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Fratboy High Rollers

by Billy Jay


"Gotta tell you somethin' you already know." "Yeah, what's that?" "You've been checkin' me out." "Yeah, you like that?" "Yeah--yes I do. But it drives me nuts not doin' somethin' about it. The other guys went up to Newgate and won't be back ‘til tomorrow. Like to see what I really look like?" "I'm game. But tell ya what--we both make an entrance to the room and come in on the count of three ta do whatever we want. Only thing is that the mask has got to be off. You gotta do what you really wanna do." "Cool idea. Let's get on it. You go there and I'll go here. You count off." Behind the door Michael pops the top button on his 50ls and shreds the old white tee he's wearing so that his chiseled abs show nice above the bulge at his hot crotch. Tim pops a sweat. He doesn't believe this is happening, except his cock is straining to get going. His heart is pounding, but he just does it, he turns around and starts counting slowly. "One!" (He grabs that hard cock of his in his gray sweats.) "Two!!!" (God, what'll I do?) "Three!!!" The two doors open and two 20 year old frat boys, both closet queens, come out to meet each other to do whatever their queer hearts want to do. Tim steps out, and catching sight of Michael, the rough dude,,lookin' hot in jeans and ripped tee, was too much for him--he just leaned back against the doorframe and struck a pose, thrusting his thumbs into the sweats, lowering them to the place where, if he went a hair further, his cock would pop out. In a pseudo-cowboy stance he went passive. With no shirt his nipples showed hard as his cock. There was no mistaking where he was at. Michael just took three strides and grabbed Tim, forcing his hands into those sweats and around Tim's hot-for-action bubble butt. As he felt Tim's firm ass he pressed for a French kiss, causing Tim's knees to buckle from the feeling of being taken in such strong hands and sucked by such a strong mouth. Tim took the kiss. What could he do? This kiss was the kind that eats you up, that doesn't invite participation. This is the kiss of someone who will fuck you up the ass; it is hot, aggressive, in complete control. Tim's hands danced up and down Michael's back and tried in vain to reach his cock but, except for the fact that he wanted this to happen and had asked for it in every way he could show it, this could be a rape. Now running his fingertips through Michael's blonde-tipped short brown hair he managed to break from the kiss to say the words Michael wanted to hear: "Fuck me. Fuck me, Mike!" And hearing those words Michael ground his hips into Tim in a completely unsatisfying way--his jeans and thong were blocking the sensation his cock needed so bad. "Strip down these jeans, bitch." As Tim did as he was told, Michael showed that he was more than the master, he had a heart that wanted to do pleasuring things to Tim and as Tim labored to strip him, he bent over touching Tim in a tender and very sexy way. Yeah, he was gonna fuck Tim hard, but it was also going to be a good trip for both of them. But even with a tender heart, what Michael heard from his mouth was "Come on, come on, you're taking too much time with this shit. My cock needs action now!" "You bastard!! I may be your bitch, but you do what I want and I want you to suck my cock--cocksucker!!" "OK--OK, man! OK, BITCH, you get what you want." With this Michael rolls down those sweats over Tim's seven inches of skinny hard cock. The sweats are discarded and as he got down on his knees he looked up showing Tim his eyes all full of a playful devil who could give and take, both. Taking Tim's cock in hand he let his other hand grab hold of his balls, rolling them like dice. "Boxcars!!" Tim's eyes rolled up and Mike still hadn't given him the best part, his full wet lips pursed to go down on the hard cock. Like a pro, Michael grabbed Tim's hips with both hands and slipped those warm lips of his over Tim's uncut cock head, giving about five or six extra special introductory sucks that must have worked their magic 'cause all that you could hear was, "Ohhhhhhhhh. Ohhhh...ohh. Yea...esss MAN!!" Michael then really got into it. It was like his own cock was being sucked. He liked to do tongue work, eating precum as his prize. The rhythm got going as he went ever deeper and deeper on his tool. School chimes were gonna sound pretty soon and Mike broke stride only to ask quickly, "Ya wanna come now or when I fuck ya?" Tim's answer was in bucking hips and in taking hold of Mike's head to pull him to his first gag on Tim's cock. He was so hot to come he was seeing liquid white light. This blowjob had to go to cream. No stopping his sperm jet was possible and Mike's eyes went as wide as Tim's as he felt the thunder. The bolt of lightning that threw Tim's first licks of cum into Mike’s dude mouth wrenched him and Mike took it like a man with Tim bucking and going "Ugh-Huh!!" as he creamed so nice. And nice was the name of his ass. Now that he had cum, Tim realized that what he was in for was something that scared him--he didn't want it anymore. But the rules of the game required that he give it up. But then, knowing what was in Tim, knowing what giving up your load will do once you've got yours, Mike began to go to work on Tim so that he'd have a full partner. Fuck, his balls were aching and he didn't want a blowjob. For him fucking was the thing. Mike stood up and kissed Tim in a mutual kiss this time, saying "Thank you man, you're good." The kisses rekindled the desire to know Mike's shaft--to have it deep in him. "I got a condom and lube in my jeans. Are you OK? Scared?" Lying the way a decent guy will lie, Tim said, "No, why should I be scared? I want it. Give it to me--fuck me hard, man." Mike had him lay down on the bed and bit on Tim's nipples so that they became hard again and with that his cock stiffened to fuck-partner hardness. Seeing a guy put on a condom made him harder still. Now his heart was beating tom-toms again and judging from Mike's heavy breathing, things were gonna go down OK. Mike’s eyes had an overwhelming intensity in them as he looked into Tim's eyes, which invited his horniness. With Mike's hand all lubed, Tim began to get finger fucked and opened up very gradually. Mike's cool hand between his ass-cheeks was a trip and being probed was no problem. Mike would lay a kiss on his abs and touch him with his free hand so as to keep his lover happy. He knew that he'd get in without any pain, but getting fucked is something that happens in the head as well as in the ass filled with rock hard cock. "Tell me you want it again." "Hey, you're the MAN, I wanna get fucked by the MAN. Fuck me, fuck me now!!" Mike's rock hard member, the prize of his family, slowly entered Tim still pretty tight hole. And just like it can happen, there was no crazy out of the head pain. Loving, tender, confident entry into a well-loosened hole is the trick. But now the heavy part comes: The feeling of another man filling you. You have to want it for the sex to work. And Tim wanted it. He liked Mike's rock hard cock in him. Mike was getting off, and so was Tim, his legs on Mike's shoulders. Creaming land in fuck hole land. Rocking his man, Mike worked himself and his mate into something frothy with wild spikes of pleasure. Mike's dominance made it work. He was getting his rocks off on Tim, a high roller, a natural bottom and moaning fuck-mate. Tim came again as Mike exploded everything he had in him into the guts of the guy who was, just an hour ago, playing a little gay game of hide and seek. Hide, open yourself and be found. The stakes are high, but you gotta play. jimhart42@aol.com


