly, I felt a spray against my head and immediately I knew that Sir was pissing on me. Right there in the middle of my apartment. With the door open. I felt so low, so humiliated as the piss poured down my body and onto the floor.

    Finally it stopped and Sir turned back and closed the door.

    “Nice to meet you bitch. Why don’t you get down and lick the rest of that piss off the floor. Then go wash that pathetic body and rinse out your mouth before you serve me.”

    I dropped my head and lapped at the pool of piss on the floor. It took me a few minutes to slurp it all up, but I did as commanded. When I finished, I started to get up to go shower, but I immediately felt a sharp slap to my head.

    “Who told you to get up, bitch? Crawl. You can stand when you shower but then back on your hands and knees.”

    I dropped back down and crawled to the bathroom and into the shower. I stood and quickly washed off the piss and rinsed out my mouth. Once I had dried off, I dropped back to my knees and crawled back to Master, who was now sitting naked and spectacular on the couch.

    “Hey bitch. Get over here and clean these feet for me. I haven’t showered since I worked out and my feet are feeling ripe.”

    Sir was right about that. I could smell them before I got close to them. But I found that smell intoxicating. I started on Sir’s right foot and licked from heel to toes. Then my tongue worked between each toe, going from big toe to little toe. I then worked back to the big toe, which I sucked into my mouth, my tongue swirling around it like a small cock. I pulled back and worked my tongue back over the arch of the foot and around the heel, tasting the sweat and grime that gave Sir’s foot that strong smell. I licked and sucked on the right foot for a good ten minutes before Sir slapped my face with his left foot to signal that I should switch.

    So I put the foot down and moved to the left foot. I repeated the service for this foot, covering the sole and then making love to the toes and eating the sweat from between those long beautiful toes.

    After another 10 minutes, I heard Sir say “Enough bitch. Now clean my pits.”

    I crawled forward and buried my face in Master’s right pit. It was hairy and reeked of the sweat of a real man, and I loved it. My little dick was leaking precum. While I lapped at Sir’s pit and ate his sweat, Sir used his foot to swat at my little dick and tiny balls, making me grunt when he would get in a good kick. Before too long, Sir had me switch to clean the other sweaty pit. I knew I would smell like Master’s sweat for days. But the taste was incredible.

    After Sir felt like his pits were sufficiently clean, he told me to get back down and clean my precum off his foot. I slid down and lapped my own pathetic juice off Master’s toes. As I was doing that, Sir was stroking his magnificent cock, and I was excited that I would finally get to taste Master’s big cock.

    Sir laughed at me. “You pathetic piece of shit. You look so eager like you see a bone that you are going to get to play with. You think you’ve earned this cock? Fuck no you loser. You have so much more to do to prove yourself before you ever get to taste this cock. But what you can do is get up here and lick my sweaty balls while I jerk myself off. Move it bitch.”

    I crawled up and buried my face in Master’s balls and began licking. The sweat here was especially strong, and I loved the taste. Master’s balls were heavy and full. I lapped lovingly at them taking them into my mouth and sucking the sweat off them.

    Sir was plainly worked up and it wasn’t going to take him long to work out a load. He pumped his big cock with long strokes, getting faster as he got closer. Suddenly he grabbed my hair and pulled my face up and held it there. As Master did that, he pumped his cock until he was shooting his load all over my face, covering me in his cum. He shot at least six shots, leaving me with a good layer of thick juice all over my face.

    When Sir was done shooting, he just relaxed while still holding my hair. Then he looked down at me and laughed again. “You look so good bitch. In fact, you look so good that you’re going to keep that cum right there. No washing it off until I give you permission to shower. Oh and I want you to be sure and go downstairs and check the mail in the next hour. You will wear my cum when you do it. And you will wear light gray sweatpants and a tight t-shirt that shows all your fat. Make sure it is a short t-shirt. And you will be barefoot. You whore. Maybe you’ll get lucky and no one will see you.”

    With that, Sir got up and started getting dressed. “I have to go bitch. Keep checking your snapchat in case I have instructions for you. Stay naked other than when you go check the mail. Send me a photo every hour to show my cum still on your face. Now I have to go, but I need to piss first.”

    Sir walked toward the bathroom, but turned instead to my bedroom. I had not moved, but I could hear his zipper come down. Then I heard piss raining down on my bed. It seemed to last forever, but eventually it stopped and Sir came back into the main room with his cock hanging out.

    “Say goodbye to your true Master, bitch.”

    “Goodbye Master Cock. Goodbye Master. Thank you for letting me serve you.”

    Master walked out of the apartment, leaving the door open. I crawled over and closed it. And then I started to cry. But my little dick was so hard.


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  • Scarface

    After two years of working in a below-the-line advertising agency, I decided to start my own business. I had been moonlighting for several months and realized that with the work I was doing at night, unbeknownst to my full-time employer, I could make a reasonable living, going it alone. With frugality and a substantial reduction in travel expenses, I would get by. It was a nerve-racking decision, but within a couple of weeks, I knew that I had done the right thing. Working from home was fucking awesome!

    At a party one evening, a friend working at an opposition agency mentioned in passing that a brief that had been sent out to several agencies. He informed me that apart from my former company, several other agencies would also be submitting artwork to a well-known paint company to redesign the artwork on their paint tins. Having met the lady in charge of that division on a few occasions, I phoned her, and after explaining my situation, asked if she would allow me to submit. Somewhat condescendingly, she agreed to entertain a proposal from me.

    I was very familiar with their current packaging, as my previous employer had done the artwork years before. I slaved night and day over the next three weeks and presented what I believed to be a fantastic concept. Upon delivering it and asking for her, I got dismissively told to leave it at the reception desk. I was now in the hands of the advertising gods.

    Five days later, I got a call from Ms. Condescension, informing me that I had won hands-down and that my tender had blown her directors away.  

    The following week, I had a few meetings with her and by Friday, the deal was signed and sealed. I had just made a shitload of money, with a promise of much more business to follow. Elated, I decided to visit my favourite gay bar that evening to celebrate. With my hectic schedule, I had not been there in almost six weeks.

    Upon my arrival, I encountered an acquaintance I had not seen in a while. We weren’t ever great friends but always chatted when bumping into one other at the bar. When our conversation got down to recent sexual activity, my cupboard was bare. Carlin, however, was brimming with news. Excitedly, he told me that he was having sex twice a week with a hot policeman named Rob. I smiled, reflecting upon the fact that my mother’s younger sister was married to a policeman named Rob. When I asked Carlin where Rob got stationed, shock number two hit home. They were at the same precinct. Shock three followed later when I learned that he was also married.       

    Passing this off as a huge coincidence, we continued our conversation. When Carlin, however, told me that the policeman had a huge scar which ran from below his right ear to within half an inch of his mouth, I almost shat myself. Coincidence, be screwed, this queen was being fucked by my aunt’s husband, simple as that! A few other details followed, which left me in absolutely no doubt that Rob was leading a double existence.

    Gail, my mom’s sister, was married to Rob. Gail was about thirty-three-years-old and Rob thirty-four. Gail was eleven years younger than my mom, and because of their differing ages, I had always referred to them as Rob and Gail, dispensing with the aunt and uncle formalities. Rob was a hot man, and I found him incredibly sexy. Standing six-feet-two tall, he was hunky and good looking. I would, however, never have thought in a million years that he would be fucking boys.

    Every two to three weeks, Rob would pop by my apartment for a cup of coffee. He knew I was gay, as did the whole world. But I supposed, because of our familial connection, Rob had never come on to me. True to form, two weeks later, he arrived at my place for a cup of coffee. As we chatted, I decided to employ the coup de grace. I told him that I had met a friend of his named Carlin. My shit-faced grin left him under no illusion that I had just exposed his double existence.

    If I thought that my revelation had put him on the back foot, I got sadly mistaken. Rob moved towards me, and after spinning me around, pushed my body down on my worktable. He then pulled my tracksuit and underpants downward before unzipping himself. All my protests were in vain as he held me down firmly while verbally abusing me.

    “Time to teach a cock-teaser like you some manners,” he growled. There was no compassion as he then speared his thick cock into me. Yelping, I begged him to slow down.

    “Stop whining, you fucking sissy,” came his curt reply.

    Next, after grabbing me by my elbows, he pulled my body harshly onto his knob. Hoping that this wouldn’t last too long, I was in for a shock because Rob had unbelievable stamina, and he continued banging me for the next twenty minutes. His hands actively thwacked my arse as his verbal abuse escalated and his cock speared into me. Rob thumped the hell out of me, pushing and pulling his knob in and out of my arse.   

    Although my presumed upper hand in this situation had backfired, I did not mind in the slightest. Having an alpha male fucking my lights out, I realized every domination fantasy I had ever dreamed about was coming true. When he finally came with me yelping like a girl, he slumped onto me, and after biting my ear hard, said, “You’re going to be seeing a lot more of me pussy-boy.”

    Afterward, he grabbed me by the hair and pushed my head into his crotch. I cleaned him as commanded before he departed. With a sore and happy arse, I eventually got back to my work.

    I did see a lot more of Rob after that. He visited me two to three times a week and never became a gentle lover, and only got rougher. I also grew into the rougher sex and even began to encourage it. A particular favourite of Rob’s was face-fucking me very hard. With his left hand gripping my head, his right hand would slap my face as he dragged me around, hurling abuse. My head would often get wedged in one or other manner as my throat got pulverized. He was the sexiest bully I had ever met, and I couldn’t wait for the torture he doled out during his visits.

    I had always fantasized about being a blue-collar wife, being sexually subjugated in some or other skanky trailer park. Every time he left my apartment, I would run to my bedroom and lay on the bed, playacting the part of a woman who had just been punished and fucked by her brutish redneck husband. After that, I would then shoot a huge load, revelling in my imagined hell as I clutched my non-existent breasts while sighing, and groaning.

    Following Rob’s initial visit, future family gatherings were not as difficult as I had feared. Rob always played it straight on those occasions and never did, or said, anything out of place.

    After I finally became involved in a relationship months later, my trysts with Rob continued. Unfortunately, we had to tone down the rough stuff, because it would have been difficult explaining my welts and bruises to my partner.

    No one ever found out about Rob and me.


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  • A friend in need is a friend indeed

    I have friend who confessed to me that he had never had the pleasure of reaching an orgasm having his cock sucked. He said he would end up jerking off and end up telling the cocksucker to open his mouth if he wanted his load, then he would shoot his load into the greedy mouth while still jerking his cock off. He said he would love to find someone who had the talent to get him completely off while his cock was still within their mouths.

    I have to say from the start he, and I had a platonic friendship, never having any sexual relations, he was straight as an arrow, always bragging about his love conquests of women, besides the friendship had developed past that possibility to seduce him and the only way I can explain it, he became family to me. I didn’t want to put at risk our friendship but then again,  I was sure I could help him. 

