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Smooth Ass Rammed

webmaster — Sat, 04 Sep 2010 18:55:21 +0000

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I felt Mike enter the shower, immediately rubbing against my wet body, his cock poking at my ass. He’d already had me inside out last night, yet I still felt the urge to feel him spreading my hole wide and, apparently he did as well. I turned my body around, his arms along side of my head preventing me from moving very far. He looked at me with his piercing eyes as he pushed his tongue into my mouth. His cock rubbed mine, the friction created by his hips swiveling against me made me immediately hard.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want more Kevin, I can see it in your eyes.” He said, as he pulled his face back slightly and raised my arms over my head. “I’ll take you when I want, you’ll like it when I do too.” His body pressed against mine, his dick rubbing along mine, felt feeling so much thicker than mine.

I tried to lower my arms, to press them against his chest and separate us, but he prevented me. Instead his left hand ran from my neck, over my chest and down my abs while his right held my wrists over my head. His touch made me moan out, once more longing for his touch, longing for him to please me.

Before last night I had never taken the submissive role in any relationship, it wasn’t in me, or so I thought. I tried to remember how I had gotten into this position when I heard his husky voice speak with an authority that made my cock twitch

“Down,” he said matter of fact as he pushed on my shoulders, “Get down there and suck my cock.”

I tried to resist but soon my back slid against the wet tile wall, my lips grazing his body until his cock bumped against my chin. He pulled his hips back, sliding his cock along my chin until it touched the soft opening of the hole he wanted. I looked and wondered how his thick mushroom shaped head ever pushed past the muscle that held my hole closed.

He pressed his cock against my lips, yelling for me to open up. His head pushed harder, almost hurting my lips as much as it hurt my ass last night. My head banged against the tile, his massive hand gripping my wet hair, tugging as the head of his cock began shoving its way past my lips.

His cock leaked its pre orgasmic drool as I sucked down on it. Mike took my hands, raising them and holding them against the wall leaving me prone, giving him the upper hand to fuck my mouth as gently or as rough as he wished. He started gently, slowly inching his thickness in until the head poked my throat. I sucked, running my tongue over the veins, feeling the power I had to please him. He kept this up, slowly pulling back and slowly thrusting back in until my nose pressed against his pubic bone.

Mike pulled out until I was sucking on just the head and he moved his foot to rub my dick causing me to moan and lap his slit, wanting more of his juice. I shifted my hips trying desperately to press my cock against his foot with more pressure. He pressed harder pinning my meat between my abs and the sole of his foot while pushing into my mouth. I could feel him throb and sucked down harder knowing it wouldn’t be long before he shot his load and gave me the taste I was craving.

The wet sound made from sucking stopped when Mike pulled completely from my mouth. I looked up in disappointment as he grabbed my hair and began begin pulling me up. He pulled my face to his and slid his in tongue between my lips as if he wanted to make sure his pre-cum had left a taste. Just as quickly as his cock pulled out of my mouth, so did his tongue and I felt his large hands turning me around. He pushed on my upper back until my face was sideways against the tile. I could feel his tongue teasing my ear as his hand wrapped around my engorged member.

His hot breath whispered into my ear that it was time he fucked me, that his balls were hard and tight, his come ready to surge through his cock and flood my hole with seed. I felt his hands grab my hips, pulling back as his legs forced mine to spread. With barely a rub he began pressing in. I gasped, pushing back, feeling the muscle finally give way to his need. Mike began uttering dirty words, forcing his cock to probe further. When I felt his pubes scratch the soft skin of my ass, his teeth bit into my shoulder, I yelled out at him as I pushed back.

Before long the friction of his chest against my back was gone, his grip on my ass cheeks tightened, spreading them further to give him a view of his cock fucking my tight hole. My cock drooled as my hand moved down to give it some much needed attention. I yelled a curse word when Mike slapped my ass hard, telling me not to touch myself. I groaned but moved my hand back up against the wall, bracing myself as his thrusts became more forceful. His wet hips slapped against me, the sound echoing in the tiled surroundings surround.

“Fuck yea Kev; you like this. I can feel your ass clench around me, milking my cock for its load.” He pulled almost completely out rubbing my prostate the entire time before ramming his cock home. I heard his grunt as I felt the warm creamy seed spurt into my ass. He continued until his balls had emptied and my hole was filled. Without seeming to care about me he pulled his softening dick out of my twitching ass.

My legs were weak and I needed to sit, but Mike turned me around, holding me up. His eyes looked into mine as he said, “I’d knew you’d like fucking in the shower.” His lips formed a slight smirk before covering mine as if to say thanks. I was still leaking pre-cum, my balls were beginning to ache when he handed me the soap, telling me to wash his cock clean and to be gentle about it, he was still post orgasm sensitive.

“Mike, I need to come, I need to get off,” I pleaded softly. His only response was a soft moan, feeling my soapy hands washing his dick. The feeling of his come slowly leaking out of me was only serving to make my balls ache more. When he felt he was sufficiently clean he pulled way and turned his body to let the water rinse. I moved behind him, hugging his body with my arms and laying my face against his broad back.

His fingers pulled my hands from his chest, “Clean yourself up but don’t get yourself off. I wanna see that cock leaking and your balls hard when you get out of the shower” I watched as he stepped out and grabbed a towel, leaving me. I leaned against the tile, my hand wrapping around my cock unable to control myself. His bark giving me reason to open my eyes, “Don’t do it,” he said, “You’ll regret it. Get yourself clean, ready for more and back into my bed before you piss me off.”

When I walked back into the bedroom Mike wasn’t there as I had expected. Trailing from the bedpost I saw lengths of rope. My still hard cock jerked even more. I felt his hand pull my towel away and turned to look. He pointed to the bed and pushed me in the direction. I lay down and he straddled my hips, my erection rubbed rubbing against his shorts. “That was smart, to not get off, that’s being my good cocksucker.”

Mike moved up my body, taking my arms, using the rope to secure my wrists. His shorts tented as he rubbed against my face. When he moved away and got off the bed I began to panic. Standing at the end of the bed was his friend Troy, tossing his shirt to the floor and reaching to undo his jeans. I looked up at Mike, he winked, his lips forming a sinister grin. He reached down giving my painfully erect cock a few strokes. I felt his finger rub the head, getting it wet with my pre-cum before bringing it to my lips.

“Kev,” he began, “I told Troy what a cockslut you’ve become, he wanted to see for himself.”

Anal Fuck And Cum

webmaster — Fri, 03 Sep 2010 01:55:21 +0000

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Harry Bolton had been in Beirut about a year. He was one of the more noticeable gems in the motley collection of expatriates from this or that Western country who centered our lives on the American University of Beirut for a taste of the cultures we otherwise, and for different reasons, were escaping. He was an academic from a rather vague, but obviously wealthy, American background, and was a very good looking blond. Lean and supple, clean and fresh, he looked like a retired model in whatever he wore. In winter, loose cuffed corduroys and casual shirts, with a simple cashmere jacket. In summer, well, whatever he wore, he looked good in. The package was topped off by a full head of golden blond hair and youthful blue eyes. I was vaguely aware via rumors why he was here, but all I cared was that he was here.

We had met several times, but he always seemed so sophisticated and aloof that I was afraid to approach him. And when he had spoken to me, I had lost my voice. I ached for him, but could do nothing about it but confide my passion for him to Arnold, a British importer tucked away here more or less in hiding from several European governments.

“Him?” Arnold said, “Gee, you like a hard life. From what I have heard he already has a harem of well-built young Arab and Turkic guys at the university who he can take his pick from.”

That certainly depressed me. I was a bit old to go to university—both Arnold and I were—but we both came from established businesses that required little of our attention—his in dealings in Turkish artifacts, not always aboveboard, and I with my small regional airline. We had time on our hands and the university had proven to be a great place to pick up younger men. Arnold had tried to make clear, however, that he was here to pick me up, not some fresh, young tail. For some reason he fancied me beyond all reason. And I might have been interested, but he was an unshakable top, and, since I’d come to Lebanon, I was insisting on being the same.

I wasn’t young anymore, but I was still pretty presentable—certainly Arnold, who nagged me incessantly to let him bed me, seemed to think so. I’d been to university in my native Australia quite a few years before. Like, fifteen. A long time ago, really, but I had been a serious bodybuilder in my younger days and still stacked up OK.

I’d signed up for Bolton’s class on purpose, just to watch him up close—and Arnold had signed up on a never-ending quest to get into my pants. I’d known Harry was some sort of lecturer here, and his regular talks on ancient civilizations at the local museum were the reason I had originally met him. Oh, and once I had met him at a party. A museum cocktail fundraiser. He had been doing a good job of being polite and attentive and casting his smile and baby blues on the serious donors and supporters, and I had looked on and wondered how much I’d have to donate to get him to look at me that attentively.

“I hear he has a thing for Mediterranean types,” Arnold added, with a sniff. “He’s spent some time there on various archaeological digs and doing research and goes on about the men. Dark hair, muscular. Especially Turkic men. Hum.” He grunted, looking me up and down. “When it comes to dark sultry looks, that’s you, I suppose,” he added. “But I thought you didn’t like blonds?” Arnold was doing what he could to put me off the fetish I was forming for Bolton.

“There are exceptions,” I replied huffily.

But yes, I had dark hair and was muscular, I thought, feeling as if there might be some hope after all. But Harry had hardly even looked at me when we had met. I sighed, and told Arnold my attributes certainly hadn’t made any difference so far. Arnold smiled happily at that.

The next week I dragged Arnold along to a lecture on the ruins of Mycenae. Harry was giving it, of course. He was looking very casual, and his blond hair was longer than usual, so it occasionally fell down over one eye. It looked incredibly sexy as he brushed it back with his long muscular hands, and he looked incredibly smooth and hot. And I had it on good authority that his tool was a match for those hands.

We had arrived early and got middle seats in the second row, and I ogled Harry, while at the same time trying to keep Arnold’s hand out of my lap. I sighed repeatedly and was aching for Harry as much as ever. I was nervously thinking about going up and asking an intelligent question at the end of the lecture when I saw a dark young Lebanese hunk move in on him, and the two were talking in animated gestures down at the podium. I sighed forlornly.

Arnold looked at me and rolled his eyes, “I think it’s time you got over your crush, mate—or took drastic steps.” I had to agree.

Some people, well most people, think I am very quiet and wouldn’t hurt a fly, but Arnold knows me a bit better than that. When I am roused I can be quite a different person.

We got ready to leave, but Arnold was dithering, and I suddenly realized that two young Turkish guys in the row behind us were talking in low voices and that the topic was sex. Well, Arnold could always listen to that sort of gossip, which I assumed explained his hesitation, and I couldn’t do anything but listen too.

“Not a bad talk. Last night he fucked two of his students I heard,” one of the young Turks said.

“I heard three,” his companion replied. “And that he was the one being fucked, and he wanted it rough.”

“Yes, I’ve heard he likes taking it a bit rough. Has some fantasy about being fucked by a Australian footballer and his mates in the courtyard of an ancient villa on a remote Mediterranean Island. That time I was at that party? Well he had some huge hunk of a Turk plowing him up on the back of the sofa with everyone watching. Hot. Great body for a guy his age.”

“Hm.” The other replied. “Yes, a great body for his age.”

Then they got up and left.

I was stunned. Arnold looked at me and said,” Any ideas?” and the wheels in my head were busily turning, and I was feeling roused. Yes, roughly was definitely the way I could do it to Harry.

I looked down at the lecture podium just in time to see Harry and the young stud leave by a side entrance. The young guy already had a possessive hand on Harry’s well-rounded butt.

* * *

Nabil wanted to leave right after I’d given the lecture. He was anxious to get me bedded and I was just as anxious for him to be doing a repeat of the plowing he had given me last night. But I held him there in conversation. I needed to be sure that my two young Turkish friends would do what I asked and that Arnold and Howard would conveniently overhear them.

I was desperate. Beirut had been like everywhere else I’d tried. The pickings of young men had been great, but there always had been their families. And before long, I was being threatened and harassed by very-well-placed families for debauching their young men. Beirut had proved to be even more threatening than most. Not only had I received death threats for having introduced Nabil and others among the cream of Lebanese manhood to my sexual preferences, but I had been hauled into what passed as an Islamic court, charged with attacking the virtue of Lebanon’s youths with threats of nasty punishment to come, and now had also had my passport pulled. It was time to move on, but I was trapped—the morals police were closing in but I couldn’t leave the country.

Then I learned of Arnold, the importer, and met Howard, whose family owned the airline. Howard was quite attractive and he seemed to have a good sense of humor and to be intelligent. And he was dark and handsome and well-muscled, all attributes I melted to. I easily could have happily seduced him. And in my own way and to my own purposes, I was working on that. I saw the possibility that he and Arnold could be my salvation, but I don’t know if they would have helped me without what I was trying to maneuver them into. They had to live with these powerful families in Lebanon. Helping me would be a tremendous risk for them. What I’ve done is possibly the only way I could make this work for me.

I would love to go with Howard; I know he wants me. But I must make him want me so badly that he will accept the risks—that he will think he is the one setting everything in motion.

I broke through my internal analysis of my precarious position to find that Nabil had guided me up a side corridor and into a small storage room filled haphazardly with wooden boxes.

“I haven’t much time, Nabil,” I said. “If we are going to fuck, we need to go straight to your flat.”

“That isn’t safe anymore,” Nabil said. He was already breathing heavily and had me pushed up against a wooden crate and was fiddling with my belt buckle and pulling my trousers down. “They will be watching both my flat and your house, I’m sure. Besides I can’t wait. I must have you now.”