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27 Gay Erotic Stories from Billy Jay

A Durable Sex Life

A guy with a really hard slap-shot erection feels like his tool is bound with cinched-up thick leather straps and at the core of this bull-leather fuck tool he carries a totally awesome sensation like something is jammed down the center of his cock, an inflamed wire that spreads out with leads to both his balls, feeling like they're pulsing and radiating something that must happen,

A Major Fuck

Sir, Can I have a pull on your dick? Yes, but you must start out with the lightest touch you can. I like to feel it. I like to feel it good. Crunching down his boxers in a move devoid of strain, a move that was athletic and masterful, he exposed his organ and I almost took it in my mouth when I felt the shock that came from seeing his erection. He was a major and I was a

Andanda's Way

Pops, darts and twirls. Twinkling of half looks at one another. Longtime stretch of this partytime non-encounter is that he and I can't seem to get close enough to one another to satisfy the need to have each other in full view. What agony. I'm seeing enough that I have a drilled heat shimmering in my insides that is intensified by the absolute necessity to appear cool as I move in

Big Dick in Evenin' Time

Teddy was a pick-up artist, which was clear. And me, I stay clear of trickers--AIDS is big in my head and that's not my game, to die of AIDS. I'm always doing a self-test of what it is I think I'm doing when I head into a gay bar: I don't drink. I'll order a gin and tonic and nurse it with a big tip up front. Basically, I'm looking for a clean guy for some kind of relationship that

Different Strokes For Me And Franky

Wildwood was our target. The 'Coney Island' of South Jersey is what it is and is the only place to go when you want to hang out looking for excitement. Franky and I worked for Sears in Receiving and got each other hooked on the idea of taking our three days off on the 4th of July in Wildwood. It's a place for guys on the make and just about anybody who's lookin' for a good time.