    One day, we were smoking a joint and drinking a few beers, enjoying our conversation since we hadn’t seen each for a while because we were so busy with our daily lives. He knew nothing about the fact I liked men more than women. All our inhibitions were down because of the pot and alcohol. And he got so drunk and high that he ended up staying the night. So we shared my bed, and I was determined to help him out as a friend.

    He was so incapacitated that I had to undress him. Upon pulling his pants off, I realized he wasn’t wearing any underwear. This was the first time I had ever seen his cock, soft, it was huge at least 5 inches with big hairy balls, a true feast for a cocksucker. I covered him up and undressed, getting in bed next to him, obsessed by what I had seen. Finally, I  got brave enough and found myself below the covers, my head hovering over his crotch. I brought  my lips near the head of his cock and flicked the head of his cock with my tongue, it responded immediately, coming to life. Then I went to his hairy balls and did the same thing with my tongue savoring the saltiness of his wrinkled ball sack. I watched as his cock grew in length and thickness, pleased with how he responded.

    Then, I captured his rising shaft in my hot mouth and he moaned, his hips rising, forcing more of his prick into my mouth til he had reached total erection, at least nine inches. I started to suck his cock, sliding up and down, using my tongue to caress the head of his cock. The response was tremendous when I directed my attention on his cock head, telling me that was the secret to getting his load.

    All at once, he pulled back the sheets and stared at me sucking his cock and said ” Do you think you can do it.”  I knew exactly what meant. He laid back on his back and as I was sucking him, I made noises of my pleasure and this seemed to arose him, his cock got harder and thicker and I caressed his hairy legs and balls while giving him head. I felt his legs begin to tremble and even his toes had begun to spread and separate. He started to make noises that told me he was on the way to an incredible orgasm. I started to suck his cock with more fervor, using all my talent. He shouted, ” I’m going to come,” so I swallowed him to his balls and waited. I felt the pulsations one after the other bringing his cum to shoot down my throat. I stayed silent relishing in his orgasm  and how his body jerked with each spurt of cream from his balls.

    After it was over he looked down at me and said could we do it again saying it was the best blow job he had ever had. I was thoroughly pleased as I started to suck his cock again to another nut. We still have a great friendship which includes giving him head whenever he feels a need. To this day I am the only one that is able to make him cum with my mouth. He said it would be a secret between us.

  • The League of Brothers

    The soldiers were all gathered around the fire, talking about everything from the war to titties. Thadeus sat down ,put his sword aside and stretched out his long legs towards the fire. The leather kilts they wore did very little for warmth but he wasn’t one to complain.

    He accepted a bottle of rum from the soldier beside him and took a swig. The League of brothers shared everything, it was an unspoken thing. Beds, drinks, women, their bodies. Thadeus was bringing the bottle down when he caught Brann’s eye from across the fire. He stood a ways from the fire, thighs thick beneath his short kilt.They’d fucked before and Thadeus felt his ass hole clench at the memory.

    There was a sudden yell and everyone leapt to their feet as the drums started. Soldiers drunkenly around the fire.Thadeus was jolted to his feet as well, he was reaching for his sword when he felt a hand wrap around his bicep. He stumbled back against a hard body and immediately felt the cock pressed against his back.Rough hands reached up under his kilt and squeezed his ass, the softest part of his body. He felt more than heard Brann spit and then there were was a large wet finger between his cheeks. He grunted when the finger thrust in and hissed when another did the same.

    There was nothing nice or finesse about it, there rarely was among the brothers of the League. Brann wanted to fuck and Thadeus was there.

    The thick fingers thrust into his ass, the  amazing burn of it kicking Thadeus’s dick into life.

    ” Come on” Brann growled in his ear leading him towards any hard surface. They got as far as the weapons house before Brann was bending Thadeus over a table. Thadeus felt cool air on his slick hole when Brann flapped the kilt to expose his pale ass. He barely had time to brace himself before Brann’s thick head was pressing against his hole. With a hard thrust, Brann pushed past the sphincters and drove in. Thadeus let out a cry. It hurt goddamnit. He gritted his teeth, focusing on the fullness he felt as the thick cock pulsed deep inside him.

    Brann gripped Thadeus’s hips, pulled out and drove in until he hit Thadeus’s plump cheeks, aching to fill that hot tightness, to fuck his brother.

    ” Fuck yes” Thadeus let out, bracing his hands on the table. He grunted on another thrust, the pleasure making him bite his lip.

    ” Harder brother” he demanded and the table moved with the next thrust. Thadeus relished the pain, wanted it because if he was getting fucked , he was going to take it like a soldier. His head was yanked up by his hair and into a sloppy kiss as Brann’s hips slammed his dick home. Thadeus moaned into Brann’s mouth as the grip his hips hardened and the dick tore into him even faster, the burn making his thighs tense. He was panting like a bitch in heat now. It felt so good.

    ” So fucking tight” growled Brann, intent on fucking Thadeus through the table. The tight channel was squeezing his dick , the heat of it calling in the pleasure coiling at the base of his spine. He looked down at the man he was pounding into, at the broad muscled back and firm ass. He wanted to make him yell and so he did with a brutal thrust. Thadeus cried out .

    ” Yess” Thadeus hissed. Brann did it again and again until Thadeus was panting, his face slack, his lips parted.

    Sweat rolled down his back, his thighs tingling against Thadeus’. He made that ass ripple once,twice and then his back snapped straight, his thighs locked and he let go with a yell that Thadeus answered, his muscle ass clamping down on Brann.

    The world whited out for a minute and when it cleared, Thadeus’s ass was twitching uncontrollably as cum travelled down the back of his thigh. Brann slapped the twitching ass just to watch it bounce and helped Thadeus to his feet. He patted the poor guy’s shoulder and left.


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  • United

    In 2034 football remains the sport of the people.  Despite the fact that the game has changed beyond all recognition since the early years of the twenty first century, the game is still revered by the fans and the media.

    Gone are the days of multi million pound contracts and transfers.  Contracts and transfers no longer exist.  Players are of course unpaid, and once they are with a club, then there they will stay.  Literally marked as a player for life.  Gone are the superstar lifestyles of players of course.  Gone are the sponsorship deals and the wives who courted celebrity with their husband’s fame.  The players are now mere entertainment value for the crowds, the real winners in modern football.  Now the stadiums are designed for crowd comfort as all money is placed back for the benefit of the fans.

    Welcome to Old Trafford.  Home of the Premier League Champions 2033.  Today is a big game for the fans, as United play their rivals from London, Arsenal.  It is two hours from kick off, and the fans are beginning to arrive at the stadium.

    Deep below the pitch, it is time for the players to start their preparation.  A light flicks on in the storage room beneath the pitch and the trainers enter the cool room, ready to begin the pre-match training programme.  Around the edges of the room, the players stir.  Aware that their trainers have entered the room they prepare to be released from storage.  Their aching, honed torsos and muscles prepare to face battle.

    The United players flex their muscles and stare at their trainers, their muscles straining against their bonds, and their eyes pleading for release.  With a quick security code the laser beams are released and the weary players slump forward from their imprisonment against the walls and kneel on the cold floor.  After a nod from their trainer, the players remove their mouth bits and stretch their tongues for the first time on match day.  None of them speak.  None are able to speak any more.

    The trainers type in a further code and the air is filled with the sounds of 14 young men releasing their large metal butt plugs from their anal chutes.  United are proud of their team spirit and the trainers smile as they watch the players pass their butt plug to the player on their right.  Silently and diligently, each player licks clean the juices of his team mate from the plug and places it against the wall behind him for re-insertion after the game.

    On command, the players rise and place their hands behind their stubbled heads.  Each slave faces forward, shaved chests flexed and displaying their team number etched in black between their powerful pecs.  A permanent reminder that they are the property of their football club and a reminder of their purpose in life as a form of entertainment.  No longer a man.  No longer free.

    Slave number 3 closes his eyes momentarily in despair at his predicament.  The oldest slave on the team, he still remembers the time when he was free and a man.  A wealthy footballer with all the trappings that the game brought a young man of extreme talent.  He remembers when he spent the morning before a game driving to the game in his sports car, dressed in expensive clothes like a man.  Looking down at the fans as he passed them in the street.  The same fans who now own his body.  All of it.  Forever.

    He remembers the team kit, the camaraderie with his team mates.  The feeling of being a pampered star and an idol to the fans.  How he yearns for a return to such freedom, as he stands stark naked, his abused arse twitching as it is free from its plug until this evening.  Forbidden to speak, now owned property and the property of his club.

    Slave number 3 used to be called Tommy.  Now it seems absurd to think of having a name.  He isn’t human any more.  He looks into the sad eyes of the muscular black slave opposite him, the number 7 etched in his shaved body, legs apart and penis on display.  The youngster doesn’t even have a name, and Tommy never has the opportunity to discuss his past, and what made him into a slave player.  Speaking is for human beings, not slaves.  The permanent mouth guard welded around his teeth prevents any form of speech between the slave players, contorting slightly the handsome feature of each perfectly formed young hunk of meat in the room.

    ****

    It is kick off time.  The United players have finished listening to the instructions of their Master Trainer and are ready to enter the stadium.  Slowly, each one rises from their seat, releasing the greased dildo that has pumped their body with vitamins and energy for the contest ahead.  Each slave player moves towards the tunnel and lines up.  The sound of the stadium ringing in his ears as he prepares to display himself to the crowd.  Ahead, the steward stands with whip in hand as each team captain stands at the head of his team.  Twenty two naked bodies quiver in anticipation of running out before over seventy thousand free people.  Each one of the players was once a free man, once a spectator himself.  Before he was purchased by the club.  Now he stood naked, quivering slightly in the cold Autumn air.  He feels the cold against his shaved torso, the air nipping the slab of meat above his cock, where once he was allowed pubic hair.  Naked as the day he was born, except for the large black numbers, the permanently coloured lower half of his legs and the similarly coloured penis.  Penis and lower legs permanently coloured in team colours to mark him as owned property.

    The fanfare sounds.  With a crack of the steward’s whip, the players run onto the pitch as the crowd stand and roar.  The damp grass beneath each player’s bare feet shivers as a gust of autumnal wind shoots across the pitch.  Each player shudders as he sprints into position, penis thudding against his muscular thighs.  He remembers the warning of their Master Trainer and begs that tonight he will be locked away victorious.  He has grown accustomed to the regular serving as a naked waiter at the postmatch meal for sponsors and supporters.  He has grown accustomed to being selected as fuckmeat for anyone with the money to buy his body for an hour.  But he can never grow accustomed to the whipping and torture that he receives after a defeat.  As he stretches his naked torso in front of thousands of spectators, he steels his mind to win.  For his team.  For his owners.  United.