And he did have me right there and then. Once we were both shed of our trousers and he was pushing his pelvis into mine and showing me how desperately he needed to be inside me, I just sighed with surrender to my own aching need and opened my legs to him. He sat me up on the rough wood of a crate top and forced his dick deep inside my passage and plowed me to cries of desire and fulfilment. I responded wildly, not knowing if this would be my last taking by Nabil—or by any man if I couldn’t figure out a way to escape the prison walls that were closing in on me.

Nabil was fucking me roughly. He wasn’t giving me time to adjust. And I hated this dark, smelly room and these hard, rough crates. I was all silk sheets and soft beds and pleasant music and sweet smells. Nabil was rooting like a pig, taking me hard and with ugly guttural sounds. But I hadn’t given Nabil favor just because he was a beautiful young man with a monster cock. I had selected him because he was Arnold’s wife’s nephew.

* * *

Harry answered his door in bare feet, wearing flimsy running shorts that showed he had great legs, lightly covered with fine gold threads of hair. On top he had on a university T-shirt framing a flat belly and good arms.

I’d called ahead, telling him I had a small carved head broken from a statue, which I had recently inherited. It was supposed to be ancient Roman, and I had said I wanted someone to have a look at. I wanted to know if it was genuine, and I’d told him that he was the expert the museum had recommended. Now I was there, he smiled, and said, “Good to met you, Howard,” as if he meant it and then asked me to come in, and I followed him along the rug-covered hallway. As he walked, I watched his hard nice round butt cheeks flexing and moving hypnotically under the flimsy fabric of the shorts.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, I thought, let me at them, and my dick lurched. But I tried to ignore it.

After we had walked a short way down the passage, I suddenly knocked Harry forward, and he went down. He hit the floor hard, winded and shocked, and I planted my foot heavily in the center of his back, stopping him from rising however hard he struggled. Then I reached over him with my other hand and flipped the Oriental rug we had been walking over, across him. Before he could think of what to do, I was rolling him over and wrapping him up inside the rug, his arms pinned to his sides and his legs trapped.

He yelped helplessly, the noise muffled almost completely by the rug as I manhandled him, lifting him up and then throwing him over my shoulder. The rolled carpet bounced and rocked uncomfortably and I could feel him moving and twisting about inside it. And there were some more strange noises coming from inside too. Coughing sounds. I went out of the front door and closed it behind me, then took a few steps and with a heavy thump dumped the rug containing Harry onto the hard metal tray of the van I had driven up to his house in. I took the rope I had brought and tied it around the rolled rug to stop it unrolling. Good, I thought, as I tied it off. Nice and secure.

We had a long journey ahead. Arnold and a small band of Turks, including the two students who had sat behind us the other day and talked about Harry and who I had enlisted in this little adventure with the promise of a great deal of money, were waiting for me in the van outside Harry’s house.

* * *

And so it begins, I thought resolutely, as I tried my best to breathe within my dusty carpet cocoon. It had been a wild plan, with almost no chance of working. But it had started as planned. A miracle. But I could use a less dusty-clogged miracle. I couldn’t breathe, and the dust in the rug was invading my throat, causing me to sneeze and wheeze. But I couldn’t cough. I couldn’t let Howard and whoever was helping him—Arnold, I hoped, as he was the one with the connections to that island I’ve heard of that would be a perfect place for me—I couldn’t let my captors—no, my liberators—be stopped by the authorities.

I only hoped that they have taken the bait and the suggestions I’ve thrown their way and the sketchy planning I could do in the little time that had been available to me. If I were to be freed by the frenzied Howard only to find that I was still in Lebanon, I didn’t know what I’d do. This time I had every reason to fear for my life. I saw the look on the faces of those four judges at my arraignment. I was just lucky they hadn’t thrown me deep into their prison there and then.

* * *

I thanked the captain for the unscheduled flight and, together, Arnold and I pulled the rolled-up rug containing Harry out of the cabin of the executive jet and slid it into the back of a small farm truck. Our Turkish helpers had gone ahead to open up Arnold’s villa on this small island off the coast of Turkey that he used for his less savory import operations.

“Will Harry be OK?” I asked Arnold, indicating the small battered truck, “This thing doesn’t look like it has any suspension.”

Arnold just laughed at me. “Hey, you have kidnapped an American academic, rolled him in a rug, and flown him here. Now you are worried if he gets bruised? If this idea of yours is as mad as it sounds, you have a lot more to worry about than that when your Harry gets out of that rug,” he responded, and went off to his motorbike laughing.

I climbed into the truck’s battered cab and the weather-beaten old man behind the wheel held his hand out. I put the two fifty pound notes I had promised Arnold I’d give his estate caretaker in it. “You are a thief,” I told the old man. He smiled a toothless grin, understanding the language of the pound notes but nothing that I said in English. I don’t know why, but the old man’s noncomprehension sent a chill up my back. Lust for Harry had made me run headlong into this wild scheme. All I could see was the chance to take him out of his element and fuck him. It hit me now, though that I also was out of my element here. I wasn’t much freer than Harry was.

“Drive,” I said, waving him on, “And try to keep the ride smooth,” I added. “We have delicate cargo.”

The old man just laughed, put the truck into gear, and bounced down the road away from the airstrip.

The first part of the journey was fairly smooth, but then we reached the village. Once we had entered its narrow winding streets the road improved briefly, but then the final section was little more than an old unevenly cobbled alleyway, and the whole truck shook and bounced constantly. I was panicking, but the old man ignored my shouts telling him to stop, and all I could do was to hope that Harry was well enough padded by the expensively thick oriental rug he was inside not to be seriously hurt.

We finally arrived at the walled entrance courtyard to the old Villa, and Arnold was standing there, smiling at us and holding the heavy wooden double doors open. I slid out of the cab, my legs shaking, and hurried to the back of the truck.

With the help of a couple of the Turks, I lifted the rug with Harry in it from the back of the truck and carried him inside through the heavy wooden doors that Arnold was holding open. They closed with a thud, and I imagined Harry feeling slightly frightened inside the carpet. But then I lay him down again.

The young Turks had made themselves some food while they waited for us and were now laughing and drinking coffee and Ouzo. The courtyard was full of masculine laughter, and deep pleasant voices talking. For the first time the looks they sent my way seemed a bit ominous and threatening, but I tried to suppress any feelings of uncertainty that were trying to rise within me. I had done all of this to have Harry here and helpless and mine. I had to focus on the prize.

I undid the cords holding the carpet rolled up around Harry and rolled him over, and over, unwinding the rug.

* * *

When the carpet was unrolled and I was freed after that long, painful journey, I lay there stiff and blinking for a minute; then I saw Howard standing over me, and I also saw several dark-haired, olive-skinned, and muscular Turks sitting about and smiling down at me. Looking further, beyond the circle of men, I saw that I was in the courtyard of an old house and that the oriental rug I was lying on had been rolled out on a small paved area at its center.

I started to laugh and cough at the same time. Laughing because this was exactly what I had asked Nabil and the Turkish students to implant in Howard and Arnold’s ears—the description of a wild escape plan that I hoped would inflame Howard and make him set into motion my undocumented escape from Lebanon using his airline and Arnold’s Turkish connections. And it had worked. And all I’d have to do now was to let Howard fuck me, which was something I’d wanted to happen anyway. And then, with luck, Arnold would let me hide out on this island of his until I could figure out where else in the world I could go to feed my habit of seducing young men from prominent families and getting away with it.

* * *

Harry was laughing and coughing. The coughing obviously was the result of being wrapped in the rug; the laughter must be a touch of hysteria at being completely at a loss about what was happening to him and why. But I hadn’t done all of this just to give him an adventure. I ached for him. And I was going to take him now, whether or not he was willing. And he was confused and in a weakened state now, so I had best get to it. Then pay off the Turks and ask Arnold to leave Harry and me here until I could bend Harry to my will—until he only wanted me.

I bent down and kissed Harry as I stripped off his clothes and tossed them to one of the Turks who neatly folded them and set them on the ground beside his chair. I stripped off my own clothes and did the same with them. I wanted to have Harry for myself, without these grinning Turks looking on—but I had waited too long. I had to have him now for the first time, while he was still somewhat dazed. The tenderness and seduction could come later, after I’d paid off the Turks and they and Arnold had left.

I knelt down and wrapped one hand behind Harry’s head and lifted it to me, kissing him as my other hand moved down his body. My strong fingers were stroking over him, running over his flat hard belly and down, caressing and circling and squeezing his penis and balls, his tool already stiffening as he moaned in anticipation. Harry pushed out his chest, lifting himself up with his arms, as my lips moved down to his nipples. And he was whimpering too—as below, one of my fingers slipped into his entrance and he began to fuck himself on it gently. His hips worked instinctively and little cries came from his mouth as I teased and tugged his nipples with my teeth, before returning my mouth to his, losing myself in the taste and surrender of him.

I heard no signal; I did not see the shift in the circle of men around me. I was lost in foreplay with Harry, who wasn’t resisting me, to my great delight and wonderment. Thus, I was completely defenseless when Arnold and a couple of the Turks approached me with the ropes I’d untied from the carpet encasing Harry and bound my hands, wrapping the rope around the base of an olive tree in the center of the courtyard so that I was leashed there like a dog.

Hairless Twinks Fuck

webmaster — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 08:55:21 +0000

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Being a military nurse, male made being stationed on a Marine Corps Base is one of the great combinations of life. Being into cocks and tight asses made it more like a starving man at a banquet.

On Monday morning, I reported for duty to find that I had to return home and pack a few things. Seems that I was being assigned to a field unit for 8 days and would be working with the Marine during one of their many training exercises. I supposed that it could have been worse. However, the idea of being bone tired for 8 consecutive days and not being able to shower didn’t bring my spirits up too much.

All went well during the first day and I can honestly say that all I was looking forward to was the opportunity to lay flat for 10 or 12 hours. Barring that, 4 would have helped me greatly. It was at that point of my day that we found out that we had one two-man tent left over and one officer and one enlisted man. Another tent coul be obtained but not till the next day of the day after. The usual assholes began squabbing about who was most junior and shoul have to sleep with the poor Grunt. Big fucking deal, we all smelled pretty bad at that stage of game. To stop the jockeying, I volunteered to share the tent with the enlisted man,if they let me sleep for a while. Surprising how fast the arguement ceased.

The Staff Sergent “I’ll get williams, Sir and he can show you where you will be bunking.” Meaning that he woul get him here fast before I changed my mind. I jumped when i realized that someone was talking to me and I focused in on the voice. It was housed in 6.2″, 175 pounds of green eyes and black hair and a body built by god. Williams was one of the hottest looking guys I had seen in a long time. He moved with an easy confidence, almost like a dancer, but with a more force in his stride. The accent in his voice had texas written all over it.

Williams said “if you’ll come with me Sir, I’ll show you where the tent is.” His smile could have melted rocks. It did mine, for sure! His friendliness was genuine and warm, but like that of a younger brother having to sleep with someone older and not quite knowing how to act.

I began unrolling the sleeping bag that the supply Sergent had issued me with the assurance that “it’s brand new, never touched by another human body. Just bring it back as close to the same condition as you can Sir.” When I unrolled it, I found out that though the outside was complete,the manufacturer had failed to line the inside and there was nothing but loose insulation from half-way down to the feet. Williams assured me that it wasn’t really a problem, “we can zip the two bags together and line the bottom with a poncho Sir.” I rapidly agreed and prepared for sleep. Generally in the field, I don’t wear underwears. I find it a bit too warm. I was startled to see that as he dropped his pants, neither did Williams. Why worry, this 24 year old guy had to be straight as the proverbial arrow. We climbed into the combination bag and made ourselves as comfortable as possible. The two rocks that insisted on boring my side went sailing away into the night, followed by curses as they landed. Now, it was time for sleep.

I was drifting off when suddenly I found myself awake but not really knowing why. Without moving, I realized that williams was apparently asleep and having adjusted his position, wound up with his hard, tight Marine ass wedged firmly in my crotch. His body was in complete contact with mine fron the feet up to his ass. His chest curved away, but what did touched was enough to warm me up. What the fuck, go to sleep and forget it.

Just as I began to doze off again, I came thoroughly awake. Williams had begun to rhythmically flex his ass cheeks against my cock and it was quickly raising to full attention. He apparently was very much awake, but thought I was sleeping and had decided to take adventage of the situation for some hot ass action. I lay still and managed to control my breathing so that it appeared that i was exhausted and sleeping for the night. It was incredible, his ass seemed to get hotter and get hotter as his asscrack slid back and forth over my cock. I wondered just how long he would keep this pretense up.

At that point, he began a slow rocking motion that caused my stiff, dripping cock to slid up and down the length of his asscrack. It was great, like a slow jack-off session.

As I was getting into having my dick slowly massaged to near explosion. My hot Marine reached back and pulled his ass cheeks apart. My cock slipped right into the crack and came to rest against his hot, moist, and very tight little hole. I almost shot right then, but controlled myself. Williams continued the rocking motion. Each time he rocked back towards me, my cock slid against his asshole. Every time it did, I wanted to ram that fucker into my balls.

After few minutes of this action, I realized that with each backwards rock, my cok slid a little more into his ass. When the head of my cock popped into his ass, Williams stopped moving. I’m not sure whether 8 thick inches was more than he was used to or if he was savouring the sensation of having his ass stopped up. I had reached the stage of the game where I could no longer remain still.