Farmboy Foolin', Part 1

Sitting on the edge of his chair at the kitchen table, Ned's right leg was bouncing rapidly and as he leaned over the table his muscular arms encircled the bowl of Cheerios he was spooning into himself while he gazed blankly at the sports page. Baseball season was in its early days and he liked seeing photos of the players in their tight pants more than he liked the game.

Farmboy Foolin', Part 2

Whoever said it was OK for guys to be gay? Dumb question. But not for Ned. And Lord knows this dumb question must be around--it's rare for dumb questions to exist isolated in only one individual. That would be genius, wouldn't it? No this dumb, right-on question that was aching inside Ned was in Lester's gut, too. In Ned, whose unrealized vagrant sexuality was throwing the furniture

Farmboy Foolin', Part 3

Jim O'Brian stood behind his wife on their farmhouse porch with his arms wrapped warmly around her, rocking the two of them gently side to side. After 30 years of almost non-stop labor they saw in their family and abroad their hundreds of acres of well-tended farmland something that filled them with deep joy. The pleasure of this particular morning's snuggle on the porch was knocked

Farmboy Foolin', Part 4

At puberty a boy's eyes grow. His first intentional ejaculation with its bracing horror and glazed trance of dilated pupils fixed to his hard dick is a once-in-a-lifetime experience that triggers every shaggy rocketing of cum from then on. He is awarded a hot body--a hot body with more erections than a field of weeds. This morning on the farm Ned and Les were hot-wired to get back

Farmboy Foolin', Part 5

Les was certain as any virgin boy could be that he could tease and seduce Ned just by fitting himself into a perfect pair of cock-and-ass jeans. Seeing himself in them got him to feeling like a rooster and he let out one hell of a Rebel Yell to let the world know he was ready to let ride, oh yeah, Sally, oh yeah, RIDE! But it was that yell that jumped out of him that brought Ned

Farmboy Foolin', Part 6

Back when Ned was in the 10th grade at McFarland High, he tried doing something that gave him a lasting scare. He had seen the way Lonnie, the class queer, walked and Ned, who had just admitted to himself that he was gay, wanted to try walking like Lonnie to see what it was all about. He picked a place where nobody could see him and in a few minutes he had it down: he could walk as

Farmboy Foolin', Part 7

"Did ya swallow it?" Les looked up at Ned with a sly look, his mouth partly open. At each corner of his wide mouth were small streams of cum and you could see on his tongue a little lacey evidence of the creaming he had gotten from Ned. But he stuck his tongue way out the way a kid does and said, Yeth, I-think-I-god-eth-awe." Then, to drive his joke home he switched to a mock snob

Farmboy Foolin', Part 8

Ned's eyes popped open when he felt his dick getting hard again. He had been having a dream that he was a trapeze artist and that he was coupled with Les high in the circus tent having sex, and the excitement was derived from their swinging so high with a degree of pride that was above all fear of death. The high-flying dream of sexual prowess worked on his recumbent cock and, with

Farmboy Foolin', Part 9

Les left Ned's hot embrace and scampered to the bathroom to prep his ass so that Ned could do everything to him that comes with a good fucking--his first. Their first. Ned was left alone in a highly aroused condition. Even without an aching hard-on he hated being apart from Les. He picked up Lester's bib overalls from the floor and went through his buddy's pockets to find the condoms

Farmboy Foolin', Part10

Les's mother died when he was twelve. She died suddenly from a ruptured aneurysm just minutes after she saw Les off on the school bus that October day. Blue sky day, but it was horrible. The tragedy was compounded when Les's father, who had always been a little sharp with his kids, became ever more irritable and his children were not exempt from his angry outbursts which worsened each