    “United”.  Follow up Chapter.

    Greg Matthews was 35 years old.  His body was no longer lean and muscular, a paunch and a balding patch the first onset of advancing years.  Greg was a confirmed bachelor, never having found a woman who wanted to fit in with his obsession.  Greg had always supported United.  From a small kid it had been his passion.  His number one love in life.  He had supported them home and away, and his house was a shrine to the football club that he supported.

    It had taken Greg a long time to collect the countless memorabilia that declared his love for his team.  United.  His personal collection of United memories was his pride and joy.  Greg kept a room in his house dedicated to his football club, and liked to think of it as his museum.  The room was stuffed full of old programmes, old pictures, signed balls and pennants, and a large collection of DVDs of memorable games.  Memorable occasions when he had revelled in the glory of being a United supporter.

    It was Saturday evening.  Greg sat alone in front of his DVD player, and inserted the DVD.  He settled down and prepared to re-live the night five years ago when United had tasted European glory.  The night when United had won the European Champions League.  They had come back from 2-0 down against the German champions Bayern Munich to snatch the game 3-2 in extra time.  Greg had celebrated long and hard that night, in this very room.  Unable to afford the expense of a trip to Barcelona, Greg had watched David Beckton, United’s number 7, score the winning goal and had worshipped the player as his hero. 

    How fitting and sweet it seemed to Greg now that – against all of the odds – he had won the club’s lottery last year.  Greg had managed to obtain a prized possession that completed his collection and made his life complete.  The ultimate United piece of memorabilia.

    Greg leant back in his favourite leather armchair, in front of the massive TV screen that adorned one wall of his personal United museum.  He watched the game in peace, beer in hand.

    “2-0 down, United are going to have to produce something special if they are to win this trophy now….”

    Greg raised his feet off the sweating back of the boy crouched semi-naked at his feet, in front of him on the floor.  “Beer,” he said, not taking his eyes from the TV screen.

    The sound of football studs rang off the wooden floor as the boy hauled himself to his feet and stumbled to Greg’s home made bar, decked out in United red in the corner of the room.  Greg watched him from behind, his muscular body still displaying his athleticism, but betraying what he once was.  His trademark blond hair still framing the beautiful face of a once-sought-after jockboy.  Dressed only in united socks, football boots, United top and a soiled jockstrap, he drew a pint into the frost-coated pint glass for his owner.  His bare arse on display as he worked.  Silently and quickly.

    He dropped to his knees when he returned and kept his gaze to the floor as he held the beer out to Greg in upraised hands.

    “…An amazing piece of skill there from David Beckton.  What a pass through the middle there to set up that goal.  United are back in the game at 2-1 now.  Can they win it?”

    Greg chuckled to himself.  “Of course they can…” he laughed.  And without taking his eyes away from the action, he took the glass from the boy’s outstretched hands.

    “Mouth.”

    The boy tipped his head back, eyes blurry with exhaustion, and let his mouth fall open.  Greg cracked him across the face, nearly knocking him backwards across the wooden floor.

    “Mouth, fucker.”

    Hurriedly, silently, fear etched on his handsome face, he opened up properly, mouth stretched open as far as he could hinge his chiselled jaw, tongue resting over his bottom teeth.  Greg stared at him, and slowly unzipped his trousers.  Without needing to be told, the boy hunkered down as low as he could get and prepared for his inevitable fate.  Greg leant forward, beer in hand and eyes on the television, and laid his unwashed cock on the boy’s tongue.  With a sigh, he continued to watch the game.

    “This is going into extra time.  Beckton is having the game of his life and – if United are to go on and win this game – they will owe a lot to this young England star.”

    Greg could feel the boy start to tremble under the strain of the posture that he was being forced to keep.  His muscular quads must have been on fire as he squatted before his owner, his football boots skidding slightly across the smooth surface of the floor.  His tongue quivered with the effort of suppressing his gag reflex.  He knew he was not allowed to move or make any noise.  Only his breath gusted through his nose in laboured snorts.  His breath ruffling Greg’s pubic hair as he concentrated on controlling his breathing.  He didn’t dare breathe through his mouth.

    “3 minutes left in extra time.  Both teams level.  Can United win this game in the dying minutes?”

    Greg looked down at the handsome face cradling his cock.  He looked at the sweat-tangled white-blond hair falling into one eye, the masculine features contorted.  He smiled as he noticed the skin at the left corner of his mouth starting to crack as he struggled mightily to open his mouth even wider.

    Greg smiled smugly as the key moment approached.  Life didn’t get any better than this for Greg.  He let loose his bladder, contracting his lower abs to spray the piss out in a hard, forceful jet.  Below him, he heard the cough and splutter of the helpless boy as the acrid stream blasted the back of his throat.

    “Amazing!  David Beckton has scored the winning goal with 2 minutes left on the clock.  David Beckton is United’s hero.  This young man is set to become United and England’s biggest hero.  He deserves every accolade …”

    As hard as he tried, there was no way that he could swallow effectively with his mouth and neck at this rigid angle.  His mouth overbrimming with his owner’s piss, it all came pouring back out.  It ran over the neatly trimmed beard down his chiselled jaw – kept as it was five years ago – and down his neck.  It ran down the front of his dirty United jersey.  The very jersey he had worn five years ago in that famous game.  The jersey that he wore permanently now.

    He felt the warm piss soak down his chest and abs, and down onto the jockstrap that cupped his now shaved genitals.  He heard the steady drip as the piss pooled between his straining legs.

    Greg felt the shudder that ran through the slave’s body.  He imagined that the slave could feel Greg’s piss trickling into the cup beneath his jock strap.  The cup that was locked in place, encasing his cramped genitals that were now no doubt soaked in his owner’s piss.  The very genitals that were never allowed release from their own cramped prison.

    Greg smiled at the pool of piss between the slave’s shining football boots.  No matter.  It would be his job to lap it up anyway, scraping his tongue raw on the wood.  Greg felt his lower jaw stiffen, then shake as he began to sob uncontrollably.  Tears rolling down his handsome face as he listened on the television to what he had once been.  Before his club had sold him into a life of slavery for the benefit of profit.  Before he had been sentenced to a life of abject misery as an object in this cruel man’s museum.  A living toilet.

    Greg stepped back as the flow of urine slacked off, and quivering lips closed reluctantly – obediently, as he had been taught – around Greg’s cock.  He sucked gently, choking a bit as Greg pulsed out the last few ounces.  He gagged it down and kept sucking, bathing Greg’s cock with his tongue as it swelled in the boy’s mouth.

    The twenty-seven year old ex-footballer cried like the helpless boy that he had become, silently now, tears washing across the angry red handprint developing on his pale skin.  Greg looked at the face on the television – the suntanned happiness of David Beckton blasted across his widescreen TV.  He looked down at the piss stained specimen at his feet and smiled in contentment.  The suntan had long disappeared, after a lifetime now spent locked in a glass specimen case when not serving his owner.

    Greg drank down the last of his beer as he watched United lift the cup.  Taking his slave’s matted hair in his hands, he twisted the hair on his scalp tight within his fists.  Greg sighed in happiness as he pounded the boy’s face.  For such a hero in European footballing history, David was one hell of a cocksucker now.


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


  • In-Store Pickup

    Here’s the last of my Thanksgiving Tales, and one I’m petty proud of. Hope you enjoy!


    Drew had never really been the type of guy to get into the whole Black Friday thing. Sure, every once in a while, there was a sweet deal on a big-ass TV or a PlayStation or whatever, but he already had all that stuff. Why mess around with the crowds and the traffic just to score a deal that wasn’t really all that great, on shit that he already had? You could get most of that stuff online now anyway, and now that he was older and valued his time more, it was a far better deal to get something delivered to your door, and never have to leave your couch.

    This year, though, Drew wasn’t on his own couch. He was in Florida, in the guest room of his in-laws’ house. Emily was super pregnant – “10 months, I swear to Christ,” she’d muttered the other day – and she, her mother and sister were in full Imminent Baby Arrival Mode. They’d all piled into Janine’s Lexus this morning and announced they’d be back in time for dinner, leaving Drew at the house with his father-in-law – or his stepfather-in-law, he guessed, he’d never been 100% on the correct title. Drew had never much cared for Dr. Daniels; the guy wasn’t much of a conversationalist, and in the three years he and Emily had been married, Drew had sure tried. But there just wasn’t that much they had in common, and Drew had always gotten the sense that the workaholic opthalmologist just didn’t get the big ex-jock marketing guy Emily had married. They were like two superficially similar examples of distinct species, seemed like.

    The idea of spending the day hanging around his in-laws’ big, expensively decorated McMansion wasn’t all that appealing, and the notion of a grudging invitation to go play golf with Dr. Daniels even less so. Drew would rather shoot himself in the face than play golf anyway, much less with that guy. He didn’t know anybody in this part of Florida. He was starting to feel a little bit antsy, when he spotted the pile of picked-over Black Friday circulars from the morning paper sitting on the kitchen island.

    That was how he found himself in SportsMart. They had some pretty good deals going on running shoes and workout gear, and as a bonus, the place was half-empty of shoppers. It was the last big tenant in an old dying mall, all the big-name stores gone, just an old-people’s cafeteria restaurant and a few sad little stores and the SportsMart keeping it alive. Places like this gave Drew the creeps, but at least it wasn’t crowded, and was it really that much creepier than the near-silent, manicured acres of his in-laws’ gated community?

    Besides, Drew was being cruised, and in spite of himself, he was intrigued.

    It had taken him a few minutes to notice it, but he wasn’t an idiot – he knew when he was being checked out, and he knew when he was being cruised. They were two different things. Getting checked out, that was like a little boost to your self-esteem, a head turning as you walked by. Drew was lucky enough to have gotten a fair amount of that over the years. But getting cruised – well, that was like a lot more like being hunted. That was a different feeling, like a hot charge in your guts – a sizzle of possibility. In Drew’s experience, women didn’t cruise – they preferred to be hunted, not being the hunter. Cruising was a guy thing, something much more intentional, and he’d had it happen often enough – at the gym, on the street up in New York, in hotel bars when he was on the road for work – to know what it was to be really savored like that. Assessed. Evaluated, like a piece of meat. Most guys wouldn’t admit to it, but sometimes, it was incredibly hot to be treated like that, like you were being considered for your fuckworthiness.

    The first time he’d seen the kid had been on his way in. The kid had been helping a customer lug a weight bench up to the checkout, and when Drew had come in, the kid had offered him a standard kind of customer-service greeting, then held his gaze for a little longer than usual, given him an up-down sweep with his eyes that was almost hilariously transparent. Drew hadn’t thought anything about it, dismissing it for the checking-out that it was. He just stopped to get his bearings and locate the shoe department, then made a beeline for it.