While Williams was catching his breath, I slowly reached over his side and wrapped my fingers around his very stiff, dripping, and uncut meat. It startled him and when he jumped, my har cock slid in upto the my pubic hair. Williams made a quick intake of breath and shruddered before he could control the noise and we lay still for a while to make sure that no one was paying any attention. Not more than six feet on all four sides were othe two-man tents, but not like ours.

I whispered in his ear “this is fucking driving me crazy man. It’s all I can do to keep from shooting my load in your tight ass right now.” Williams wiggled his ass and we both moaned. We had to be careful, this was too hot of a situation in more than one way. He began rocking slowly back and forth again. Letting my cock slid almost out of his hole and then slowly sucking it back in. At the same time, I jacked his cock. I ran my toungue over his ear and nibbled on the lobed, it made him jerk back spasmodically but with too much noise. I tried to control my urge to plunge my tingue into his ear.

“Turn over on your stomach.” I mumbled. He carefully turned over and I slid my legs in between his without letting my cock slip out of his clutching ass. Once in position, I began fucking one of the tightest and hottest Marine asses on the base. Williams bit into the side of his hand to keep from moaning out, and I bit into the side of his neck and shoulder to muffle the sounds of our fucking. Suddenly, he began to shudder and his asshole clutched my cock like a hand trying to rip it off. I started shooting and bit down on his shoulder to keep from yellin out loud. After a few minutes, we caught our breath and stopped shaking from our tremendous climax. I kissed his neck and ear and told him that I wanted more of this and real soon. Williams turned his head enough to kiss me and slid his probing tongue into my mouth and down my throat. We had to quit, the first time was luck, but more was pure sucide.

I slid off his back and over my side of the sleeping bag. William turned on his side and once more pushed his ass into my crotch. He reached back and grabbed my hand and lay it on his side. We fell asleep like that way, touching, but not obivious to anyone just walking by.

We wake just before dawn and reveille. Jumping into our cammie pants and boots. We walked to the water tank transport and got water to wash-up with and shave. Williams first name is Owen, and he said that he wanted to get togethr after exercise and see how noisy we could really get. Seems that Owen is a true screamer if I had known before, I would have shit my pants. Owen said that when I grabbed his cock and my dick slid up his ass, he didn’t know whether to “piss, go blind or wind his watch.” He wasn’t wearing a watch. “It scared me shitless, but it hurt just right, I had no intention of letting that piece of meat go away.” He smiled broadly as heglanced down at my crotch. We burst into laughter and turned in time to notice another Marine approching us from the directionbof the tents. Owen and I smiled at each other and began to shave.

The new guy was dirty blond, light brown eyes, about 5.7″ and 160 ponds of very well put together Southern California surfer turned into U.S. Marine. He said good morning as he approched and the lowered his voice, “if you wouldn’t mind Sir, I really would like to share my tent with you tonight. Besides, I almost lost my mind last night listening to you two. I had to jack-off in my shorts.” Owen and I looked at each other and burst into laughter again. Not only had we been caught with our hands in the cookie jar, the guy who caught us wanted some of the cookies.

I alternated tents for the next 6 days. When I got home I really needed the 3 days off they gave me. I spent it sleeping alone. It’s strange, that Staff Sergent never did manage to get that other tent, but then who’s complaining.

Two Bois Get Spanked

webmaster — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 08:55:21 +0000

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I lost my virginity twice, at least, and it happened during my second year at University. Both times alcohol played a big part. The first time was with the course bike – she sucked me off after a party and all I really remember was her spitting my come into a hedge. We went out for three days and I went through three condoms. I don’t remember it with any fondness.

Pete and I had been mates since we met up in our first year on the same course. He was about six-foot – taller than me – with dark hair and a tan. Well-built. We tried out for a few teams, and both ended up playing football (soccer if you’re a Yank). He was one of the first fellas I ever saw completely naked, in the showers; heck, he was one of the first people of either sex I saw naked, and he saw me.

It was two months after I’d been sucked and fucked by the course bike, and Pete and I had gone out for a serious binge-drink with the rest of the footballers; a pub first, then a local club. Everyone had been on the pull; I’d already started to wonder about whether I was into cunt or not, or whether my disinterest was due to my bad experience. We matched each other pint for pint, and Pete and I staggered back to his place at chucking out time after a bit of a dance. When we got in, we popped a few cans and sat down to listen to some music and “set the world to rights.” Both of us were hot and sweaty; Pete opened his shirt and for some reason I found it very erotic, even though I’d seen his flat belly and hairy chest many times before.

As we were talking, I admitted to my experiences with the course bike, and he told me he’d fucked her in his first year and she’d given him a dose. We laughed about that. We then got on to sharing sex stories – well, I say sharing. He talked about sex. We had another can, and then Pete started complaining about the lack of pussy in his life. He said something about wishing his bro’ Steve was in town. Then he went for a piss.

Pete had a twin called Steve. I’d met him – big lad like Pete, nasty sense of humour. When Pete staggered back I asked him what he’d meant about Steve and he got a bit defensive. But we were both pissed and he finally admitted that he and Steve had helped each other out when they were single. I didn’t immediately get what he meant and he told me they used to wank each other off when they were horny. It’d started after Pete came to University one night.

I was so turned on I actually stopped breathing for a moment, and I could feel the blood beating in my ears (and starting to beat in my cock). Pete was quick to point out that neither his bro’ nor himself was gay. Steve had a girlfriend now, and they hadn’t “done each other” in eight months or so. Although he did admit that he and another fella on the team had mutually wanked each other off on a trip, but he wouldn’t say who.

I asked him what it was like and he said it was okay and if you shut your eyes you could pretend it was a woman doing it. He hadn’t had sex in six weeks and he was worried his balls were going to explode. He laughed and then I just said “I’ll give you a hand, bud.”

He just stopped mid-laugh and stared at me.

“Well its not as if it’s a gay thing” I said, sort of meaning it at the time, “It’s a buddy thing. We’re buds, right? We should help each other out.”

Pete looked really worried, and like he was sobering up quickly. He immediately said it’d be different than with Steve . . .

I laughed then and said “What, because we’re not actually comitting incest?” and then he laughed and he lay back on the sofa with his arms resting on the sofa-back and I knew it was going to happen, and it was gonna be okay.

I shifted from the chair and sat down heavily next to him on the sofa. I could smell the heady man-sweat stink of him – we’d been dancing, remember – half-maksed by his after-shave. He was breathing fast and not looking at me.

“So what now?” I asked. “Do you get your dick out or do I?”

Pete grabbed his beer and took a deep gulp before saying, real fast, “Whateveryoulike, bud.”

He was wearing blue denim jeans, with a button fly. My hand was shaking as I reached out and started to undo his buttons. He took anotehr swig of beer and opened his legs slighty. My hand was brushing his dick, and it was hardening down the side of his leg. Once I’d popped the last button open, he grabbed my hand and said, seriously (but still slurring):

“You sure you want to do this?”

And I just reached in and cupped my hand over his balls through his sweaty boxers and looked him straight in the eye when I said “You trying to talk me out of this, bud?” and I squeezed a little. My heart was hammering away and my own cock was hard as an iron bar in the confines of my jeans.

“Fuck no! But if we do this, we don’t say a fucking word to anyone, right buddy? They’d maybe get the wrong idea.”

“Fair enough” I answered. I had no real idea what to do, but I started to gently squeeze his nutsack and he let out a long sigh and grinned, and passed me another beer.

“Help me with my boots, bud. Its easier if I get my trews off. Then I’ll do you, yeah?”

I dropped off the sofa, removing my hand from his crotch, and sniffed at it for a moment. It was full of his smell. I untied Pete’s shoelaces and he kicked them off, then he started to fumble with his jeans. As he lifted his arse up, I pulled them and dragged them down – they caught on his cock for a moment and he grunted, then they were down round his ankles, then they followed the shoes.

He sat there in his open shirt, beer in one hand, black socks, curly hair on his shins and thighs, and his boxers half pulled-down revealing the dark frizz of his crotch-hair. His prick was lying down one leg, and where the head lay there was a moist patch of pre-cum. He opened his legs akimbo, and mesmerised I reached in and slipped his meat-and-two-veg over the waistband of his boxers. His dick sprang straight up in front of me. It was a good length (not that I was any judge at the time), nice and thick, the foreskin already half-pulled-back and dribbling from his slit. I knelt up and reached out to touch it, looking up for approval. He had his eyes shut, his head thrown back, and he lifted his hips slightly so that his soft silky prick pushed and nuzzled my palm. I closed my hand over it.

It was like a solid rock, wrapped in some velvet softness. I slid the foreskin back and marvelled at how it looked, his cockhead read and inflamed almost. I’d never seen an erect penis in real life before, apart from my own. I started to work my hand up and down in slow, easy strokes like I enjoyed when I was tossing myself off. Pete sighed a deep sigh and took another swing of beer. His dick, amazingly,got harder in my hand as I worked.

Without opening his eyes he said “Don’t forget my balls, man.”

I grabbed his heavy sack in my other hand and he yelped, opening one eye.

“Fuck, be gentle! You don’t want me squeezing your balls like that, bud!”

I nearly came in my trousers when I realised Pete intended to return the favour. I stroked and tickled his nutsack and he squirmed a little, but I kept my firm pressure up on his shaft. It was so hot in my hand. Every time I moved my hand up, his fat cockhead disappeared inside his foreskin, and when I worked the shaft back down again it popped back into view, glistening now. I wondered how it would taste.

“Does Steve ever suck you?” I asked, keeping up the tight grip and the gentle pressure on his balls.

Pete didn’t answer for a moment or two, and the only noise was the gentle slapping of me working my mates meat. “Yeah,” he said after a moment.

That was all I wanted to hear. I leant forward, clumsy, taking my hand off his balls to steady myself, and I pulled his dick straight up. I could smell its tantalising smell of sweat and cum and maybe a little piss. I poked it with my tongue, on the underside. It tasted salty. So far so good. Still holding him firmly, I ran my tongue from the base, just where it joined his frizzy bollocks, up to where my hand was. Pete gulped some more beer and started to breathe really heavily. He started twisting his left nipple roughly in between his finger and thumb, and showing his teeth as he grimaced in time with my squeezing of his nuts. I closed my whole mouth round the underside of his hard penis, and he gasped out loud again. He nearly dropped the bottle when I let go of his prick and slid my mouth up and over the top in a move the class bike had used on me during our first blowjob.

I couldn’t believe I was on my knees in front of Pete, and I had his manhood half buried in my wet gob. It tasted of salt and sugar at once and I knew that I wanted more. I sucked, hard, and Pete yelped; then I licked it, rolling it around in my mouth, putting my hands to work on the rest of the shaft (now starting to get soaked with my dribble and Pete’s sweat). I gently palped his balls, and kept lashing and rolling his sensitive helmet in my gob.

He was muttering nonsense as I worked, the sort of stuff you say at a time like this – oh yeah, that’s it, do it, take it bitch – that sort of thing. In retrospect it was funny, but at the time . . .

Pete groaned again, dropping his beer bottle, and started to stroke my head. My prick was swollen and ripe, ready to burst at any moment. As I got more confident, I began to move more, and Pete slowly began to lift and drop his backside, moving his burning-hot dick in my mouth in time to my amateurist swallowing.

It happened completely without warning; Pete suddenly went still and his legs tensed – I thought he had cramp – and he flung his arms out, lifting himself up off the sofa, his sweaty bare arse leaving the cushions. His cock filled me too full, nudging my throat and I nearly puked, pulling my head back away from his shaft reflexively. A great sticky wad of jizz slapped across my lips, and some went up my nose. I managed to catch the second spirt on my tongue, though, and the third filled my mouth with my best-mate’s sex juice. I swallowed it, and Pete didn’t know quite what to make of that!

He collapsed back shivering as I squeezed the last of his white spunk out, covering my knuckles, lapping it off his belly and chest. He didn’t complain, and I loved the roughness of his hair on my tongue. As I cleaned him, he started to snore, meaning I had to finish myself off – that was no hardship. I just knelt over and scooped my own cock out, beating it hard and fast as I stared down at the detumescing tool I’d had in my mouth moments ago, a mixture of dribbled spit and dribbled cum pooling on his leg and his sofa, and when I came I managed to hit his leg with the stream – it didn’t wake him up, though.

I sat down on the carpet, my hands and my face covered in a combination of my spunk and his, and I knew that I was going to do this again, and soon. I wondered when Steve would be visiting next.

Mature On Young Boi

webmaster — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 17:55:21 +0000

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I don’t know how I worked into this. Just lucky, I guess. Got my daddy’s genes. Horny stuff has happened to me since way back in high school. I was, what, eighteen?

Heat had a lot to do with it. Ninety degrees any day of the week in the summer and not much less even in winter. In 1950 St. Uanitá was a dusty little town in the deep South built around a crossroads. We lived on a farm, and southern Louisiana humidity made it a suffocating place. Crops didn’t grow, only weeds did. And bugs. Clouds of bugs.

The heat made me horny all the time, just like everybody else, I think. Every guy I ever met from the deep South was horny. Think about it: they don’t have overpopulation in places like Finland or Alaska, but the Congo? The Philippines? Wherever it’s hot, millions of people!

I hit puberty early and grew into a very big kid, so in the Southern heat, when I discovered what I could do with my peter, jacking off and fishing became my only hobbies–every chance I got. When I reached St. Uanitá High School, I found out I was different: after the first days in the gym shower room, when we saw each other naked for the first time, I heard “horse-hung,” “plow-boy,” and “How can you walk with that thing, DePierre?”