Farmboy Foolin', Part11

Two naked lovers jostled one another intentionally in the hall as they made their way to the shower. Ned pushed and tickled Les and Les came back laughing with his own poking finger. They were making some headway towards the shower the way Daffy Duck of cartoon fame made headway--bouncing off walls. Les took up the goofy thing and turned the tables on Ned, pushing him up against the

Felling The Big Pine

The windows are open and a light cool breeze is blowing into my room where I'm stuck in a pile of books required for my Landscape Design 102 course. The finals are close and I have already shot half the weekend reviewing the course materials. It's Saturday night and I'm dull to the books, drifting into a dreamy thing that is a mix of this text which covers the varieties

Flyer Boyz Obligato

He's wearing dirty white jeans and a gray T-shirt. Bondage and masturbation indicated. He doesn't look the type--they never do. But fuck man, he's got the bod I like an' in this soaking rain we've gotta hustle to get a whole sack of damn flyers delivered to four blocks of houses. I'd dump them, but the bastard told us he'd drive around to see 'em before he paid us. We're keepin'

Fratboy High Rollers

"Gotta tell you somethin' you already know." "Yeah, what's that?" "You've been checkin' me out." "Yeah, you like that?" "Yeah--yes I do. But it drives me nuts not doin' somethin' about it. The other guys went up to Newgate and won't be back ‘til tomorrow. Like to see what I really look like?" "I'm game. But tell ya what--we both make an entrance to the room and come in on the

Gettin' Him Good

Soren and I had just about had done all we could in making a clearing near the pond for his family's upcoming reunion picnic. With mowers and saws and whackers we sweated up a hundred foot space for a half dozen picnic tables and a couple of bar-b-ques. "Kirk, take a drink of this." I was handed a bottle of Mountain Dew and knocked it half down before I got a jolt from Soren who

Hot Cock Rules!

Just a few minutes before Bram and I were standing shoulder to shoulder on the wooden porch drinking our beers, looking out at this strange town that sits alongside the Schuylkill River, which here, sixty miles north of Philly, is just a broad shallow creek good for skipping stones and fishing. It's late November we're only standing outside because the wood frame house I inherited

Just On The Rocks

Tight purple jeans. You don't see jeans like this on guys, but from my experience, just follow the tight purple jeans like you follow the yellow brick road. The guy wearing them was about 23 or 24 with streaked shaggy-blonde hair, eyes which were dark brown and locked onto the eyes of his targeted sex-mate for the night. Powerful biceps popping out of a muscle T-shirt and thighs that

Mac Had A Switch

Even the nastiest blue collar jobs have this in common with the executive positions of any kind, they all involve a great deal of time just standing around. There are exceptions to this, like the pot washer and the miner. But from what I've seen, even when you're geared to do a job there are just times when you can't do a thing because you have to think it through or because you're

My First Time Doing Phone Sex

I remembered that John told me one time that he did phone sex and because we had just begun living together it was just an item I tucked away, I guess, for today. He's taking a summer course in Toledo, Ohio, and I'm stuck here in Philly. I'm horny and it's phone sex time--9 PM. He'll be studying and now I'm gonna blow him away. Billy: Hi John what cha doing? Could I string you up

Stripping Down The Speedos

I'm Klick and my best friend got his nickname at the same time I got mine--he's Ridge. How? We were always taking out war movies and it's always the same story in the infantry: "Hey, how many more klicks do we have to go? Answer: About another three klicks across this ridge." Etc. So our friends named us Klick and Ridge. We were always hanging around one another. With four years

We Oughta Get Up

My cot was jammed next to Terry's in the Senior Counselors tent, so close that I could reach across to his cot. I had kicked off the blanket and top sheet in the night, so wearing just a white tee and white boxer briefs I was laying in a bed with everything in a tangle. The sweaty sheet that I was laying on had come loose and exposed the lumpy old mattress. Laying on my

Wranglers Workin' It On The Side

When you want a guy you want him. So I wasn't going to play games with Lee. Here was a guy who was tall and so lean that his dick was something that lay in his jeans like a fist. This cowboy wore his Wranglers like they were part of him and he was the sexiest bastard I ever saw except for myself. I had a picture of what I wanted to happen. Those work jeans, tight and torn and

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