    A few minutes later, Drew was looking at a pair of cross trainers when the kid showed up in the aisle.

    “Help you find anything, sir?” the kid asked, in a surprisingly deep voice. He wasn’t all that tall, maybe five-eight, five-nine, maybe a young college guy, by the look of him. Drew hadn’t expected quite that much bass in his voice.

    “I’m good, thanks,” Drew said. “Just checking things out.”

    “Well I’m happy to help, just let me know,” the kid said, pausing a beat before adding, “Anything at all.”

    The kid continued to linger, and that and the tone of his voice made Drew start to really notice him. Short dark hair styled up into spikes, a solidly muscled, compact form in his purple store-logoed polo shirt and khaki shorts, a good-looking face whose features read as vaguely Asian, like maybe he had a Japanese parent or something.

    “Sure thing,” Drew said, giving him a cursory smile. The shoes were a little expensive for what they were, so he set them down and moved on to the athletic apparel, nodding at the kid as he left.

    A couple minutes after that, he’d spotted the kid out of the corner of his eye nearby as he looked at running shorts, and when Drew had turned to look in his direction, the kid quickly looked away and pretended to be folding a stack of T-shirts.

    And now, here he was again, just as Drew was looking at the Under Armour.

    Twice is a coincidence, Drew thought to himself. But three times…

    “We’ve got some great discounts on Under Armour,” the kid said, and now Drew could see the nerves. The kid was hiding them pretty well, but not completely. “Forty percent off, and another ten percent if you’re a SportsMart MVP.”

    Drew could read the discount signs perfectly well on his own, and he knew the kid knew that.

    “I can see that,” Drew said. “This stuff used to be expensive.”

    “Bad year for the company,” the kid said. “Lots of unsold inventory. Shame, ‘cos it’s good gear. Never let me down.”

    The kid picked up a package of boxer briefs, long midway shorts that stretched to the knee of the jacked model on the package.

    “I like these ones, personally. Got several pairs,” he said, and there was no reason for him to blush a little as he looked up at Drew, but here they were. “These’d probably suit you.”

    Drew couldn’t help but grin at the kid trying to work his game.

    “These are more my style,” he said, nodding at the shorter boxer briefs in his hand. He had big legs that he’d always been pretty proud of, and he liked underwear that showed them off a little, almost as much as his wife did.

    “Yeah, those’d look good on you,” the kid said, looking from the underwear to Drew, scoping out his big frame in a way that was either charmingly unsubtle, or hilariously bold.

    Drew gave the kid a long look. He had to admit, this was flattering – he hadn’t been cruised like this in a while. He kept in shape, still big and strong like he was back when he played football, working out four times a week, and he liked to think that the different kind of solidity he had now that he was nearing thirty suited him well. He’d heard, and seen, the horror stories of young fathers losing their shape when a baby came along, and he’d been pretty determined not to let that happen to him. Besides, after a short, but sweet burst of intense hormone-induced horniness in her second trimester, Emily had gone off sex almost completely now in the latter stages of pregnancy, and Drew had found himself working out longer, and harder, to find something to fill the gap, and sublimate some of his urges.

    “You think so, huh?” Drew found himself saying, grinning at the enthusiastic way the kid nodded back. Fuck, this was fun. More fun than he’d had in awhile.

    “For sure, sir,” the kid said, sizing him up again, then turning to the rack of underwear, picking out a few different packages. “Maybe these… or these… definitely these…”

    You little perv, Drew thought to himself, amused, looking at the kid with his armload of underwear. He looked him over, and he liked what he was seeing. Definitely a college kid, all smooth skin, tight muscles, built for soccer or wrestling, based on the muscles of his calves. The kind of kid Drew had enjoyed fooling around with, back when he was a college kid himself.

    In many ways, Drew considered himself a supremely lucky guy, all things being equal. He was good-looking, well built, pretty smart, had a great job with a very nice salary, a good German car. Best of all, he had a gorgeous wife who was whip-smart and a low-key freak under her blonde good-girl Florida princess exterior. When she’d found out that he’d had a few same-sex experiences, she’d lustily fucked his brains out, and while she didn’t generally make a big deal about it, he knew the notion of him with another guy turned her on bigtime. Even better than that, when her libido had cratered after its sudden pregnancy-induced spike, and sex had become actively unpleasant for her, she’d sat him down and made him a deal – if the opportunity arose, and nobody got hurt, and nobody caught feelings, he could go ahead and play around. She only had two rules – no other women, and not in their bed.

    That had been a few months ago, and Drew hadn’t taken her up on the offer. But christ, it had been months since he’d gotten laid, and much longer since he’d fooled around with another dude, and here he was, bored and alone in Florida, with a fine young stud right here in front of him, giving him the vibes…

    Twice is a coincidence, Drew thought to himself again. But three times… that’s an opportunity.

    He looked at the packages of underwear the kid was holding, almost like an offering to him, then reached out and took a pair of trunks from him.

    “I like these, but they’re hard for me to wear,” he said, looking the handsome kid in the eye. “I’ve got big legs. Thick thighs. These tend to ride up.”

    “I know exactly what you mean,” the kid said, then dropped his voice confidentially. “And I can see that you do.”

    Drew grinned wider at that, feeling that fun old tingle in his guts. He let himself scope the kid out, taking in the breadth of his shoulders, the swell of his pecs under his ugly purple store polo, the bulge of his tanned biceps peeking out from the short sleeves. The cheap white plastic name badge with BRICE unevenly typed onto a label on it. He let the kid see him scoping him out. The kid seemed to stand a little straighter, subtly pulling his shoulders back, presenting himself for inspection. Drew decided that he liked this guy.

    “Anything else you recommend?” he said, dropping his voice to match the kid’s lower tone, and the kid flushed a little more but grinned right back too, and now they were playing the game.

    “You definitely want the six-inch Boxerjock,” the kid said, pulling a couple packages off the rack. “Though you’re tall enough for the nine-inch…”

    “You’re not far off,” Drew said with a meaningful grin, and he wouldn’t ordinarily say something as pornily obvious as that, but what the fuck. Besides, it was the truth, and the more he looked at this hot, thirsty kid, the more he got into the vibe between them, the truer it was getting.

    The kid blushed and audibly swallowed at that, but sure enough, he glanced down at the front of Drew’s shorts. Just a quick look, but pure instinct, and all the information Drew needed to proceed.

    “Well, uh, I’ve got these in white, black and grey,” the kid said, his voice a little tight as he plucked one of each off the rack. “You should get all three.”

    “These are Medium, but I’m more of a Large,” Drew said, unable to help himself, and the kid just nodded and looked his shorts over again.

    “Yeah man, I don’t doubt it,” he said. “Don’t worry about the MVP discount. I got you.”

    Drew was pretty sure he did, and very sure he was going to.

    *   *   *   *   *

    The kid had been very specific with his directions.

    “Go out through the mall entrance, take a left, head down to the escalators, where the Sears used to be. Head down the side corridor to the restrooms. Look for the one with the adult and child on the sign. I’m gonna take my break, and I’ll meet you up there in five.”

    Drew was glad this mall was on its last legs; they hadn’t even bothered running the lights in this side corridor, because there weren’t any open stores on this end of the whole mall. That meant the restrooms were lightly trafficked, and even better, it meant this family restroom was deserted. He took in the space, a little dingy but clean enough, and started to second-guess himself a little. He was usually a pretty confident kind of guy, somebody who thought things through and usually came to the right decision, but this was a little… seedy. Then again, wasn’t that part of it? Hooking up with a hot, horny dude in a quiet place you weren’t supposed to? Shit like that had always given his balls a buzz. He wondered what Dr. Daniels might think if he knew instead of playing golf with him, Drew was in a zombie mall’s family restroom, about to hook up with a hot college-kid sales associate. Drew decided Dr. Daniels could go fuck himself right in his Trump-voting ear.

    Before he could think too much more about the whole situation, Drew heard the sounds of footsteps coming this way, and all of a sudden, his stomach got a little tight with nerves. Then the door pushed open, squeaking on its hinges, and there was the kid, looking a little furtive and nervous himself.

    “Hey,” the kid said in his surprisingly deep voice.

    “Hey,” Drew said back, giving the kid a smile to ease the tension.

    “So, uh… I’m Brice,” the kid said.

    “I know,” Drew said, nodding at the swell of the kid’s left pec. “I can see your name badge.” He reached out and tapped it with his finger.

    Brice looked down at his own chest, at Drew’s thick forefinger tapping the badge, so close to actually touching him, and let out a short laugh that was half-nervous, half-relieved.

    “Duh, of course,” he said, looking back up to Drew, a little edgy maybe, but still with that eager vibe Drew was feeling himself. “So, um…”

    “Drew,” Drew said, sticking out his hand to shake because it seemed like the thing to do, and his hookup protocol was a little rusty. Brice smiled and shook his hand, his grip strong and firm, his palm a little sweaty. The action made his biceps bulge really nicely, and all of a sudden Drew was real keen to get the kid out of his ugly polo shirt.

    The handshake ended, but Brice didn’t let his hand go, but didn’t say anything more, either – just kind of gazed at Drew, like he couldn’t believe his luck. Drew figured the kid had run through all his game, and he remembered what it was like to be that age, how you could be as smooth as a movie star with the girls, but when it came to another guy, when the cards were on the table…

    After a long moment, Brice released his hand, then got all nervous-looking again. He turned to the sink, set his phone down on the tile shelf under the mirror, and then seemed to just stop, like he had no idea where to go or what to do. But he wasn’t leaving – that much he seemed to know. He looked up and met Drew’s eyes in the mirror, and Drew smiled back at him. The kid had heart, and he sure had balls, approaching Drew like he had – he just maybe needed a little nudge along the path to get where he wanted to be.

    Brice opened his lips to say something – pretty lips, Drew thought, and the thought became intent, and the intent became action, and he reached out and lightly grazed his fingers down the small of the kid’s back. Brice shivered a little, and when Drew looked back up to the mirror, the kid’s eyes were big and hungry and locked on his. He watched the kid slowly turn to face him, and as Brice parted those pretty lips to try and say something again, Drew reached over, hooked his fingers inside the waistband of his shorts, and tugged the kid closer to him. Brice let out something like a gasp, but he didn’t resist Drew’s stronger grip and bigger pull. Up close, he was even cuter, even in the slightly dingy overhead light of the restroom. Drew had no idea what the kid was into, but he figured the way he was looking at him, those shapely, dusky lips parted like they were, he knew where to start.

    Drew ducked his head down towards the kid, feeling the short, excited breaths on his face, and before either of them could talk themselves out of it, pressed his lips to Brice’s. One frozen moment later, Brice started to kiss him back, and then they were both on their way.