Damn, I am bigger. Where I got the cock, I don’t know. From my pa, I guess. It’s just like his.

-==(^)==-

Soon I was no longer a virgin–I had a couple high school girls–but it was always hard to score. The girls screamed and jumped out of the truck when they got a glimpse of my cock. Even the two guys I got were trouble.

Oh, yeah, the guys. I discovered what I could do with guys one afternoon almost by chance. Very hot that day. I was very horny.

I didn’t candy-and-flowers them; it was a matter of force. By then I was 6′2″ and 195 pounds. Yeah, yeah, big for my age, heard it all the time. I had good genes–Pa was a big man–but I got most of my build from working on the farm. Lot of lifting. Lot of running here and there. Lot of sweating in the heat.

And yeah, the heat. Sun beating down on me, humidity rolling in from the Gulf. Dust in those feeble breezes. Grit all over me. Animal life. Not only a big kid, I was an animal. And always horny.

Good old St. Uanitá Parish High School had a wrestling-practice room they made out of a storage area. It didn’t have air conditioning (practically nothing did in those days). Just a large, dark, wallboard-paneled room with no ceiling–open through the cobwebby rafters to a tin roof that radiated the Louisiana heat down into the room. The school used it only for practice–competitions were out in the gym, on mats on the basketball floor.

In that hot, sweaty room I fucked two guys in a single after-school wrestling practice. Never forget it: the single window in the west wall let in the terrible afternoon sun, focusing heat in the room, showing clouds of dust in the light, heating the green mat that took up nearly all the floor space, making the rubber soft and hot. It felt like kneeling on a sweaty breast.

Alone with my first opponent, I wrestled him down to the point he couldn’t resist me. He panicked and fought when he felt me pulling his trunks down. He still had on his jockstrap, but that didn’t help–the white leg straps were just elastic cotton road markers to his bare asshole.

I fucked him, then let him go. He ran from the room screaming.

Then another guy walked in and asked if I wanted to practice. I said yes–and did the same to him: gradually overpowered him and pulled down his trunks.

But with him I decided to go slower. Took me about a half-hour to work my cockhead past his asshole. All the time he was screaming and yelling, but he never told me to stop.

I took a long time with him, fucking very slow and easy until finally he begged: “Damn, go faster, DePierre, you bastard! Ram it in, make me cum!” He lurched his hips at me, trying to drive me in deeper.

I let myself go and saw for the first time what became my trademark: groaning and panting, the guy stiffened up, all his muscles tensed, and he let out a long, strangled moan. His asshole cinched tight around my cockshaft in intoxicating clenches.

Wondering, I reached under. Cum dripped from his jockstrap, slimy and hot. Sonofabitch. He ejaculated before I did!

Couldn’t believe it. Without even touching himself. His orgasm came from my fucking. Started in his asshole.

The very idea that I had fucked him to glory sent me into my own climax. Dripping with sweat, breathing hard, I had an orgasm like an atomic bomb.

When we were finished, we lay together on that sweaty rubber mat for a long time, cuddling, rubbing our sweaty bodies together. Kissing. Licking each other’s sweat. God, it was hot in that room.

Never forgot the smell. Pungent, close, woody odor of the hot old room. Heady aroma of sweat and moist jockstraps. And cum, the dizzying, unmistakable smell of sperm.

The guy blew my mind: wanted me to do him again! Pestered me for the rest of the year for more. I often obliged.

After that, I taught three or four members of the football team how to enjoy me. Same story: didn’t want to let me into their pants but suffered the same fate once I got in. Once my cockhead passed their rectums, they tried to resist me, tried not to submit but finally found my big cock made their bodies betray them. After long stroking, they tensed up, tightened their muscles, and their cocks exploded in massive orgasms that left them panting and limp under me. Drenched in sweat. Covered with dust.

And always they came before I did. It hit me: all men want me to fuck them; they just don’t know they do.

I went on to get most of the guys on the football team, then in season I went on to the basketball team. They always put up a big fight at the beginning, but once they got their first orgasm through the ass, they changed. Open, you could say, to all possibilities. And to me.

My first grown-man experience was the Communications teacher–my favorite class. I did best in Communications. I liked reading radio dramas and producing little TV programs. I even had a weekly one-hour show on the low-powered high school FM radio station. Experimental rock.

Mr. Fedibruck was a trip. Wasn’t from the South. Rumor had it he was from the Northeast, Maine or somewhere. After disgracing the family in some terrible scandal, he had to leave town, and St. Uanitá is about as far from Maine as you can get.

Nobody knew what the scandal was, so of course rumor supplied one. Seems he murdered the husband of his lover or robbed the state lottery or something like that. Or maybe it was he did something traitorous in the Army, sold secrets to the Nazis, something devilish.

I liked Mr. Fedibruck. His narrow face with those aristocratic high cheekbones looked haughty, but his blue eyes were friendly and mischievous. Blond hair tumbled over his forehead in disarray, making him look like either a Hollywood movie star or the degenerate son of a rich family–probably closer to the truth. He had voluptuous lips, almost too beautiful for a man, but misshapen, hyena teeth pulled him back into ugly masculinity. A strange, complicated face. And who knew what seethed within.

He was in good shape. Rumor had it he had been a paratrooper in the war. Hero of St. Lo or some such thing.

And he had money. Supposed to get a huge “allowance” from up North, and folks said his teaching high school in St. Uanitá was some sort of penance. He did live well. Apartment in the Sedsofle Hotel. Nice boat in the marina.

In fact, one Saturday he took two of us from the school radio station out on that boat for a fishing party. I loved fishing, and I jumped at the chance for a ride on Mr. Fedibruck’s sailboat.

Once aboard, we changed to swimming suits. Mr. Fedibruck and the other guy, Mark, wore boxer trunks. I had a Speedo. Again the approving murmurs, but nobody actually said anything. Mr. Fedibruck told us how to hoist the sails, and we moved out into the Gulf.

Out of sight of shore, we set a drag anchor, then lazed around sunbathing, fishing, and swimming. And drinking. Mr. Fedibruck pressed a button, and a bar folded out of the cabin wall. “We’re all 18 and over, right? So let’s drink a toast.” We all drank Scotch & Soda. Six or eight. I lost track. Funny thing–drinking age in Louisiana was 21. Who cared.

In late afternoon, I went snorkeling with Mr. Fedibruck. After a half-hour or so, we swam back to the boat, and I was waiting at the diver’s step to get out when he swam up behind me and grabbed me! Like in a friendly wrestling match. Like he was an octopus or a squid or something, and I was the struggling shark.

We wrestled in the water, splashing and laughing, each trying for the winning hold, but we were so wet and slippery, it was hard. I was, anyway.

The more we struggled, the more I got the upper hand, and the harder my cock. Even though he was older and a healthy man–I was still bigger. At one point, I had him in a grip from behind, locking his legs by blocking them with my own, my right arm under his armpit and up to lock my hand behind his neck.

I’d been horny all day and really had the urge since the moment he grabbed me. My cock was throbbing.

With my left hand I yanked down his trunks. He laughed at first, but when he felt my cockhead nudging between his ass-cheeks, he let out a bellow. “Hey, dammit, what in hell do you think you’re doing?”

But by then we had moved far enough from the boat that Mark on board could not understand what Fedibruck was saying–it sounded like more good-natured horseplay. “You’re gonna like this,” I grunted in his ear, and then he really struggled. I held on, though, my cockhead constantly pressing against his asshole (by that time I was pretty good at keeping myself centered).

And finally, with his, “Oh, God, no!” I sank in, stretching his ass-ring, and before he could let out a scream, I jerked us both under the surface. His scream came out as a big stream of bubbles. Then back to the surface for a breath.

The water served as a sort of lubricant. I slid into his hypersensitive, overstretched backdoor as slow as I could, and in the water, it was hard to go fast, anyway (no floor, no walls, nothing to push against). But when I was in all the way, I knew my glans bumped against his prostate with every stroke, and that would turn the pain into a horny pleasure with every ram.

Sure enough, gradually he stopped struggling, finally went limp in the water, making my deep strokes a little easier. He went so limp, in fact, that I released my grip on his shoulder and neck and gripped him tight around the chest.

Then I could really go to town. I humped him for all I was worth, and suddenly he tensed, flexing all his muscles, and I saw the proof–big globules, white bubbles of sperm burst out into the water in front of him.

I got him. My specialty.

I’d reached the point where I didn’t work toward my own climax so much as let it build, waiting for my fuckee to prove my power, and when the guy cummed for me, my own climax was a triumph, a victory.

I worked toward my own orgasm and finally scored–I drove into him to the max, a vicious gouge, a signal he was mine and could never swim back to the way things were. My balls throbbed as I filled him full of the family jism.

I’m always curious to hear what they say when I let them go. “Jesus God!” he gasped as he turned around in the water to face me. “DePierre, that was incredible! Never had such a fucking orgasm in my whole fucking life!”

I chuckled. “You got the water all slimy.”

“Yeah, I got it leaking out of my ass now, too.” He caught me in his arms. “It was worth it.” He pulled me closer. “I fucked a couple of guys in the Navy, but God, who knew!”

Who knew, indeed. We all thought he had been in the Army.

He pulled me still closer and kissed me. Great kiss. We sank under the surface as both poured everything into it, a gut show between two men. Our tongues fought in the cave of our mouths like two tigers.

When we finally rose to the surface again, we were panting. He wrapped his legs around my back. “God, I was fucked by a moose,” he said, nibbling at my lips. As he stared into my eyes, I knew I had him. He was my bitch.

We swam back to the boat. Don’t know if Mark suspected anything, but when both of us climbed back aboard without swimming suits, two plus two wasn’t too hard to put together. Mark didn’t say anything, but the Legend of Mr. Fedibruck no doubt got an update when we got back to the marina.

That senior year in high school, I had quite a little black book. With all my friends and Mr. Fedibruck almost every day, my balls were always empty.

When I finally graduated, Mr. Fedibruck sent me with my audition tapes to Channel X in the big city. Said he set me up with an appointment there with a Mr. Sonnenheiss.

-==(^)==-

I stood like a little kid gazing up at the Channel X Building. Steel and glass. All angles and gleaming panels. Superman’s Fortress of Solitude. Channel X was the flagship of Fathingwil Broadcasting, and I felt like a peasant knocking on the door of the palace.

Inside was more awesome. A cathedral! As I walked down the long, long marble hallway, I gaped at backlit photos of Channel X stars between tall Art Deco columns. As I continued the walk toward a steel & glass desk at the far end, an itchy little thought in the back of my mind snickered, Those columns look like long, tall cocks!

Look at the capitals: rounded at the top, flaring at the bottom–cockheads! The columns are bumpy and carved in snaky designs, and each has a long, straight bulge right up the middle–cockshafts!

At the far end, behind the desk, were two huge, spotlighted Art Deco sculptures of what I figured was David and Goliath–or maybe it was Superman and Batman. Awesome statues. I figured 20 feet high. Heroic physiques.

At the desk below sat a receptionist who looked like Demi Moore in a dress so tight it looked sprayed on–I could see her nipples. She looked up at me like a roach that had somehow gotten into the building.

“Hi, uh, I’m here to see, uh, Mr. Sonnenheiss.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Yeah. Mr. Fedibruck from St. Uanitá High School made it for me.”

She gave me a sneering smile. Freeze ice on it. She looked at a schedule book. “Oh, yes, here it is. Please wait over there, Mr.–Deepire.”

I sat on a leather couch near the wall, and the Ice Queen went back to her book. A few minutes later, she answered the telephone, then without looking at me, “You can go in now.”

To my amazement, the sculptures behind her separated–David and Goliath moved apart (out of what might have been an embrace) and moved to opposite sides of the hall. As they separated, I noticed the sculptor had given them very, very healthy packages. Huge stone bulges. Again that itchy thought: Whoever designed this place was horny.

The wall behind the retreating statues held a large, ornately carved door. Again, the carvings were of athletes, warriors, and Greek gods. First time I ever saw a jockstrap carved in wood. I was getting a hardon.

I opened the door. The handle was a brass casting that at first glance was the open snout of a boar. But the long, fat nose that flared into nostrils at the tip, with a wider lower jaw rounded into two sagging jowls–Damn, anybody with the slightest touch of horny could see that as a cock and balls!

In spite of the air conditioning, the place was getting hot! I began thinking about asking for the men’s room for a quick jackoff.

Beyond the door was a small room with wood-paneled walls, ornately carved–again with the gods and warriors. It had a brass handrail at waist-level. I was wondering why a handrail when the door swung closed behind me, and the room took off–it was an elevator. But there were no floor buttons. I was going where it wanted.

A few moments later, the door clicked ajar. I pushed it open and walked into–God!–the mother of all Offices. The door into the penthouse office was like a door into the jungle. The ceiling high above was all glass, as were all the walls, like an atrium or a greenhouse. Wild, exotic plants everywhere. Palm trees in large pots marched down the sides, shading the room with their fronds.

I walked between them to the far end, to a large desk in dark mahogany, carved with bas-reliefs, but this time of dragons, snakes, and demons. No more naked men, this was lethal stuff. Damn, talk about intimidating.

Behind the desk sat an old man in a wheelchair. Narrow face, large ash-gray eyes. Hooked nose. Wore his fine, gray hair combed straight back. Jesus, a gray-haired vampire in a wheelchair.

Frail. Pale skin. Expensive-looking suit. “Mr. DePierre? I’m Arnold Sonnenheiss.”

I walked over to the desk and stuck out my hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Sonnenheiss.” He did not reach out to shake my hand; finally I dropped it. “I’ve–uh–got an audition tape here.”