    Damn, I’ve missed this, Drew thought as he took the kid’s trim waist in his hands and pushed the kiss deeper, introducing his tongue to Brice’s eager mouth. Kissing a guy was different from kissing a girl – Drew didn’t think either way was necessarily better, they were just different, and each had their own unique appeal. Right now, Brice’s soft, but firm lips were definitely appealing, and so was his tongue, wet and warm and chewing-gum minty, a little tentative as Drew tasted him, then quickly getting with the program and tasting him right back.

    Brice gripped the back of Drew’s neck and moaned a little into his mouth as their tongues dueled, and there was no mistaking the hardness of his cock when he bumped up against Drew’s thigh. When Drew’s hand slipped down of its own accord to cup the muscular swell of the kid’s ass, Brice moaned a little deeper and hunched into him, and this time it was Drew giving the kid the measure of his hardness, as his big dick swelled inside his shorts and pressed into the kid’s hip.

    Once he was completely sure Brice was into it, wasn’t just playing along with him, but playing with him, Drew backed the kid up against the sink and really fed him some tongue, giving him the best he had. It had been awhile since anyone had truly gotten it, after all, and the kid seemed to love it, moaning and hunching against him, his hands gripping the big muscles of Drew’s ex-jock ass and pulling him in tighter, sucking on his tongue, making Drew growl lustily deep in his throat as he gave Brice more of what he wanted.

    Brice wanted more than that, of course, and so did Drew. He let out a lusty murmur as the kid squatted down athletically in front of him, thighs bulging against his cargo shorts, staring fixedly at the big, hard tube of Drew’s cock in his khaki shorts. The kid ran his hand over it, even the light touch sending a sizzle all along its length, and Drew grunted approvingly down at him.

    “You weren’t kidding about being a Large,” Brice said, rubbing his hand over the bulge with more intent as he looked up at Drew, and fuck, in that moment, his face was about the cutest fuckin’ thing Drew had ever seen. Drew grinned at the compliment, nodded in a confident kind of way. He knew what he had, and this kid wasn’t the first to remark on it, but he sure liked hearing it all the same.

    “Why don’t you take it out, and see for yourself?” he suggested, his voice low and husky. Brice looked up at him, then smiled real wide, like a kid being given permission to open a present, and Drew decided that no, now he was the cutest fuckin’ thing he’d ever seen.

    “Fuck yeah, let’s see what you’re packin’ here, big guy,” Brice said, and Drew felt all kinds of good about being buttered up like that.

    He knew the kid was a little nervous still, but it barely showed in the confident, skilled way he popped the button on Drew’s shorts and tugged the zipper down. He let out a little murmur of something like awe when the fullness of Drew’s big bulge came into view, the thickly stretched mound of white cotton framed by his open fly. It was hot, seeing this cute little stud get all wide-eyed at the size of him, and again Drew thought about how he’d missed this whole vibe.

    Drew wriggled his hips a little, making his shorts drop to the floor, and Brice made another appreciative noise at the sight of Drew’s white briefs, all packed with cock and tight on his big ass. He ran his hand over the fabric, a little tentative at first, then looked up at Drew with those appealing eyes, and leaned in and kissed the throb of his big bulge. Drew grunted and touched the back of the kid’s head, encouraging him as he kissed up the length of Drew’s cockbulge, then reached for the waistband.

    “Shit,” Brice breathed as he tugged Drew’s briefs down, and there he was – eight solid, thick inches of hard cock. It never failed to impress, and in the moment, Drew knew this wasn’t going to be the last time he shared himself with another dude like this. He wondered if Emily would be down to let this arrangement between them keep playing out.

    Brice looked focused and determined as he took Drew’s cock in his fist, pumping the length of it with the tip of his tongue stuck out, a single-minded young dude with a hell of a task before him. Then he looked up at Drew with a hungry kind of awe.

    “Nice fuckin’ cock, bro,” the kid said with something like respect in his deep young voice, and man, Drew could get used to that kind of thing. Even as Drew grinned down at him, Brice was tugging his cock down, dropping onto his knees, and opening those pretty lips wide.

    The kid had definitely done this before. He wasn’t coming across like any kind of expert, but definitely a skilled amateur, handling Drew with a mix of hunger and eagerness and skill that showed through in the way he took a couple of long, wet licks of Drew’s cock, tongue curling at the base of his head and licking that sensitive spot there a few times, making Drew start to bubble precum. Brice grunted at that, licking the clear fluid up, and Drew’s whole cockhead throbbed with delight at the sensation. Then Brice slipped his lips over the whole thick head, stretching a little and grunting as he did so, lashing the underside of Drew’s glans with that agile tongue as he slurped on his thickness, and started to inch his way down.

    Skilled or not, Drew was a lot to take on the first go – he’d never had anybody take him all the way down, and much as he was willing to give this kid the benefit of the doubt, and he sure was rooting for him to succeed, they both knew it was a serious job. But Brice gave it his all, one hand on the thick root of Drew’s piece, stroking him there as he inched his lips down to meet his fist, his spit starting to slide down the hot meat of Drew’s cock, helping to slick his stroking fist. He ran his other hand up and down the thick muscle of Drew’s big thigh, grunting appreciatively when Drew tightened the big, long muscle up for him and cupped the back of his handsome young head as he worked.

    Soon Brice’s talented suckjob was starting to get noisy, all wet slurps and smacking lips, two men’s grunts adding to the chorus, starting to echo off the bathroom tile. Brice seemed to have hit his limit maybe four or five inches down Drew’s thickness, but that was OK – he was doing a hell of a job with what he had, all tongue and spit and sweetly suctioning lips, backtracked with happy grunts of cocksucking pleasure as his sliding fist handled the rest.

    Drew watched the kid work, his other hand finding its way up beneath his shirt to the stiff peak of his tit. He caressed the strong, thick muscle of his pec, the engorged nub of his nipple, feeling the hot tingle course down through him, meeting the one coming up from the base of his cock.

    “So fuckin’ good, buddy,” he grunted, getting a happy noise from the kid that buzzed all through his cock and down into his big balls. Drew went up on the balls of his feet at the sensation, making his quads bulge even more, making Brice squeeze them harder, and fuck, it wouldn’t take all that long if the kid kept it up like this.

    Drew thought about opportunity, and seizing the moment, and much and all as it would be hot to pump his cum down this hot kid’s throat, and maybe return the favor for him too if they had time, it almost seemed a shame to waste a solid-gold opportunity like this. He hadn’t fucked another guy’s ass since before he got married, and watching porn on his phone since then, he always felt a kind of wistful pang at missing out on another man’s tail. He loved the shape of a guy’s ass, the hardness of the muscles so different from a woman’s, the feel of hair lining the insides of a man’s cleft, the way flesh stretched tightly over the steel of the muscle beneath.

    “You like to fuck, buddy?” he grunted down to Brice, who looked up at him with big eyes. Fuck, he looked amazing, lips all stretched around the veiny thickness of Drew’s cock, young and cute and eager. That was a face Drew would happily frost, given the opportunity. But the kid had an ass on him too, Drew could see the rounded, defined shape of it over his back, and that was an even better opportunity Drew couldn’t pass up. The one deal he was definitely looking for from this whole day.

    “Yeah man,” Brice grunted after coming up off Drew’s cock real quick, leaving it streaked with a thick sheen of spit, stroking all the warm wetness into the skin with his fist. His voice was thick with his spit, guttural and deep and eager. He looked like a hot kid, but he sounded like a man, now that the two of them had gotten the preliminaries out of the way and were getting down to business like two men do.

    “You’re a big fucker, but yeah, fuck yeah,” he said, staring at Drew’s cock slipping in and out of his fist. “I’ll give it a shot.”

    Drew yanked Brice to his feet and kissed him again, quick and deep, as he tugged at the kid’s polo shirt, yanking it up to get at the button of his shorts, palming the good-sized bulge hiding inside them. Brice pulled out of the kiss with a husky little grunt and yanked his shirt off with a hungry quickness that had Drew remembering some hot times back in the day. Fuck, the kid had a body on him, all tight and defined and firm, a jock kid who clearly knew his way around a gym, and from the even tan all over him, liked to show off the results. 

    Drew ran his big hands over the kid’s torso, grunting appreciatively at the old, familiar, much-missed sensations of another guy’s muscles, and the way Brice tightened up all over for him to appreciate. At the same time, Brice was undoing and wriggling out of his shorts, and he hadn’t been lying earlier – he was an Under Armour guy alright, throwing a very respectable hardon in a pair of white UA boxer briefs that clung to a set of fine, muscular thighs. Drew took the opportunity to palm his solid young cockbulge and feed the kid his tongue again, reaching behind him with his other hand to find the treasure he’d been hoping for – two solid, boxy-muscled buns, flexing tight and hard for him to rub and squeeze as they sucked face and felt each other up.

    An ass like that deserved to be eaten, and Drew used his bigger body and superior strength to manhandle the tight-bodied little stud around, the kid clutching the sink and thrusting his ass out for Drew to drink in the sight.

    “Shit, you got a nice ass, bud,” Drew grunted, running his hands over the squared-off muscles encased in the kid’s UAs. Brice arched his back and pushed his jock tail back even more at that, and Drew wasted no time stripping his boxer briefs off, down the kid’s muscular thighs and off entirely, tossing them on the floor. Then he clapped his hands on the hard young globes, grunting again at the old remembered feeling of strong, solid muscles encased in warm flesh, and dove in.

    “Aw shitttt,” Brice hissed, pushing his ass back to meet Drew’s face as the big guy lapped up and down his dusky crack. Drew growled and licked the kid deep, tongue glazing the little dark hairs in there down to his skin. The kid tasted like a man, clean but musky and animal, and Drew’s mouth literally watered at the taste and the sensations and all the sense memories of hazy college nights coming back in force.

    The kid’s pucker was tight, a little brown knot of muscle, but it yielded to Drew’s big tongue as he licked his way inside the hot little stud, growling again and digging his long fingers deep into the muscular flesh of the kid’s globes as he worked his way up inside of him. He could hear the kid’s moans above him, husky and deep-chested, the sounds of his hands clutching and smacking the porcelain of the sink. Drew could feel the head of his cock, wet and throbbing as it curved back against the muscles of his stomach, as he crouched down to really get up inside this hot kid.

    “Dude, you gotta fuck me,” Brice panted, hand clutching the back of Drew’s head and tugging at it. “I don’t have much longer…”

    That was a goddamn shame, Drew thought, but he finally retracted his tongue with a lewd, wet slurrrrrrrp and slid up the kid’s back, pressing the thick, hot, dripping length of his cock up into the deep furrow of the kid’s ass. They looked each other in the eye as Brice pushed his ass back against Drew’s stiffness and let out a hungry little grunt.

    “You sure about this, kid?” Drew said. “I’m a lot to take.”

    “Fuck,” the kid grunted, a determined look on his face as he nodded. “Maybe so. I could see it the minute you walked in. But I’m gonna give it a fuckin’ shot. Just try me.”

    “Attaboy,” Drew grinned, smacking the solid swell of the kid’s ass and running his hand up his muscled flank.

    Drew tugged his shirt off and tossed it over the sink, and savored the way Brice’s eyes got all big again as the kid took in his powerful frame. The thick mounds of his stiff-nipped pecs, the solid plates of muscle that girded his stomach, the big rounded mass of his shoulders and upper arms. Drew had been a little dubious about CrossFit, but damn if it hadn’t paid off, in spades. Emily had dug the results, but this kid had a kind of hungry awe for his big frame that made his cock throb along its full length.

    “Jesus Christ, you’re a big fucker,” Brice said as he felt Drew up.

    “All of me, buddy,” Drew said, guiding one of Brice’s hands down to his towering, leaking cock, and he wasn’t usually a super-cocky guy, but something about this kid’s almost worshipful awe brought it out in him.

    “For sure, man,” Brice grunted, and leaned up to press hungry lips to Drew’s, his tongue lashing inside his mouth, as he fisted Drew’s big cock to prime his pump some more.

    Brice retrieved a rubber and a little bottle of lube from his pocket, and seemed a little embarrassed when Drew chuckled at how prepared he was.

    “I come up here to rub a load out sometimes,” the kid said, blushing a little, nodding at the bottle of lube.

    “Right on, bro,” Drew chuckled, holding out his fist for Brice to bump, which the kid did with a big boyish grin. Brice held his eyes as he tore the rubber open with his teeth, breaking eye contact just long enough to pull it from the foil and settle it on the big head of Drew’s cock.

    “Shit, this might not be big enough,” Brice muttered, and damn Drew loved hearing that.

    “Only one way to find out,” he said, pulling the kid’s handsome head in to kiss him again as Brice rolled the rubber slowly down Drew’s pulsing shaft.

    Drew spotted the baby change table out of the corner of his eye, and laughed to himself, into Brice’s hungry mouth.

    “What, man?” Brice panted as Drew broke the kiss and reached for the table’s handle.

    “My wife’s about to have our first kid,” Drew said. “Probably gonna be using these things a lot, so might as well figure them out now.”

    Brice got all big-eyed at that, eyes flicking down to Drew’s wedding ring.

    “Ah man,” he said. “Shit, I didn’t know -”

    “It’s cool,” Drew said, reaching out to manhandle the kid’s solid, throbbing cock for the first time. A respectable young dude dick, nicely thick, a little over six handsome inches. Felt good, throbbing in his hand. “She’s cool. We’re cool. C’mon.”

    Drew tugged on the baby change table, and it seemed solid enough, so he patted the surface, and watched with an amused grin as Brice put one knee up on it tentatively, then hauled the rest of himself up onto it, chuckling a little nervously. That gave Drew another sterling view of the kid’s ass, the boxy muscles shifting as he moved, and he stroked his big, sweaty palms over the dusky-skinned globes. Brice stopped moving and let him have at it, letting out a grunt as Drew spread those fine glutes open, then hocked up a wad of spit and shot it right at his little brown pucker. Drew rubbed it into the kid’s already spitshined hole with one big thumb, pushing inside him a little, then squirted a stream of lube over the top of that, working it inside the kid’s tight, hot little hole. He was a big guy, and considerate, and he’d had plenty of experience prepping a partner for his thickness. This kid was no different, and Drew made sure to get him good and slick, until the dark hair lining his trench was matted down and shiny with lubey slickness. And then, it was time for the big show to start.

    The kid had been tight around his tongue and his fingers, and felt even tighter around his cock as Drew carefully, but determinedly pressed it inside of him. He rubbed the strong muscles of Brice’s back as the kid’s instincts kicked in and he tried to tense up, and kept on pressing, feeling the kid’s buttery, slick hole starting to give, to open up to him once more. Then all of a sudden, the kid’s hole gave, and Drew was pushing inside his hot, slick tightness, both of them grunting, Brice’s more of a moan, as Drew took his trim hips in hand and kept on pressing inside. All the old technique came back to him, things he’d filed away in the spank-bank portion of his memories, his eyes savoring the sight of the kid’s back muscles shifting and tensing, the muscles of his ass spreading open, the sight of his big wet fuckstick breaching the jock kid’s hole, and slipping further and further on in.

    “God damn, buddy,” Drew grunted through clenched teeth as he felt Brice’s insides pulsating around him, gripping him like hot velvet as they opened to him, letting him go deeper and deeper. Brice just moaned back, out of pleasure or discomfort Drew couldn’t tell, but when he reached underneath him, he could feel how hard the kid was.

    Fuck, I’ve missed bottoms, 
    Drew thought, and smiling to himself, fed Brice’s hole the last of his eight inches.

    “You took it all, stud,” Drew murmured, running an appreciative hand over the fine muscles of Brice’s back as he let the kid get used to him, throbbing and pulsing all around his cock.

    “Fuckin’ shit,” Brice grunted tightly, looking over his shoulder and up at Drew, his forehead all dewy with sweat. “You big fuck.”

    “Damn right,” Drew grinned, throbbing his cock inside the kid, watching his eyes get all unfocused as he moaned, then clenched all around Drew’s cock in response.

    “C’mon, fuck me then, man,” Brice grunted, his eyes all lusty again.

    “Yeah kid?” Drew said, throbbing him again, and loving the eager nod he got in response.

    “Yeah,” Brice grinned, rotating his hips a little. “Fuck me with that big-ass cock, Daddy,” he said, and Drew never would’ve expected the fucking charge he got from being called that. He growled in response, smacked the kid’s ass with a solid hand, making the flesh jiggle in a way that made his balls sing, and started to give the kid what he wanted.

    Brice wanted a lot, maybe more than he thought he did at first, and Drew sure had plenty to give him. The kid was built to fuck, or more precisely, to get fucked, working his fine jockboy ass, his hips, the muscles in his back and arms bulging under his tawny skin. Soon enough, the rhythmic smack-smack-smack of Drew’s hips against Brice’s ass started to fill the room, echoing back off the tiles. Drew’s legs and ass were getting a total workout, up on the balls of his feet to keep hitting the kid’s insides just right, and he relished the glowing burn inside them meeting up with the sizzle along the length of his cock. But he was starting to hear the creak of the change table’s hinges, too, and maybe if Brice’s weight were more evenly distributed…

    “Roll over, bro,” Drew panted, pulling out of Brice in one long, smooth motion, patting the kid’s hip, then taking hold of it to help guide him over. “Wanna see you when I make you cum.”

    “Ah fuck you’re hot,” Brice gasped, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe it, as he rolled onto his back and let Drew grab hold of his hips and drag his ass to the edge of the table.

    “Yeah, so are you, bud,” Drew growled, grinning down at him lustily as he lined the head of his cock up to Brice’s pouty hole again, and slid on back inside of him.

    Face to face gave Brice a chance to feel Drew up all over again, exploring the pump he was getting from fucking the kid, and god, it was addictive, getting explored and admired like that from somebody who was new to him and his body. He returned the favor, big hands all over Brice’s torso, hard young muscles densely packed under his tawny skin. He’d almost forgotten how good it felt to explore another guy, knowing he could really use his hands, feel him up properly, be strong with him, and that this built young dude could take it and ask for more. He reached up to tweak the kid’s tits, and Brice writhed and moaned and fucked back against him as best he could.

    Drew took hold of Brice’s muscular calves and hoisted the kid’s legs up, keeping hold of them as he fucked deep inside of him, his hips taking over from his head, delivering the fuck both of them needed him to give. Brice reached up and tweaked his big, stiff nips, making Drew growl and thrust harder and deeper, in turn making Brice moan and smile and close his eyes in pleasure as he spurred the big guy on.

    “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, man,” the kid panted, looking up at Drew, his eyebrows drawn together, mouth hanging open as he panted. “C’mon, big guy. Fuck me off, bro.”

    “Yeah, you want Daddy to fuck the cum outta you, huh kid?” Drew grinned, and Brice moaned louder and grabbed for his tits again, the hot intensity of his lust written all over his handsome young face.

    Shit, Drew was ready. Maybe if they were someplace more comfortable, more private, had more time, he could really luxuriate in his return to manfucking, really make this kid’s toes curl, take it long and deep and go for a couple loads apiece, just like the good old days. But what him and this kid had right now, all horny and furtive and urgent, was hot in its own right, hot and lusty and sweaty, meant to be all fast and hungry. He let go of one of Brice’s hard-muscled calves and reached down for the kid’s handsome cock, spitting in his palm as he went and wrapping it around the hot, throbbing hardness of the young dude’s piece, making Brice moan all over again and bite his lip. God, but it felt good to hold another man’s cock in his hand again, feel the throb and heat of it, the topography of veins ridging the shaft, the pulsing, leaking sponginess of his cockhead.

    Brice grabbed his other hand and pulled it back to his stiff brown tit, hooking his calves over Drew’s big shoulders, which changed the angle of Drew’s cock, making them both moan as he hit him inside in all kinds of new ways. Drew didn’t need to be told what this hot little fucker needed. He jacked Brice’s sturdy cock with one hand, pinched his engorged nip with the other, and grinned down at the handsome young stud.

    “Show me how you cum, buddy,” he growled at him. “Cum for Daddy.”

    “Aw SHIT!!!” Brice hollered, writhing under Drew’s hands, and started to pump his cum, his cock throbbing in Drew’s spit-slicked grasp, shooting hot creamy jets up the dusky clutch of his abs, up between his pecs, panting and moaning and clutching Drew’s cock rhythmically with his insides as he spurted his young jock seed.

    Drew was surprised at how quickly that triggered him off, moaning deep in his chest as he felt his cock fuck past the tipping point, thrusting up hard inside the kid’s hot, clutching guts and blasting off inside the rubber. He held on tight to the kid’s writhing form as he shot what felt like the biggest load he’d spent in a good six months or more, feeling fresh sweat break out on his forehead as his cock hummed and throbbed and squirted its payload.

    The change table creaked under them again as Brice flopped back, muscled young chest heaving, glowing with his cum and sweat, and Drew leaned forward to rest on his hands, either side of the kid’s good-looking head. His cock continued to throb inside the warm clutch of Brice’s hole. He wasn’t sure if he was ever going to go soft. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to.