“I’ve already seen it. Corbin Fedibruck sent one to me.” He leaned back in the chair. “He and I go back a long way.” He picked up a clipboard from the desk and looked at it. “I think we have something for you, Mr. DePierre. Please ask the receptionist to send you to Mr. Paulson.”

“Thanks very much, Mr. Sonnenheiss, I–”

“That will be all. Please take the elevator down to see Miz Rizaki.”

So I got a job at Channel X!

-==(^)==-

I had to move away from home, of course. Sad day at my house, mother crying, etc.

When I found an apartment in the big city, I still felt the heat. Worse, the big city was just as hot but also had the smog.

After working there a few weeks, I asked one of the guys in the editing room what put Mr. Sonnenheiss in a wheelchair.

Seems he was riding in a steeplechase, his horse stumbled, and he fell from it and broke his back. Damn, that’ll do it.

The Channel X building had its own exercise room for the benefit of employees to keep fit and trim for on-air appearances. It also had a swimming pool, which I used a lot.

After four or five months there, one night after working at the tape machine until late, I decided to have a short workout to relax me before I went home–I’d been crouched over the damned tapes for hours. No one else was there. I used the weight machine for a while, working up a nice sweat, then took a shower before going home.

While in the showers, I heard a loud voice. “Ave Atque Vale!” It sounded like Mr. Sonnenheiss.

Ave Atque Vale? Hail and Farewell?

Then I heard a loud splash.

A little worried, I grabbed a towel and ran out into the pool room. Ripples were spreading out over the surface of the water, and when I looked down into it, I saw a wheelchair at the bottom. And Mr. Sonnenheiss down there with it. He was naked.

I dove into the water, swam to the bottom, and grabbed Mr. Sonnenheiss under the arms. I leaped off the floor of the pool, shooting us to the surface and swam with him to the shallow end. Finally I lifted him up from the water and onto the deck.

He was unconscious. Not knowing exactly what to do in such a case, I rolled him over onto his belly and began to press against his back to expel the water. It seemed to work, but I figured I needed to get the water out seriously. I lay back on the floor beside him, then rolled him over onto me, his back to me, holding him around his chest, I gave him the Heimlich Maneuver. If it worked to get out food stuck in the windpipe, surely it would get water out of the lungs.

It worked. After a couple of hard squeezes, and many gushes of water out of his mouth, he coughed.

He’s alive! I rolled him off me and onto his back, and gradually he came to. He opened his eyes. When he focused on me, “DePierre, what have you done?”

“Mr. Sonnenheiss, you fell in the pool–”

Twink Made To Erupt

webmaster — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 16:55:21 +0000

More Twink Made To Erupt video samples here!
I am a 51 yo, mwm. I had some teen experiences, too. Mostly oral, but I received anal a couple of times and thought it was great. When I got married, I put down the active play, but I still used the memories of it as masturbation material. I’m sure you know what I mean….I’ll bet you do too!

About 5 years ago, I met a (divorced) guy via our mutual interests in clock (and other mechanicals) repair. Over time we discussed a lot of things. Sex became one of them. At some point we brought up our premarital MM experiences. Like me, he had not done anything with another guy since his late teen years. It only came up once and was dropped rather quickly.

I started pondering about the possibilities of trying it again. Once I started thinking about it more often, the thinking became more like an urge. I was conflicted on a number of issues one of which is that I’m married and need to keep it that way. I also couldn’t decide if my friendship with Joel was strong enough yet to gamble bringing the subject up again.

One evening it all just fell into place. We were working on rebuilding one of his old Conn theater organs when he simply said, “I’m not quite sure how to bring this up so I’ll just let it fly and see what you think”.

My first thought was that he was afraid to make a comment on how I was re-doing the electronics on the keyboard. I’m a stickler for trying to maintain an original style or method to retain the flavor of originality. He’s more of a let’s just get it done guy. Boy was I off base!

“I think I might be bi” was what was actually on his mind. I wasn’t really ready to hear that because we were knee-deep in the project and it just kind of came out of nowhere. I just told him I didn’t hear what he said (it hadn’t registered with me yet). He just said to forget it.

I guess it was at that moment it registered with me.

It took me another second or two, but I finally told him that I might be bi, too. He told me that if I ever really wanted to do something about that, he would be open to us getting together.

I can remember the sensation of my heart pounding in my ears as I was processing all of this. I somehow managed to croak out something like “So what should we do about it?”

He said “Why don’t I grab a porno from upstairs. We can watch it and jerk off or something.” I said that maybe we could try that. He didn’t say anything more, he just went upstairs.

I figured I ought to at least wash my hands. They were kind if grungy from the crud that had accumulated on the keyboard. I went into the bathroom to clean up when I heard his shower running upstairs. It occurred to me that this might get “serious” so instead of just washing my hands I stripped off and stepped into the shower stall. Not knowing how far this was actually going to go, I figured I should at least get the ol’ “undercarriage” soapy and clean.

When I turned off the shower, I could hear him kind of knocking around a bit in his den area just outside the bathroom. I wasn’t sure if I should get dressed and go out, wrap a towel around myself or just walk out naked. I cracked open the door and peeked out to see him in his bathrobe fooling with the DVD and the TV. I opted for the towel.

I walked out wearing just that towel around my waist. He looked at me and pointed to a bath size towel he’d brought down for me. “Why don’t you wrap that around yourself, too so you don’t get chilled”, he said. I took him up on the offer.

When I picked up the offered towel, I couldn’t help but notice that the front of his robe was tented out a bit. That got my juices flowing, too. My Mr. Happy started getting much happier!

He finally got the DVD set and punched the play button. He just walked over to the sofa, sat down and told me to have a seat and enjoy the movie. A little unsure of myself, I sat about 3 feet away but still next to him on the couch. We both just breathed for a few seconds while the FBI copyright warning flashed across the screen. Neither of us knew where this was going to take us, but it sure was exciting in an odd sort of way.

He had picked an amateur girl-girl flick for us to watch. It was a pretty good choice since that stuff turns me on. It had a pretty slow buildup but neither Joel nor I looked at anything but the screen.

Once the girls got things going on the porno, I found I was getting even more turned on than before. Joel was obviously getting turned on as his erection was pointing straight out of the opening of his robe. He caught me looking at him and just said “I guess somebody has to get this started.” With that he grasped his cock and started slowly stroking himself.

I watched for only a moment. I didn’t know what was turning me on more – the flick on the TV or Joel handling his cock. I simply pulled the towel away from my lap and started stroking myself at about the same pace he was working his

“Why don’t you move a little closer?” he asked. I just stood up and went to move the towel I had been sitting on when he reached out and grasped my cock. He kind of directed me with it so I was standing right in front of him. He started to stroke my cock for me and reached up to fondle my balls, too -I love having my balls played with.

Well, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. I reached down and grasped his shaft trying to stroke him as good as I could, given the awkward angle.

In just a few seconds, the awkward angle was meaningless as he brought his head forward and replaced the hand on my cock with his tongue and his mouth. I had to take my hand off his member to really enjoy this. It felt GREAT!!!

He worked my nuts while licking the head and first couple inches of my dick in his mouth. Sliding his mouth up and down my shaft I completely lost track of why I had hesitated trying this again!

The hand that had been massaging my balls crept in a little further until one of his fingers was just brushing up against my anus. He probed a bit until he found the center and just circled there lightly pressing that sensitive area. Boy, if I thought things felt good before – they REALLY felt good now. I love having that part of me played with during sex. The wet mouth plunging around my cock combined with the gentle squeeze of my scrotum and the pressure on my rosebud was nothing short of spectacular.

The only problem was that I didn’t want to go over the edge just yet. I enjoyed this enough to go on for another 30 seconds or so.

At that point, I pulled away and sat next to him. It only took a second before I grabbed his tool and started licking the head of his still-rigid pole. He put his hand on the back of my shoulders and pulled his heel up to the edge of the sofa. I had a pretty good idea that he wanted some of the same treatment he had given me.

I reached for his sac. He reacted quickly pulling away as his balls are very sensitive. He simply said “I want the other thing.” I knew what he meant. I lifted my mouth from his cock for only a moment so I could readjust my position and seek out his most private area.

Once I found it. I took his cock back into my wet mouth plunging down on it to maximize his pleasure. Pressing my finger at his nether opening was about all he could take. He started a short series of loud but quick grunts. I knew he was getting close. “Stop! Stop!” was all he could manage.

He took me off his cock and pulled me to the carpeted floor. I got on my side thinking he might be looking to 69. Instead he walked over to the drawer on one of his end tables and got out a small tube of what turned out to be lubricant. I wasn’t sure I was quite ready for what I thought he was getting ready for, but when in Rome….

It turned out that THAT wasn’t really what he was going for. “Roll onto your back. There’s something I’d like to try that I’m sure you’ll enjoy.” he said. “Now raise your knees”. Which I did while he came down to his knees next to me.

Opening the cap, he put a glob of the lube on the finger of one hand while grasping and stroking my cock with the other. With his wetted finger, he sought out and found my rear opening once again. He circled there with the lubricant a few times then pushed in just an inch or so. He removed his finger, added some more lube and repeated the process. This time he slid in just a little deeper before backing out a bit. Then in again and out again – all the while maintaining the up and down stroke on my cock with his remaining hand. This was feeling GOOOOOOOD.

After a few more moments of this, he pushed that rear finger in very deeply. Seeking out and finding my prostate he pushed and circled it. Once again he replaced the hand on my member with his mouth taking me in as deeply as he could. As he took me in deeply, he pulled his probing finger back a few inches. He lifted his mouth from the base of my cock to concentrate his swirling tongue on its swollen head. Once again that finger plunged into my depths to nudge the gland inside me there.

Again and again he repeated the process. His mouth sliding up and down my cock. His finger slipping in and out of my backside. I couldn’t hold back any longer and tried to pull him off my cock. He simply mumbled “Go ahead” and continued his ministrations. I arched my back as I emptied the complete contents of my balls into his sucking mouth. My penis shot rope after rope of hot sperm with each deep plunge of his mouth on my cock.

At some point I just ran out of those flowing juices. He ceased his ministrations and pulled away smiling.

I needed a few minutes to catch my breath. It was time to repay the favor (at the very least)! I asked him how he’d like me to finish him off. He just said “Stay where you are, there’s something I’ve wanted to try”.

With that he straddled my chest and leaned forward so his hands were above my head. This presented his straining cock to me directly at mouth level. He wagged his cock a few times across my face while I tried catching it in my mouth. Soon enough, he slid his engorged cock into my mouth and began a fucking motion. He simply wanted me to lay back while he pistoned his cock back and forth.

Again, I reached up to gently massage his balls and again he stopped me, but not because he didn’t like the feeling this time. “I’m getting really close”, he said. I moved my hand away and let him do his thing.

His thrusting got more frantic, occasionally jabbing the head of his cock into the back of my throat. Then I felt the head of his tool get even larger than it already was. I knew what was coming and I knew I was ready.

I felt two firm jets of his semen pulse into my mouth when he suddenly pulled himself out of my mouth. With his fist he pumped the remainder of his load on my cheek and forehead. Once he had fully ejaculated, he nudged my mouth with his cock. I opened my mouth once again allowing him to slowly stroke in and out until his lust was fully spent.

When his lust was fully sated, he pulled away and grabbed the towel from the sofa. He wiped his cum off my face.

He grabbed his robe, put it on and passed me the oversized bath towel he had laid out earlier. I wrapped the towel around myself. We both sat up and leaned back. Using the base of the sofa to prop ourselves up, we watched the last fifteen minutes of the girls and their homemade porno.

When it finally ended, Joel turned to me and said “I have more like that. Wanna watch another?”

Old Cock, Boi’s Ass

webmaster — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 01:55:21 +0000

More Old Cock, Boi’s Ass video samples here!
I’m sure that we all remember our first time. We remember with fondness the guy that made us feel accepted and special. We remember our first love, so deep it hurt to be apart and nearly killed us when it ended. So many memories, tucked neatly in the files of our minds waiting to be savored like a fine wine in a passing moment. I shared the story of my first time with you awhile back and received so many wonderful comments. After that, I shared a fantasy and again enjoyed your approval. Today, I want to share another memory. This one is from slightly later in life, Jeff and I have split and I have started to move on. I hope that everyone enjoys my tale, maybe it will trigger a memory for you.

I stepped out of the shower and began toweling myself dry. I had gotten home from work, gotten a bite to eat and was cleaning up to go out. My eyes traveled to the mirror and I looked at my naked body. My summer tan, bronze and dark, with no lines thanks to my nicely private balcony where I caught my sun. I quickly finished drying and moved to the bedroom to dress.

I stood in front of the closet for a minute before pulling out a pair of tan slacks and a black button down shirt. I thought about work as I slipped into a pair of skimpy yellow bikini briefs. Pulling on the slacks, I pushed that out of my mind and began to concentrate on the evening ahead. I had been so busy for the last few weeks that I hadn’t gone out at all. Work, my recent split with my lover and other things had been more important. Today at lunch I had decided that tonight, I was going to bust loose and enjoy life again. I slipped into a pair of black loafers, looked in the mirror and smiled. I looked good and I was on my way to dance and enjoy a night on the town, look out world.

I got to Ziggity’s about 30 minutes later and ordered an Absolute and tonic from the bar. A very cool place this is, lots of neon, plants and an art-deco kind of feel. There’s a large dance floor in the middle and several small seating areas spread around the room as well as a balcony area that circles above. I scanned the room and sipped my drink, beginning to relax at long last.