    Fuuuuuuck, dude,” Brice panted, grinning up at him, fingers playing with the cum streaked up his muscular torso. Drew grinned back at him and nodded, his big chest heaving as he finally regulated his breath, starting to feel his big piece softening. He worked it slowly, reluctantly back out of Brice’s well-fucked hole, then skinned the rubber off carefully.

    “Shit, man, you came a fuckin’ bucket,” Brice said, sitting up to look at the heavy load making the tip of the rubber hang low. Drew gave him an amused look as the kid hefted the suspended rubber in his palm, and grinned up at him almost admiringly.

    “You fuckin’ stud,” Brice said, nodding. “No wonder you’re gonna be a daddy.”

    Suddenly Drew felt a little uneasy about having told the kid that. There’d been no need for him to know. But shit, he was proud of himself. For being a man, for creating another life, and hell, for still being able to fuck this hot young dude well, just like he used to.

    Still got it, bud, he thought to himself and smiled.

    “Pretty fuckin’ studly yourself, bro,” Drew said, and Brice gave him that cute-sexy grin and curled up to kiss him again.

    Clean-up didn’t take long, Brice looking mildly panicked when he checked his phone.

    “Shit man, I gotta get moving,” he said, tugging his store polo over his head and tucking it into his shorts. “Boss’ll have my ass if I’m late back from break.”

    “Twice in one day, huh,” Drew said, winking at him in the mirror as he smoothed his own shirt down, made sure he was all squared away. Brice rolled his eyes at him, but laughed.

    “Fuck, I should be so lucky,” he said, turning to look Drew over again, like he was committing his big, handsome form to memory. He paused a minute, then added a little hesitantly, “I’m done at 4, if you get another chance…”

    Drew thought about it, already feeling a tingle of interest deep in his belly. Pictured him pounding another load out of this hot young dude in the back seat of his rented SUV, behind the dark-tinted glass, maybe out in the deserted loading docks behind the dead Sears.

    “Maybe,” Drew said, thinking for a second about his in-laws’ big, empty house, the stifling quiet of their gated community. Thinking already about the hot, sweaty tightness of Brice’s young musculature, the throb of his eager young cock in Drew’s fist. How that hard young dick might taste. How long it had been since his last time with another guy, and how long it might be before his next shot at it.

    “I’m here another few days yet,” he said, relishing the way Brice grinned at that. “Here, put your number in my phone, and we’ll see what happens.”

    Once they were both straightened out, Brice led the way to the door. As he was leaving, Drew looked to the wall behind the bay change station. DILFS RULE, somebody had scrawled there in spiky letters with a Sharpie. In a funny way, it felt like a portent of his whole future.

    “Fuck yeah we do,” Drew murmured to himself, grinning as he followed Brice out the door.

    The End

    (Copyright A4F Tales 2020)


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  • Alex Finds me Bound and Blindfolded

    I like being tied up in speedos, I like tying other people up in speedos.  I think this comes from some of my very first sexual experiences where a friend and I would get horny, watch porn together and fool around (summer in Australia and of course we would end up wearing only our speedos).  We both put our cocks in each other mouth, I’m not entirely sure why but we would sit on a chair, tie our hands behind our backs, turn off the lights… maybe we though it wasn’t as gay that way – hahaha.  We never ended up making each other cum, we would duck off to the bathroom when it became too much.

    I think i was up for more but my friend was never quite as horny as I was.
    Thankfully, now that I am older, my friends are up for more and are just as horny as I am.

    This is something I started writing about on my blog two years ago and thought I should finish it up with all the details.

    First off, I live in a crappy, tiny little old house which sucks, but it is right on the ocean about an hour and a half north of Sydney. I don’t lock the door on my house and my mates keep their surf boards on my back deck and rock up all the time which is great. One of those mates is Alex whom I had been fucking for about six months when this experience happened. Neither Alex nor I are out to our friends at all, they would be fine with it but might make things weird.

    When Alex began exploring his homosexual tendencies we both discussed our fantasies and it was part of one of those discussions that is how this whole thing came about.

    One Wednesday afternoon, Alex texted me to say he was super horny and coming over. I replied saying I had something in mind but he better be quick.

    I dropped my shorts and low and behold, I was wearing a red speedo (I’m Dave Speedo Evans, of course I was wearing a speedo).

    Then I placed a wooden chair from my tiny dinner table in my tiny living room, I grabbed some rope out of my room (again, of course I have rope). First, I tied my legs to the chair, then I tied my torso to the chair, I blindfolded and gagged myself with tape and then I used handcuffs to tie my arms behind me. I could untie myself but it would take me a while.

    Every car that I could hear drive past got my heart racing, finally Alex’s car pulled out the front, well, what I hoped was Alex’s car. He rapped his knuckles on the front door and opened it (everyone just walks into my house). Alex was about to announce his arrival and was stopped half way through the word Dave (how you doing mate? would have been the rest of his introduction had he not seen me tied up, gagged and blindfolded in my red speedos.

    Alex didn’t speak any more but I gasped, as well as I could manage to gasp, when he touched my erect cock through the red lycra of my speedos.

    He started rubbing my cock, it felt amazing. His second hand was rubbing my balls, which from previous experience, Alex knows I like. It wasn’t long until I climaxed filling my speedo with my cum. I had to calm myself down a little bit because I could only breath through my nose and it was intense!

    It only took a couple of minutes but by the time I was done, I was horny. Horny not just for what Alex might do to me, but horny at the thought of someone else walking in and seeing me like this.

    I was still recovering, my cock still spasming when I felt Alex straddling me. I’m guessing he stripped down to his speedos or maybe naked because I could feel his naked thighs on my legs. He sat down on me but even without all of his weight the chair groaned.

    Alex’s left hand was on my right shoulder and he was jerking off. He told me that it was going to be one hell of a mess. Imagine now if one of out straight friends walked in the door?

    It was Alex’s breathing that was the first indication that he was cumming, the second was his hot cum on my stomach. Immediately it started oozing down towards the waist of my speedos and I could feel it dripping down.

    As Alex regained his breath now he stood up. He rummaged around, I’m assuming getting dressed all the while the cum inside my speedo was oozing down past my balls towards my arse and his cum was oozing into the top of my speedos off my tummy and there was one drip that was slowly making its way around my left hip.

    Then Alex said to me, perhaps ordered me, to count to five hundred and then I could untie myself. He also said he hoped that one of our friends would walk in the door before five hundred was up and I’d have to explain myself.


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  • Benj Loves My Cream

    So, in my first four chapters, I told you about my first few months with my love, Benj. Quick recap (can you picture me ticking off my fingers?): In chapter one, I introduced you to Benj and his condition. Basically, my babe has an extreme cum-swallowing compulsion (my “cream” – his words, not mine). Chapter two, I shared how I decided I needed to start training him to take my cum in his mouth *and* his ass.  Chapter three is just a joyful recount of the second time I planted a big load in Benj’s ass and kept him leaking through a brunch with his friends.

    Chapter four is a personal fave about the first time I woke Benj with my dick in his ass – the third time I made his ass overflow with my cream. I actually love this memory so much that, over the years, I’ve woken in the middle of the night thinking about that night. So you probably can guess what I usually do, right? I do a faithful reenactment, of course. 😉

    While I’m generally trying to recount things in chronological order, for this chapter, I think I’ll temporarily spring forward a bit to share a non-creampie memory I’ve been thinking of recently…

    This is a little over a year into our relationship, and I was working on our taxes. Now, we weren’t married or civil unioned or anything. We weren’t even technically living together – though, by that point, that was more due to our not being able to exit our respective leases than our not wanting to live together. So why was I doing our (still separate) taxes? Because I’m good at it, don’t mind it, and Benj hates it. So, being a good boyfriend, I offered to do his, too. And he accepted that offer with the eagerness he usually reserves for sucking my dick. Good BF points, ka-ching!

    Now, I’ve described Benj before – his curly brown hair, hazel eyes, muscular body with big furry pecs and firm belly (no six-pack; my boy likes to eat), and a big amazing ass. If I were trying to be objective, I’d say that his face is more striking than conventionally handsome. His nose is probably a bit too strong and his mouth a bit too wide to fit that particular bill. But, to me, of course, he’s gorgeous and sex-on-legs. Well, this chapter focuses on his pecs – specifically, his nipples. Benj has beautiful thick perky nips – not unusually large or anything, but big enough that they’re noticeable through a shirt, especially given that his big pecs already draw the eyes to his chest.

    Well, Benj is of two minds about his nips. On the one hand, he’s a bit self-conscious about them. So if he’s going to work or anything the least bit conservative, he’ll be sure to wear a thick t-shirt beneath his shirt so they’re not prominent. On the other hand, he’s vain enough to like the effect they have on many men – particularly, me. And he’s not averse to using them to his advantage.

    See, our relationship doesn’t really fit what I’d consider a classic dom-sub arrangement. At first glance it might appear that way because Benj needs to suck my dick every day and the act of sucking dick strikes many as inherently subservient. On top of that, as you know from the prior chapters, I’ve had to take a firm hand to Benj to get my sexual needs fully met. If it were up to him, then or now twelve years later, Benj would always go for swallowing my load. That’s just how his brain and sexual desires work. So, the only way I’ve been able to breed him all these years is by conditioning my dick on him giving up his ass.

    So, yes, there’s *some* dom-sub there, but, beyond that, Benj’s not submissive. He has zero problem letting me know what he wants, when he wants it. But it’s not all him demanding “gimme dick,” he definitely knows how to coax me, manipulate me or outright bargain with me (another story there soon) to get what he wants. This was one of those coaxing times.

    That night, when I started working on our taxes, he went off to the gym. All cool. I saw him put on his gym shorts and a loose tank top. This type of loose tank top you will have noticed guys wearing before. It’s the type with large arm holes that barely covers the chest. I call it the “nip slip” tank because whenever guys wear them (whether they’re stacked or not), any movement, whether walking or lifting weights, will cause the tank to shift – and out slips the nipple.

    For whatever reason, I find these nip slips to be crazy hot – hotter even than a fully bare-chested man. There’s just something about seeing the curve of a man’s pec from the side and watching knowing that any moment – pow – out pops a nipple and pec. It’s like a continuous striptease. I’ve sprung many an inopportune boner at gyms when some guy wears one of these tanks.

    Benj knew this. He also knew that I wasn’t crazy about him wearing them at gyms. For me, the tanks are pure sex – it’s practically jerking your dick in someone’s face. Now, I had no worries that Benj was going to cheat on me – he’s amazingly loyal and completely uninterested in other guys’ cum. But, still, I wasn’t in love with the idea of him being ogled throughout his workout. Let’s just call it a mild form of jealousy or possessiveness.