After awhile I started dancing, moving around the floor and letting the movement wash away my tension. Occasionally, someone would join me for a moment and then move on. Everyone was just warming up on a warm April evening. After quite a few songs, I went back to the bar and got another drink before finding a seat in a small alcove just off the dance floor that had a view of the fountains outside.

A few friends stopped by to say hello, a couple of them stayed to talk for a bit and went back to the dance floor or some other place. I sipped my drink and watched the room, my mood getting better all the time. I was looking out the window at the fountains, listening to the music when his voice startled me, “You looked thirsty over here”.

I turned, smiling as he sat a fresh drink on the table. I thanked him and invited him to join me. He told me that his name was Bill and that he was in town on business. We talked for a bit and I looked him over discreetly. He was older, maybe 35, with short, dark hair and deep brown eyes. His t-shirt wrapped around a tight waist and thick chest and his occasional smile was warm and inviting. We talked for a bit and I found myself enjoying his company. I had never been with anyone older than 22 or 23 before, so talking to someone who was wiser was refreshing, almost invigorating. He had a quick wit and….something else. He leaned in toward me and I took in the aroma of his cologne as he spoke. “I don’t dance and I’m not sure how you feel, but I have a hotel room up the street and would love to get to know you much better.” He said. Then I felt his lips brush my neck and I knew that I had to say yes.

We left the club and walked out into the warm spring night. Since his hotel was only a couple of blocks away, I decided to leave my car. We walked up the street, talking and laughing. We came to an art shop and I stopped to look at a picture. As I stood looking, Bill moved in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing against me. I sighed softly as he kissed the back of my neck.

After that we, we quickly finished the walk to his hotel and got into the elevator to his room. I watched as he pushed the button for the 40′Th floor and felt the car start to rise. I smiled as he moved closer and placed his hands on my hips. I sensed that he was getting a bit nervous and I leaned forward, kissing him softly. I felt his hands tighten and we came together in a full embrace as our mouths moved roughly together. We pulled apart as the car stopped and a young couple entered. My mind raced, as I grappled with the fact that I was going to a hotel room with a guy that I had just met for the first time in my life.

Up to now, I had only been with friends. Jeff and I had occasionally invited a guy over to join us and on a few occasions, I had been with guys that I knew from the area alone. This was different. First, I had only known Bill for an hour or so and second, he was quite a bit older than I was. Both facts combined to send a rush of excitement through me. We got to his floor and quickly moved down the hall to the room.

Once inside, I looked around, taking in the king-size bed, a balcony looking out over the city and the smile on Bill’s face. I accepted his offer of a drink and excused myself to the bathroom. I came back into the room to find Bill on the balcony. I joined him and we talked while sipping our drinks and looking out over the city. I was feeling very relaxed and warm with him and was wondering if he was ever going to make a move.

Just then, he sat down his glass and turned toward me. I sat my glass next to his and looked into his eyes, smiling reassuringly. I gasped as he took me in his arms and began kissing my neck. Not in the soft, gentle way from the street, but more forcefully, almost desperately. My arms wrapped around him as his lips came down hard on mine and his tongue began to probe my mouth.

We broke our kiss and he began to take off my shirt, his fingers fumbling with the buttons as I pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his thick hairy chest. I moved my hands to help him with mine and slipped it off my shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. My hands moved to his belt and he started to lead me back into the room. I smiled as I un-did his slacks and knelt at his feet, wanting him right there on the balcony.

I helped him out of his shoes then returned to the slacks. Taking the zipper down and pushing them down. He stepped out of them and I moved my hands up his legs until I came to his boxers. I kissed a thigh and then moved higher. My nostrils took in his lovely aroma, a combination of him and a trace of cologne. My hands pushed up and stroked his very nice bulge through his boxers. I looked up and saw a smile on his face, “Do you like that Bill?” He nodded and I pulled the underwear down to expose his lovely cock.

I let my eyes travel slowly down his now naked body, taking in his oh so sexy masculinity. He was square-jawed and handsome in that rugged, 1950’s kind of way. He had short, dark hair and was clean-shaven although he did have the stubbly growth of the day. His chest was covered with a mat of hair that thinned as it grew down his flat belly before coming to the thick thatch at his crotch. His cock was nicely long and a bit thicker than most with a pair of large balls hanging beneath it.

I reached up and cupped his cock and balls in my hand for a moment, loving the heaviness of him. I heard his sigh as I gently kneaded him. I looked back into his eyes as I wrapped my hand around his cock and stroked it slowly from base to tip. I leaned forward and kissed his balls gently before sucking one into my mouth. I heard a deep groan as my tongue rolled it then sucked the other. I could feel his cock beginning to thicken and I left his balls to move on to more interesting things.

I let my tongue and lips slide up his shaft, going ever so slowly, relishing the feel of his flesh. “God, I love your cock.” I whispered as my lips came to his tapered head. “Mmmm, and I love your mouth…oh yeah.” he groaned as I kissed and then sucked the head between my lips. Slowly, I rolled my tongue around him, moving back and forth, as I sucked only the head of his sweet cock. “Nooooo.” I groaned as I felt his hands grabbing my shoulders and pulling me up into his arms.

I moaned as his lips found mine in a long gentle kiss. Our tongues played and we both ran our hands over the others bodies, his stopping to cup my ass. I was almost giddy at the feel of his body against mine, the hair of his chest rubbing against mine. We broke our kiss and he took my hand leading me back into the room. We came to the bed and I smiled as he gently guided me onto it. His hands removed my slacks and then slid my briefs over my hips. “Oh Jesus, you’re so hot.” He said as he slid onto the bed next to me and pulled me into his arms again.

We kissed and stroked for several minutes, enjoying the closeness. After a bit, he pushed me onto my back and began kissing down my body. I sighed and relaxed as his expert mouth teased me. He would kiss here and lick there, sometimes stroking a spot before his mouth got there. I felt him pull a nipple into his mouth and groaned in approval as he nibbled on it. He continued and I just spread out, giving him access to anything that he wanted.

I felt his mouth pass my erect cock and then he was kissing my thighs. He licked my balls and then began sucking my cock, taking the whole shaft deep into his mouth. A hand massaged my balls as he moved up and down on me. I flipped around on the bed so that I could suck him, quickly engulfing his cock in my mouth. I felt like I was in heaven with his rock hard shaft in my mouth as his fucked me. I was getting very close to shooting when he pulled back and flipped me over onto my belly.

His hands grabbed my hips and pulled them from the bed and I gasped as I felt him kiss my exposed asshole. “Mmmmmm, such a sweet ass.” He said and then began to probe with his tongue. I pushed back toward him, moaning as he kissed, licked and slowly probed me with his tongue. I felt his hand move over my ass and then took in a deep breath as he slid a finger inside me. “Oh God yessssss.” I hissed as the thick digit slid deeper and then began to move in and out of me. He worked slowly and gently, taking his time to spread my tight anus.

I was tingling all over, my cock throbbing from his attention. His finger began thrusting in a bit faster and then he slowly inserted a second, spreading me even wider. He began thrusting in and out and then pulling out to tongue me. I moaned and groaned, loving every second. I was so hot, my cock throbbing and my ass tingling and I knew that I had to have him.

I rolled over onto my back and pulled him to me. I kissed him then took his face in my hands. “I want your cock Bill, fuck me please.” I said, my voice quivering with excitement. He smiled and then moved to kneel between my out-stretched legs. He took them in his hands and lifted them to his shoulders. I watched as he took his cock in hand and sighed as I felt the head press against me. Slowly he pushed forward, the head slipping easily into me.

I gasped as I felt him push another inch into me and he stopped. I saw a look of concern on his face and I could tell he was concerned about hurting me. I focused on his eyes and my hands grabbed his hips. I smiled and pulled on him, urging him to take me. “Take it baby, fuck my ass.” I growled. Then I stifled a cry as he gathered himself and buried his hard, fat shaft in my willing ass. “Oh my sweet God.” I whimpered as I felt his balls come to rest against my butt. He stayed there and I trembled beneath him, my ass slowly relaxing around the invading cock.

I felt him slowly pull back until just the head remained and then begin to thrust in and out of me. Again, he worked with a skill that I was not used to. One minute he was slowly moving in and out and then suddenly, thrusting into me hard, fast and deep. I moaned and groaned and whimpered beneath him. “You like that cock in your ass baby?” he asked as he thrust into me. I groaned deep in my throat, “Oh God yes, I love your cock,” I gasped, “Now fuck me, use me, fuck my sweet ass!”

I was quickly rewarded, as he began to slam his cock into me. His cock was like a piston, ramming deep into me with long, steady strokes. Then he pulled out and rolled me over. I quickly raised my hips and felt his cock slide in from the back. I cried out as he found bottom as the new position allowed him to go deeper. He started to thrust, driving himself into me with abandon and I groaned in approval, begging for more.

I lost track of everything except his shaft and I cussed and whimpered, more aroused than ever before. “Oh yessssss Bill, fuck me!” I cried, wanting him to know how much I loved it. I felt a hand wrap around my chest and he pinched a nipple…hard. That was all it took and I felt my cock swell and my balls tighten.

“Cumming! Oh God, yessssssss.” I cried and then groaned as I felt my cock explode, spraying a huge load of cum onto the bed below me. I could feel my ass clenching his thrusting cock as I came and each thrust pushed even more cum out of me. Then I heard him, a deep, throaty growl and his body tensed behind me. “Gonna cum…Oh yesss…gonna cum.” He said. I looked back, “In my mouth Bill, cum in my mouth.” He quickly pulled out and I rolled over. He was stroking his cock and I quickly took it in my mouth, wanting his load.

“Yessssssssss”

I felt him swell and then a huge blast of cum shot into my mouth. The force of it surprised me and I pulled back instinctively. I was rewarded by another, even larger shot splattering on my face as he grabbed his cock and stroked quickly. Two more streams coated my face and then he stopped stroking. I moved forward and took his cock in my mouth, feeling the sticky cum coating my face as I sucked the remaining drops.

Finally, he collapsed to the bed and I rolled next to him. I smiled at him and started rubbing his cum over my face, stopping occasionally to lick a finger. We kissed and caressed and at some point, I fell asleep in his arms.

I woke up in the morning to find a note lying on the pillow.

“Last night was wonderful. Sorry I had to go, but I had to get to a meeting. I’m flying out right after so this is good-bye. Thank you so much for a wonderful trip.”

I showered quickly and headed home. My thoughts were sweet as I remembered the night before. I only regret that I never saw him again.

Well, that’s my story. I hope you enjoyed. I hope that it will trigger a happy memory for you. Oh, and Bill? If you happen to read this and remember a night in Chicago, drop me an E-mail at this site.

Bois Fuck In The Tub

webmaster — Sun, 29 Aug 2010 16:55:21 +0000

More Bois Fuck In The Tub video samples here!
How it all began. When I was 48 I was experiencing urges to try cock sucking but didn’t know how to go about it. One day while flipping through a adult contact magazine I noticed an ad for a mature man looking for a male cock sucker, well I responded to the ad and a few days later I received a note from Kevin who is a 62 year old male with a dominant personality. Kevin gave me his mobile cell phone number to contact him. I was very nervous but rang him and made arrangements to meet him at a local park, I told him what car I was driving and he told me what car he would be in. I arrived early because the excitement was overwhelming and my desire to try this was exciting.

I noticed a car matching Kevin’s description arrive and park next to me, he was a rugged looking man with a powerful body, he got out of his car and got into my passenger seat and introduced himself. Kevin unzipped his shorts and pulled out his cock, it was hard and thick and about 7″ long. He told me to play with it which I did, it felt hard and warm in my hand. He told me to bend over and lick it, again I complied with his request, opening my lips and licking the head with my tongue. I felt his hands on my head pushing me down, so I sucked his cock into my mouth. He called me a cock loving slut and pushed further into my mouth, I was in heaven, feeling completely under his dominant spell. I wanted to please him and swallow his seed, he gripped my hair and began to buck into my mouth, gagging me as his hard cock hit the back of my throat, I continued to suck his wonderful cock, I felt it tense in my mouth and his balls sack contract and tighten. He plunged his cock deep into my throat and then I felt his cum boil up his swollen cock and erupt into my mouth, it was wonderful, shot after shot of his thick cum shooting into my mouth and throat, I swallowed and swallowed until his cock slowly shrank in my mouth.

Kevin told me to meet him at 11am tomorrow at his house and wrote down the address and left. I was reeling from the excitement of what had just transpired and decided to talk a walk in the park to calm myself down. As I was deep into the wooded area of the park, I noticed a man standing in a thick cluster of bushes, he waved me over. I wondered what he wanted so I walked over to him, he never spoke just exposed his hard cock and smiled at me, so I knelt down and took his cock into my hungry mouth. Both his hands cupped the back of my head and he began to fuck my mouth, I couldn’t believe my luck, two cocks in one day and both treating me like a cock slut, he fucked my face hard with his cock pounding into my throat, my saliva dripping from my mouth with every stroke of his fat cock. He began to groan and fucked my face harder and harder with his pubes mashing against my mouth and then his cock spewed cum into my mouth, he held my head hard against his body so I had to swallow his cum or choke. When he finished he released me and walked off. I drove home with a belly full of cum and a sexual buzz from being used by two men.

Tomorrow could not come quick enough but I would have to be patient. In the morning I showered and played with my cock until I came but I was still feeling encouraged to be Kevin’s man slut.