    And, as I said, Benj knew that it riled me up. So, for him, that was the entire point. He usually was pretty horny post-workout and wanted my special protein shake. That was pretty much business as usual for us. But his wearing that tank? That was a preemptive shot across my bow that my boy was already feeling antsy and would be expecting satisfaction upon his return. Totally fine. He saw me look him over, knew his message had been received, then left the apartment.

    The problem was, upon his return, I was not in a good frame of mind. The numbers in the tax software were not reconciling and I was trying to figure out what the problem was – was it a data entry problem or a bigger problem? So I was annoyed and focused on figuring that out. And I didn’t pay him sufficient attention upon returning all swole and sweaty, like I’d normally do.

    Now, usually I’m a big proponent of blowjobs as the cure for life’s frustrations. Come home annoyed about something that happened at work? Sit down, blow your load down a man’s talented throat, and, 9 times out of 10, things will feel a lot better. But my frustration then was more of the intensely focused, near neurotic kind.

    So Benj was annoyed. But Benj is also not easily put off. There are times he’ll literally grab me by the dick. Like I said, he’s no submissive. But this time he went for the seduction track.

    After walking around in my field of vision apparently didn’t work, he upped the effort. Standing near me, he bunched the front of his tank, so both pecs popped out. “Colin, remind me not to buy this brand again.

    “Hmm, ok.” (I was still in tax land)

    “Something about the material chafes like a bitch.”

    “Mmm-hmm, that’s annoying.”

    “See, look how sore they are!” I looked up, really looked up, and he was lightly teasing his nips with his two index fingers. I had to laugh. Big boner in his shorts aside, it was obvious what he was doing.

    He smiled and approached me. “See, feel how bad it is!” I reached up and lightly squeezed his left nip.

    “The other one, too!” At this point, I’m just rubbing and stroking both his nips.

    He then put his chest right in my face, so his left nip is hovering near my mouth. I could smell him, his scent sharpened by the sweat from his workout. God, I loved it – something about it just lit up the pleasure centers of my brain.

    So I leaned forward and flicked it with my tongue. I’d meant to tease him a bit, but, just one salty tasty lick, and I had thrown patience and playing out the window. My mouth latched on to that nipple sucking for all its worth, while my hand played with his other nip. And my tongue worked that nip. Benj liked his nips licked, sucked, flicked, squeezed, and teased – but not bitten. His nips were sensitive and he was not into pain there at all. I have some biting tendencies but I’ve learned to reserve them for biting his shoulder or neck when I’m railing him. In the heat of passion, with a dick in his ass, it’s the only time I can get away with it, ha.

    Anyway, I’d licked and sucked one nip, then moved over to the other. After it got its fair share of attention, my mouth had expanded, trying to take in more and more of his big pec. He knew he had me now, so he dropped down and pulled me onto the carpeted floor. And, before I knew it, my pants were pulled off. He also wasn’t in a teasing mood anymore, so he went straight to business, sucking hard for all his worth. When he’s horned up like that, he likes to go for the dick hard so he can rip a load out of me and move straight into a second, more leisurely suck.

    Benj gripped my dick hard with his right hand, jerking it up and down, while his mouth sucked hard at the head – like I said, he meant business. With that tight, wet friction, I wasn’t going to last long and soon was groaning that I was about to cum. Now, my “gonna cum!” warnings for Benj are, of course, not the polite types you give a guy when you don’t know whether he’s into swallowing or not. For Benj, it was an alert so he could take his cream the way he was in the mood for. Some times, he likes to dive down and feel my cum hit the back of his throat as he swallows. Other times, he likes to catch it full on his tongue, so he can savor the taste of it before swallowing it down.

    This time, however, he was in a messier mood than usual. At my warning, he jerked my dick faster and kept his mouth loose over the head, swirling with his tongue. When I started shooting, he opened his mouth wide, so the cum shot mostly into his mouth. He swallowed some but let his mouth hang open so some of my cum spilled back out and onto my dick and his right hand. Not his usual style – he usually doesn’t waste a drop.

    As I recovered my breath, he proceeded to lick my cum off his fingers, then lap at the cum pooled around my crotch. He then began to slowly lick my dick up and down, moaning. Now, my dick was still hard and would stay that way, but the head was sensitive. So, after each lick up, Benj just flicked the head a bit with his tongue. Some licks he would prod my slit a bit, trying to coax my precum (post-precum? ha!) into flowing again.

    Now, these second sessions are usually leisurely, ten to twenty minutes. Benj’s mouth is a tireless medical marvel. I was just lying there, enjoying my mental float and Benj’s talented mouth, but I soon cottoned on to the fact that Benj was still a bit frantic, even with a large dollop of cream in his belly. He was licking my dick a little more rapidly than usual, and he was lapping at the head a bit more aggressively. His moans had also gotten louder.

    And so I realized that he wanted this to be a three-cum session. I can cum three times without much issue, but I need to do intense-intense-then leisurely. I can’t go intense-leisurely-then leisurely again, which was why Benj was trying to ratchet things back up. He angled his body toward me, so I could see the full side of his chest and heaving pecs through his tank and his workout shorts. He had a big bulge and even a wet spot from his leaking dick.

    I gamely reached out and stroked his dick through his shorts, then reached over and resumed stroking his nips. It was all really hot, of course, but I guess my mind was still more “floating” than “fucking.”

    Benj must’ve sensed this and so hopped up. “Be right back!” He then dashed to the bathroom.

    He came back a couple of minutes later, completely naked, except for his white socks. He then dropped back down to the floor and began warming my cold cock back up with his mouth. I propped my back up some and admired his curly head bobbing up and down on my dick. Felt amazing and would’ve been an awesome leisurely session. But, as I said, Benj was still frantic.

    After a few minutes of reacquainting my dick with his mouth, Benj again angled his naked body so he was sucking me almost perpendicular. Still hoovering my dick, he grabbed my right hand and put it on his hard dick. I knew he didn’t want me to jerk him off – he wouldn’t want to cum until his mental cum lever had been properly pulled – so I just stroked it a bit, trying to get more horned up.

    He then surprised me by taking my hand and pushing it past his taint, up to his hole. Now, assplay is a bit of a contradiction for us. Benj is a total bottom who loves his ass to be licked and played with, but he’ll rarely initiate assplay. Why? Because my playing with his ass usually led to me sticking my dick in his ass. And my Benj has a cum compulsion. He wants to swallow my load more than he wants his ass played with – hence, I’m the one who usually initiates it.

    So, for Benj, this was the sex equivalent of playing with fire. He really, really wanted to swallow a couple more loads right then and needed me really horned up to get it. And since I hadn’t responded adequately to the usual inducements – hard sucking, moans, big sweaty pecs, hard leaking dick – he was willing to gamble with his ultimate enticement, his perfect hole.

    I was such an ass man that there was no question that playing with Benj’s hole would fire me up. The only question was whether I’d push Benj to the floor and plant my seed deep in his ass. And he was apparently willing to risk it all, lol. My fingers dances around the rim of his hole – and it was slick! He’d actually lubed up when undressing. He really, really was playing with fire.

    I skooched closer to him so I could really sink a couple of my fingers into his hot hole. God, it was so hot and slick, and he continued to moan while he sucked my dick. My dick went from hard to painfully-hard like that. I crooked my finger so I could prod his joy-button, and a long string of precum oozed out of his thick dick. With my other hand, I reached out and caught it on my fingers, before licking it off.

    We continued like this for a few minutes and I knew I’d blow soon. I was fired up but wanted to fuck. I said: “Benj, get down.”

    He looked up at me and whimpered a bit, but then lifted his mouth off my dick and swiveled around. He then laid his chest and face against the carpet, with his legs wide and ass up – a perfect downward dog, ready to be mounted.

    God, I loved my man. I knew what he wanted but he’d assumed the position without complaint. Hell, I’d already given him big dollop of cream to savor. By all rights, I could dick his ass down and not even be a totally selfish bastard, ha.

    But, this time, the ass presentation would have to be enough. I crawled over, placed my hands on his ass, then guided him to flip over onto his back. I then crawled over him so we were in a 69-position, and I fed him my dick. His entire body shivered with pleasure as he realized I was going to feed him again.

    Honestly, I’m not a huge fan of face-fucking or 69-ing. When I’m getting my dick sucked, I like to enjoy the sensation while my hands roam. When I’m sucking a dick, I like to enjoy the taste, smells and sounds involved. So doing both at the same time generally diminishes the experience of one or the other too much. As for face-fucking, you don’t get the delicious friction of an ass or the pleasures from a talented tongue – plus, there’s more teeth.

    But my dick and pelvis were yelling “fuck something,” so I sank my dick in Benj’s hungry mouth rather than his ass. Though face-fucking’s not usually my thing, Benj can take it like a champ, with extreme pleasure. So I pushed in deep and held it there so he’d choke a bit, the way he likes, then proceeded to pump my dick in and out of his mouth. While he frantically sucked, drool flowing out of his mouth.

    I didn’t suck his dick (as he wouldn’t want to cum just yet), but just gave it little licks and nuzzled his sweaty balls. And my hands gripped his legs for support.

    As I felt myself getting close, I took my right hand and again plunged my fingers into his hot, sweaty, lubed hole. Feeling that pot of gold tipped my mind over the edge and I came what felt like buckets down Benj’s throat. His dick was hard and swollen like a rocket, glistening with his precum. He shivered all over again as he swallowed, doing the whimper thing I love.

    After I finished cumming and Benj had literally squeezed my dick of every last drop, I rolled off him and back onto the carpet. And we just both laid there for a bit, just enjoying the glow. Benj idly tugged on his hard dick, so I knew he still wanted a third load. If he’d been sated by that second, he’d be doing something, or getting me to do something, so he could fully cum himself.

    After a few minutes, I was sick of the floor and got up. Looking down at Benj, I could see that though he wasn’t sated, his frantic edge had been taken off by that second load. So I went over to the couch and sat down, turning on the TV to some mindless program. Benj would come over when he was ready.

    He soon came over and I widened my legs so he could kneel down between them. I’d had two intense orgasms and was totally good there. He needed another from me and I was content to give it to him. But he’d have to put the work in for it, not me. Of course, he’d never consider it ‘work,’ ha.

    It took him a while to nurse that third load out of me, but my trooper of a dick duly spilled more cream down his throat. Only then did Benj quickly jerk himself off.

    Later that night, I finished our taxes. You know the look when your partner is especially pleased with you? Well, Benj looked like that for several days straight, ha – he looked at me like I hung the moon! Though we got off plenty of times over those days, I was the guys who, when he was in an especially manic moment, deposited three large loads in his belly – and did his taxes! 😉


    Hopefully, you enjoyed this window into my life with Benj. This series is my first time writing about it, so if ya liked it, please drop me a note (or some photos, ha): [email protected]. More tales to come. I’m a lucky, lucky man.

    -Colin


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