I arrived at Kevin’s house a few minutes early but waited until 11am before walking up the drive and knocking on his door. He answered wearing only a pair of shorts and ushered me into his living room. He commanded me to kneel in the middle of the room and then three other men entered from the adjoining room, all naked with cocks hard and ready for me to suck. Kevin stripped off his shorts and grabbed me by the hair and savagely fucked my moth as the others watched, he then stood aside and told one of the others to cum in my mouth. He was a big man of about 6′2″ tall and his cock had to be at least 8″ long. He grabbed me by the hair and shoved his big cock into my open sluttish mouth, fucking my mouth with hard sharp and fast strokes. All the men were making lewd comments about how much of a filthy cock loving slut I was and the more they said the more I wanted to please them. He kept fucking my mouth and then without warning just exploded his hot cum in my mouth, I swallowed his sticky discharge as he blasted more and more cum into my sluttish old mouth.

Kevin again told another to fuck my mouth, he was a much shorter man with an average sized cock but he had a very mean demeanour. He slapped my face with the palm of his hand before he shoved his cock into my mouth and then slapped my face again with his hand while his cock was in my mouth. He grabbed my hair on top of my mead and jerked me back and forth as quick as he could before he erupted his cum in my mouth and then he pulled out and wanked the rest of his cum over my face.

The third man grabbed my face and slapped his fat cock over my lips, then slowly pushed it into my mouth. It was very thick as it filled my mouth to capacity as it slowly pushed into my throat. He held it in my throat until I thought I would pass out and then he withdrew it, this time he plunged it in faster and faster like a crazed man, grunting and groaning as he brutally ravaged my mouth. I was gagging and the noises emanating from my throat were those of an out of control cock tramp. His cum hit the back of my throat with force, choking me but still he continued to shoot his load into my mouth until he was completely wasted and withdrew.

Kevin told me to lay down on my back and he straddled my face, pushing his hard cock into my mouth like it was a pussy. He power fucked my mouth as his body rose and fell above my head, forcing his cock into the back of my bruised and battered throat and still I felt grateful for being used. Kevin slammed his cock hard into me forcing my head to bounce of the carpeted floor while the others watched my submissive behaviour. I could see and feel that Kevin was ready to flood my mouth with his cum and flood it he did, squirt after squirt blasted into my wanton mouth, as I swallowed this dominant bulls man juice. When he had drained himself in my cum filled mouth, he removed his spent cock and rubbed it over my eyes, leaving a trail of cum glistening over my face. He then told me to fuck off and he would call me when he needed more relief.

I drove home feeling well satisfied with my new life as a mature Bi slut.

Archie19 outdoor party

webmaster — Fri, 27 Aug 2010 22:55:21 +0000

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The first time Dave saw Ted’s ass it was lust at first sight. Those big, beefy buns bouncing up and down in his snug jeans made Dave go weak in the knees.

But that was compared to nothing when the big blonde dude turned around and Dave caught sight of his handsome face. Ted flashed Dave a smile and then turned back around and rammed his hands into his pockets, stretching the fabric tight across that meaty magnificence.

A few days later Dave saw Ted in town and smiled and said hello. The big, friendly bear smiled a smile so warm that Dave thought he would melt. He could feel his cock twitch in his underpants and his mouth was as dry as the desert. It had been ages since Dave had felt like this but this dude’s ass was sheer perfection to a big butt lover like Dave.

Each time the two studs ran into each other in town they would smile and say hello. But then one day Dave saw Ted walking hand in hand with a woman. He felt like he had been kicked in the guts. Just when he thought that he and Ted had some kind of understanding; that possibly, just possibly he might get his hands on those firm glutes he discovered that it was not to be. It took the wind out of his sails.

‘Hey hold up!’ Dave heard someone say one day as he was walking along, lost in his private thoughts.

He turned around and saw Ted wearing a T-shirt and pair of shorts. Dave’s eyes were drawn to Ted’s beefy, hairy thighs and shapely legs.

‘Where’s your girlfriend today?’ Dave asked.

‘Girlfriend?’ Ted seemed nonplussed.

‘You know… the red head with the big…’ Dave started.

‘You mean Cindy!’ Ted said before chortling. ‘That would give her a laugh, you thinking she was my girlfriend!’

‘She’s not?’

‘No, I’m gay. Cindy is just a good friend.’

‘Wow!’ Dave couldn’t hide his excitement. ‘You’re gay.’

‘That’s right.’ Ted replied. ‘And judging by the way you’ve been staring at my crotch I’d say you were too.’

‘Sorry…’Dave stammered ‘I didn’t mean to. It’s just that you’re so fucking hot I can’t help myself.’

Ted put his arm around Dave right there in the street and gave his earlobe a quick nibble.

‘I love the way you look at me!’ he told Dave. ‘It makes me feel like the sexiest man alive.’

‘Oh, but you are,’ Dave replied ‘I’ve been searching for an ass like yours all of my adult like.’

‘Buddy, let’s not waste time talking about it,’ Ted growled ‘let’s get back to my place and fuck.’

Dave let Ted lead the way as he drank in the lust inducing sight of his meaty man mounds swaying left and right. To think that soon he would get his hands on that firm fuck flesh! He tried to picture what Ted’s ass would look like. Would it be smooth or hairy, blemished or not? Either way he didn’t care; he just wanted to sink his shaft into that bountiful mound of man meat.

But Ted was in no hurry to get naked. He took Dave into the living room and started showing him photographs of himself. Dave reluctantly accepted a beer; all he really wanted was a slurp of some tangy man juice but he would have to bide his time. Finally Dave couldn’t hold out any longer and he reached over to grab Ted’s crotch.

Ted grabbed hold of Dave’s hand and held it firmly.

‘Not so fast, buddy.’ he said. ‘You’ve got to give me a kiss first if you want to get into my underpants.’

Dave’s head was in a spin as their lips met and he experienced the sweetest yet horniest kiss ever. His hard cock was crushed up against his belly and was leaking copious amounts of precum, gluing the head to Dave’s smooth, flat stomach. Dave’s hands stroked up and down the big guy’s back, feeling the muscles dance under his palms. Damn! Ted was hot and he wanted him so bad.

‘Please, please….’ Dave begged when he broke off the kiss.

Ted laughed and took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom. Ted flicked on his CD player and some smoky, sexy jazz filled the room. Dave watched in amazement as the big blonde husky hunk started to strip. It was just the sexiest thing Dave had ever seen and his cock was now so hard it actually hurt. Ted took his time and it seemed like an age before he took off his shirt, revealing his perfectly smooth chest and tiny brown nipples. Ted’s eyes never left Dave’s as he performed for his soon to be lover. He knew that right then, in that moment in time, he WAS the sexiest man alive. There was no doubt about it, and it would never be this good again; he was determined to savour the moment.

It took all of Dave’s willpower to resist whipping out his hard dick and stroking off, or jumping Ted and ripping his clothes to shreds but at last the delicious blonde bear was down to his bikini briefs. Dave moaned in excitement when he saw how the pale blue fabric rode right up into the cleft of that massive ass. How he longed to pull that cloth out of Ted’s ass and sniff it. A pair of hefty balls made Ted’s underpants sag low in the front revealing a few wisps of silky blonde hair. It was too much for Dave and he went and kneeled in front of Ted and pressed his face into the stud’s underwear clad crotch, and inhaled his masculine scent.

Ted ground his crotch against Dave’s face, never once missing a beat in his sexy strip. Now at last he stepped back from the lust crazed Dave and slowly peeled off his blue briefs. Lower and lower the waist band went, revealing first Ted’s sparse crotch hair and then his pale, beefy uncut cock and massive, silky smooth balls. It was a sight so overwhelmingly sexy that Dave forgot all about the big butt of his dreams. He took hold of Ted’s fleshy cock and gently peeled the foreskin back, revealing a plum coloured knob that he gently took into his mouth.

Ted sighed as Dave began nursing on his cock. This horny slim, handsome dude sure knew what he was doing and Ted’s cock was now fully inflated to eight fat inches that Dave managed to deep throat to perfection. His hands began to stroke up and down Ted’s hairy thighs, avoiding his butt cheeks which Dave had decided to save for later. He greedily gobbled Ted’s cock until the husky hunk could hold back no longer. He let out an animal cry as he flooded Dave’s mouth with his thick, creamy spunk.

Ted was in a Daze after his amazing orgasm and lay down on the bed. Dave sat beside him and began to gently massage Ted’s back. The big fella was soon so relaxed that he actually dozed off. Some minutes later he woke to the unmistakable sensation of being very well and eagerly rimmed. Ted spread his thighs further apart allowing Dave more access to his little rosebud, which he greedily lapped at while he moaned like a lust worn slut.

Dave came out of Ted’s crack to once more admire those pale, smooth orbs which were as perfect as any ass had any right to be. There was not a single blemish on those lovely cheeks which were easily the shapeliest, fullest and firmest that Dave had ever seen. He stroked them lovingly while telling Ted what a hot fuck he was. He squeezed and fondled and tugged and stroked those beefy cheeks until Ted was so horny that he begged Dave to fuck his asshole.

Dave buried his face once more in Ted’s warm, spicy crack and lubed him up good and proper. Then applying a little spit to his precum slicked cockhead for good measure he slid into that silky warm canal and cried out in ecstasy. That ass was built for comfort and endurance and Dave fucked it good and slow. The lovers were united in pleasure as their skin grew sweaty with exertion. On and on Dave stroked, turning Ted into a mumbling wreck. His ass was alive with pleasure and he wanted this fuck to go on forever but at the same time he wanted Dave to get his rocks off. The sound of a lover groaning in his ear was one that Ted loved to hear.

He began to squeeze his assring tight against Dave’s cock making the top man cry out in delight. Dave was close now, so very close and that slick hot ass that was milking his cock took him right to the edge. Dave gave one last lunge into the depths of Ted’s hot ass and bellowed as his joy juice began blasting out of his overexcited cock and deep into the husky hunk’s massive ass.

The pair lay panting for a few moments before getting up to take a shower. Later that night Dave offered up his tight little bubble butt to Ted’s fat cock and he received the ride of his life.

*

Copyright 2006 Daniel Blue

Two Bois Get Spanked

webmaster — Fri, 27 Aug 2010 02:55:21 +0000

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Dust. All over, on everything. I take in the clutter of furniture in my great-uncle’s attic, sighing as I silently wonder what the hell I am going to do with it all. Nearly every inch of space is taken by sheet-covered antiques in all shapes and sizes.

I hear my mom climbing up the stairs; stepping up next to me, she makes a little amused snort as she stares at the mess.

“That man,” she says, shaking her head. “He knew antiques, and made some killer deals at times, but whenever he sold something with profit… guess what he did with the money?” She gestures with her hand towards the dusty objects. “Bought more antiques.”

“I don’t feel comfortable with this,” I say, turning to her. “Why did he leave it to me in the first place?”

“He always liked you. He probably wanted to make sure you have a little nest egg. And you could use it, you know. It’s always a good idea to have some money in the bank.”

“Yeah, but…” I chew my lip, thinking it over. “I don’t know jack about antiques. What am I supposed to do with it?”

“We’ll have to hire an expert,” mom says, lifting the sheet off the nearest item, an ornate bookcase. “I’ll find a reliable one for you. Some of these things could be worth a pretty penny.”

“Yeah, maybe. If you see anything you like, mom, go ahead and keep it.”

“Thanks, honey. What about you? Don’t you want any of this stuff?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

We push ourselves through the narrow gaps between the furniture, sneezing and brushing off dust from our clothes as we peek underneath the protective sheets. Uncle Bill has helpfully enough attached notes to most of the pieces with information about the age and origins of the items, so mom takes notes on all the things and photographs some of them with her cell.

I edge myself into a corner, pulling off the sheets on the things there: a dollhouse, a washstand and a mirror. I take a closer look at the mirror. It’s taller than me and quite wide, with a square, gilded frame. The guilding is dark and discolored and has a little bead-like patter on the inside of the frame, but otherwise it’s quite plain compared to the extravagant things it’s surrounded by.

I kind of like it.

Mom comes up to me to inspect it. She looks at the tag attached to the hanging device at the back.

“C. 1850, original glass,” she reads. “It seems to be in fairly good shape.”

“I think I’ll keep this for myself,” I tell her. She raises an eyebrow.

“Really?”

I look at it again.

“Yeah. I want to keep it.”

******

I take the mirror with me when mom drives me home. When she leaves, I wipe it clean and hang it on the wall in my bedroom, on the left hand side of my bed. I’m lying in bed now, trying to sleep but my eyes are continuously drawn towards the mirror. At the time, it felt like a good decision to bring it home, but now it just seems really odd. Why would I want a giant mirror in my apartment? What the hell was I thinking? Well, I guess it does give my tiny apartment “an illusion of space” as my mom put it.

Tired of tossing and turning, I get up to get myself a glass of water. As I walk back to the bed from the kitchen I see something in the corner of my eye.

Halting, I spin around and stare at the mirror.

For just a second it seemed as though what I saw in the mirror was not myself, nor my room. I saw someone with red hair, and a room with blue walls. It was only there for a second, but I saw it. Didn’t I?

Hesitantly, I move closer to the mirror. All I can see in it is myself – short and pale with mussed black hair and large, dark eyes that make me look sixteen instead of twenty. That’s what I see in the mirror – not someone with red hair or a room with blue walls. I shake my head, laughing tiredly. I must be sleepier than I thought. I return to the bed, and my head has barely hit the pillow before I fall asleep.

******

Tired as I am, I still manage to get to work on time the next morning. I hang up my coat in the back room and say hi to Alex, my boss and owner of the bookstore affectionately named ‘Alex’s Dungeon’. It’s a used bookstore specialized in sci-fi, horror and fantasy, graphic novels and manga. It also sells some memorabilia, goth toys and rare movies. Alex calls it the nerd paradise of his dreams.

I got a job here when I decided to hold off going to college for a year. I really enjoy the job. Alex and I have become good friends, and dealing with customers is helping me get over my natural shyness, at least at some level. When it comes to dating I’m as bad as ever. I’ve never been on a date, and I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never even kissed a guy. I saw glimpses of opportunities once or twice, but I didn’t dare pursue them.

I know. I’m such a chicken.

Alex, putting up Living Dead Dolls on a shelf turns to me with a smile.

“Hey, John, I’ve been meaning to ask you: you’re still single, right?”

“Yeah…”

I’m out to Alex. He simply asked me one night while we were sharing a pizza. I admitted it and I blushed down to my toes when I accidentally let slip that my love life was non-existent. But Alex could have cared less. He’s a great guy, and really hot in a young Charlie Sheen-kind of way. Too bad he’s straight.

“Well, the reason I’m asking,” he continued, “is that I’m going to hang out with some friends later, and there’s one guy I’d really like to introduce you to. I have a feeling you two might hit it off.”

I’m annoyed now. So, just because he knows I’ve never had a boyfriend he suddenly sees it as his personal mission to find me one? Who died and made him Cupid?

“Thanks, but I already have plans,” I mutter. I consider telling him I already have a date, but I know he will see right through the lie, so I tell him I’m having dinner with my parents. It’s a pathetic lie, and I can tell he doesn’t believe me anyway, but he doesn’t press the issue. Instead he just shrugs and goes to the door to open for business.

******

Sighing as I sit up in bed, I rub my eyes. I was dozing for a few hours, but I woke up and now I can’t seem to get back to sleep. It’s that mirror. I’m not used to it yet, and it’s distracting. Even though I feel stupid, I decide to take it down and lean it against the wall in the bathroom for now. Otherwise, I’ll never get any sleep.

I toss back the covers and shiver. The air is cold. I grab a pair of sweatpants from the closet and move towards the mirror.

I freeze.

My reflection is gone. It’s just not there. I can’t see myself in the mirror, or my room. What I see is the room with blue walls that I thought I glimpsed for just a second the other night. And sitting by a desk, looking at me with wide eyes, a man with red hair. It’s as if my mirror has become a window into someone else’s world. What the hell is happening?

I close my eyes and shake my head. When I open them again, the man is still there. He looks as shocked as I feel. He gets up from his chair and takes a few hesitant steps towards me. I reach out and touch the mirror. The glass is still there, still solid. I withdraw my hand. I can see the man’s lips move, but I can’t hear him. I shake my head.

“What?”

He stays still for a moment, then walks right up to the mirror. I half expect him to walk straight through the glass and I take a step back, but he stops right in front of the mirror. Leaning forward, he breathes on the glass and uses his fingers to write on it:

“Who R U?”

I step up to the mirror. Breathing on the mirror like he did, I write my reply, making sure to write backwards with inverted letters so that he will be able to read it.

“John. Who R U?”

“Darren. What’s going on?”

I shake my head.

“Dunno.”

He looks at me thoughtfully for a moment then holds up his palm and makes a writing motion against it with his fingers. I nod to indicate I understand, then go to grab a pad and pen from my desk. When I return to the mirror, Darren is sitting cross legged on the floor in front of it, holding a pad in his lap. I sit down on the floor also, and he writes something on the pad and holds it up.

“Are you real?”

Not really sure how to reply to that, I write down:

“Last time I checked.”

He smiles at that. He has a very nice smile. Taking his pad, he writes down:

“Maybe we’re both crazy.”

I laugh quietly to myself as I write my reply.

“Definite possibility.”

I hold the pad up for Darren to read. Suddenly, the image in the mirror seems to ripple like water. Darren’s face becomes distorted, fading away, until I can no longer see him at all. All I can see is myself.

I sit there on the floor, staring dumbfounded at the mirror.

******

The next day I almost arrive late for work, having stopped by every puddle of water, every store window, anything that showed my reflection, staring into it, trying to see if Darren would reappear. But I don’t see anything, not a single glimpse.

Arriving at the store, I let myself in with my key. Alex looks up when I come in.

“Man!” he exclaims. “You look exhausted. What were you up to last night? I would say you got laid, but people who’ve gotten laid usually look happier.”

“I was… stuck in a good book. Couldn’t put it down.”

“Oh, yeah? Which one?”

“Uhmm… ‘The Trial’,” I say, too nervous to think of anything else. Alex raises an eyebrow.

“Really?”

I nod.

“Then I don’t blame you for looking so drained. All right, I’ll make us some coffee before we open, you look like you could use some.”

Alex hauls himself out of his chair and goes to the back room. I turn my attention to the manga section which is looking messy as usual and begin sorting out the books, trying to put my thoughts in order at the same time.

It must have been a dream. Everything that happened last night. Just a dream. How could it possibly be anything else? But… it seemed so real. So detailed. I almost never remember my dreams, and the few times I do the are just an incoherent scramble of images.

So how could I suddenly remember everything about last night? Darren’s room. The blue walls. A futon in the corner. Art supplies everywhere. A cluttered desk with a laptop on it. A framed “Nosferatu” poster on the wall.

And Darren himself. His hair. The vivid red color that was obviously dyed, but it really suited him. Some faint freckles on his nose. A little taller than me, but like me he has a slender build. Probably my age, or a year or two older. Now that I think about it, he was kind of cute. Really cute. Gorgeous.

A thought strikes me, and I start laughing. Oh my god! Maybe I’m so sexually deprived that I start imagining cute guys that appear in my mirror. How pathetic. I need a date. Maybe I should take Alex up on that offer to meet his friend. Anyway, that thing that happened last night will probably never happen again, so it doesn’t do any good to think about it. Probably.

But… what if I want it to happen again?

I groan. Oh god, someone slap me in the face!

“Java’s done!” Alex calls from the back room.

Alex’s coffee. That’ll work too.

******

It’s night. Sitting on the bed with a book in my lap, I do my best trying to read, but my eyes are continuously drawn towards the mirror.

It’s like it’s mocking me.

All day long I tried to convince myself that I was just dreaming last night, but still I keep looking towards the mirror, because… because I don’t want it to be a dream. Because I want to see him again. Why I want that so badly is not something that I want to think about right now, though. I’m confused enough as it is.

My legs start to ache, so I get up and stretch them with a groan. Looking at the clock, I see it’s nearing one a.m.

I walk right up to the mirror and put my hand on the glass. I peer into it so closely that my nose almost touches the surface.

“What the hell am I doing?”

I close my eyes and sigh. When I open them again I’m staring right at Darren. I step back, gasping in surprise, and then my mouth cracks open in a huge smile. He’s smiling too, giving me a warm, fuzzy feeling all over. Without taking my eyes off him I sit down and grab my pad and pen which I left lying on the floor last night. He does the same, scribbles down a few words on his pad and holds it up:

“Guess it wasn’t temporary insanity.”

Laughing, I write my answer:

“Apparently not.”

I am sitting almost as close to the mirror as I can get. Some part of my brain is still trying to point out that this can’t possibly be happening, but I don’t really care right now. I can’t take my eyes off that smile, and those eyes. I notice now they’re green, and in this dimmed light they almost have the shade of absinthe.

A little shiver runs through my body. He must have noticed, because his smile widens and he writes down another message:

“So you feel it too?”

“What do you mean?” I ask him

“You know what I mean.”

I almost melt when I see the way he’s looking at me. I know that look, but I’ve never been on the receiving end of it.

Desire.

It’s radiating from his eyes, so intense it’s almost like a physical touch. Unconsciously, I reach out my hand and press it flat against the mirror glass. He places his hand over mine. I hardly dare to breathe.

Leaning forward, I put my lips against the mirror glass. I only meant to kiss it briefly, but I freeze when Darren leans forward and presses his lips against the glass by mine. I half close my eyes, trying to imagine what the soft flesh of his lips would feel like, his arms around me, his tongue sliding into my mouth…

I lean back. At the same time, the image in the mirror begins to swirl, become distorted, and then, just like that, Darren is gone and I can only see myself again. I lie down on the floor with a disappointed sigh. For a while there, I almost thought I could feel him. Almost.

******

“Listen, John…” Alex looks concerned when I look up. “I’m going out with a few of my friends on Friday after work for a few drinks. That guy I mentioned before will be there. Why don’t you come with us?”

I sigh. I should agree to go, I really should. But I just don’t want to. All I want is to see Darren again. I just can’t stop thinking about him.

“Look,” Alex says before I can answer. “At least think about it. I think it would do you good to get out, meet some people.”

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll think about it.”

But in the end, I know I’ll end up saying no, anyway.

******

Later in the evening, falling asleep on the couch, I dream. I am lost in the house of mirrors at the carnival I used to visit as a kid. I walk and walk, but I run into dead ends everywhere. I hear footsteps, and as I turn I see the brief reflections in the mirrors of someone else, moving away from me, and I know it’s Darren. I run, but he is always just out of reach. I try to call out, but I have no voice. And suddenly, somehow, the mirrors have closed me in, blocked off the way I came. I am trapped. I pound my fists against the mirrors, try to break them but I can’t. And I can hear Darren’s footsteps becoming fainter and fainter.

When I wake up I feel sad and frustrated. And not a little bit confused. Why is this happening? Why do I keep seeing Darren in the mirror? It can’t be a dream, it feels too real. Which means that either I’ve gone completely off my rocker, or my mirror is some weird kind of magical object. But how am I supposed to know which it is? How do I find out if I still have all my marbles? The thought of asking anyone for help really scares me.

“Mom, dad… I’ve been having visions of this guy in my mirror. His name is Darren and he’s really hot. Do you think I might be nuts, or is it just the mirror?”

I cringe as I think about it. I can’t tell anyone about this. I can’t.

Then I realize how stupid I’m being and I blush deeply. If it’s just the mirror, then all I have to do is try to find Darren – ask him for an address, a phone number, anything. If he really exists then it can’t be too hard to find him. And meet him in real life… If he’s close by then maybe I can meet him soon. Tomorrow, or maybe even tonight.

I shiver at the thought of being able to touch Darren, kiss him… take him inside my body. Oh god, I want that. So much.

******

The room is dark. Instead of switching on the lamps, I light the candles in my iron candleholders. I throw some pillows on the floor and put out pad and pencil. Then I begin pacing the floor, throwing expectant glances at the mirror, sometimes stopping to polish off imaginary smudges on it with the sleeve of my shirt. I’m afraid of what’s going to happen tonight, and every time I try to push it from my mind it bounces back, making me feel sick with nerves.

I stop pacing when I catch a movement in the corner of my eye. I turn, and there he is, smiling and raising his hand in greeting. Instantly drunk on his smile, I clumsily sit down and he kneels, picking up his pad which already has words on it. Or, one word:

“WATCH.”

He stands, his eyes never looking away from my face. His hands go to the collar of his button-down shirt and begin undoing the buttons, slowly. My mouth unconsciously opens and my eyes widen when it hits me what he’s about to do, and I feel my cock reacting as the shirt is spread open before me and slips off his shoulders, falling to the floor. He has lit candles too, several of them, and their light is making his glorious skin shine.

His hands go to the belt in his dark, torn jeans, unbuckling it. The smile on his face is not teasing or seductive, but warm and tender, and somehow I understand that what’s happening right now means just as much to the both of us. He has opened the button fly on his jeans, and as he slides them down his long legs, I can see the outline of his cock, straining to be free of the black boxer briefs he’s wearing. And then, when jeans and socks have been removed, he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear and takes them off too.

He’s beautiful. So beautiful I could cry, as I stare at the perfect, elegantly defined body. I can’t take my eyes off him. He puts one hand around the large, rosy pink shaft and starts stroking himself.

I rise. I want him to see me too, but I’m nervous, and when I begin to slip my shirt over my head my hands shake. Somehow, I manage to pull the shirt off without looking too awkward. I force myself to meet his eyes as I shyly run my fingers through my hair. He doesn’t seem disappointed, as I expected. In fact, he seems to be devouring me with his eyes as he slowly strokes his cock.

Blushing, I put my hands on the waistband of my sweats. I’m glad I’m not wearing jeans, because my hands are trembling so bad now that I would have looked really stupid trying to unbutton them. Not wanting to prolong the process, I pull down my underwear along with my sweatpants and hurriedly step out of them, kicking them away.

For the first time, I fully understand what it means to be naked, I mean really naked: to stand in nothing but your skin in front of a person you’re attracted to, feeling his gaze on you as if he could see right down to your bones. I’m so aware of myself: my pale skin, my feminine-looking feet, my blushing face, the hardon between my legs… I’m afraid to look at him, and I’m afraid not to look… so I do.

He thinks I’m beautiful. I can see it on his face. No one has ever looked at me like that. And all of a sudden, I don’t feel uncomfortable anymore. I never want him to stop looking at me like that, with that expression, stroking himself.

My hands start to move over my body. I run them up over my belly to my chest, rolling my nipples between my fingers pinching them to make them harden. Darren licks his lips as he watches me, and I wonder what those lips could do to my nipples in real life…

Keeping my left hand at my chest, I let my right hand wander down again, down past my hip to lightly stroke my thigh, then up to close around my penis. I start stroking, breathing faster as the pleasure starts building. Darren is jacking himself fast now, his mouth open, his face flushed.