Gay Erotic Stories

[This story was previously published in "In Touch" magazine under the name "The Lead Wolf" with the byline of "Jason del Maris." With this publication, I am relinquishing my copyright and putting the work into public domain. Reprint as you wish, only leave the byline "by Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM" intact. That's all I ask!] . Kurt's pale lips sought out mine. I let him kiss me, let him send his tongue as a pink worm into my mouth, give him this impudence, this pleasure as I grease up my cock, though I am indifferent myself to this jousting with tongues. I had one leg between his, his ballsac roiling against the hairs on my leg as he squirmed in my embrace, and I reached for his free leg to lift it upwards toward the starlit night, toward the moon that tomorrow night would be full and even this night painted the trees with black lines and silver pearls. It's the sort of night that sends animal thrills through my brain and into my loins; I convulsively embraced Kurt, and bit at the muscles in his neck, playful yet hungry. I imagined how his throat would taste as my teeth sank into it, how his blood would gush hot into my hungry mouth, how he would squirm and clutch at me, desperately fending me off, but so ineffectually, as my teeth found his windpipe and with one jerk it would break into the open air, the arteries spraying an impossibly bright red froth into my mouth, and he would die. But no, I thought, this is the animal inside of me speaking, flailing to get out. I fought away from the bright, deadly images, and instead I used my gathering strength to one-handed lift Kurt off the ground by his leg, to spread his lithe buttocks and gain access to the deep pink between. I found his entrance with my cockhead and it welcomed me into itself, him clutching my shoulders with his weak hands, and I pushed into him, to sink my manhood as a brown invader into his pink-fresh body and nestle deep inside of him, and he moaned, his mouth clutching at mine, sending his passion voice into my throat. I pushed him away and rested my knees on the ground to gain leverage, and he lay back against the carpet of dead leaves of the forest floor, only his head lifted up to lock eyes with me, and I gave him the barest hint of a feral snarl as I pumped in and out of him, hard, possessing him with my thrusts, taking his body for my own. Kurt sent his white hands into my chest fur, and ran his slender boyish fingers through them as though combing, a lust mixed with envy because I am so hairy and he is so smooth. He dared to pluck at my fur by squeezing them between his fingers and pulling to make sharp pricks of pain across my chest. I retaliated by a hard thrust into his bowels, and gave my lunges a rough speed that made him grimace and groan with pain and pleasure. "Uh, uh, oh, God, Phillip, oh!" he begged me, not daring to say the words of pleading themselves, but by his broken patter begging for some scrap of mercy from me. I wrapped his leg around my waist and he rested it there; I reached to take him in my arms and he gratefully caressed my hairy back as I made my thrusts shallower and less of an onslaught, instead merely humping my loins at him and he rested both his heels on my buttocks to add his own body to the fray. A howl rebounded in the night, a wolf-sound to the untrained ear, but I knew better. Edgar was calling me to the hunt. I hated him for his timing, his howl that sneaked in to cancel my passion, and I tried to deafen my ears by grunting into Kurt's throat where I sank in my flimsy human teeth, not enough of a purchase to let me tear the muscle, but enough to make Kurt groan with passion and pain. He shouted into the now-still night air and I smelt the salty rank of his sperm and felt the slickness as he spent himself upon my stomach. His ass was clutching at my cock as he sprayed his seed on me, and I jabbed into him, harder, faster, using the friction to send myself over the edge and I fell into my passion, let it own me as I tried to use my cock to split Kurt from sphincter to sternum. Growling, I blasted my load into him, a copious flood that dribbled onto my balls as I wilted and fell out of his ravaged body. I rested my weight on his chest as I caught my breath, and let myself enjoy the smells of our spent lust and the living night, all the animal and plant smells of nature from vibrant life to decaying death. Another howl sounded, this one very close, and Kurt jerked. "My God, Phillip, that wolf's getting closer." he said. "We'd better go." "Yes, you'd better go." I said as I kissed him quickly on one cheek. "The woods aren't safe for you." "Come home with me." Kurt said. "We have room. You and I could work the fields by day and make love by night." But he was dressing as he spoke, and his voice tremored, I knew the wolf had him scared. I leisurely pulled on my pants while he tucked in his pull- over shirt and looked up at me while tugging on his work-shoes. "Well?" he said. He expected an answer? "I could never live that way, Kurt. It's best to leave things as they are for now. Later, there'll be time for us to make decisions." "I'd better go. These woods aren't safe by night. Wolves have been getting into our chickens. You're sure you won't come home? My house is only a little ways, you know." He snuggled into my arms and I kissed him before I answered. "I know. I am meeting a friend here, and we're going hunting." "But the wolves...." I stopped him with another kiss. "I can handle wolves, don't you worry." And I flexed my abundant muscles to let him think I meant my strength. "My friend will be here any minute. You'd better run." "Come have breakfast with us, then. You know where we live?" I thought about it. "All right. I'll be there a little after daybreak." "I'll tell Maw." I patted his buttocks and sent him on his way. Behind me, I smelt Edgar's presence, and turned to say, "Damnit, Edgar, you were supposed to wait until the moon was overhead." I was facing a large, feral wolf with eyes red in the moonlight. The wolf snarled at me, and growled. "Change to human form, Edgar." I said, and gestured to show what I meant. The wolf changed, elongated, became a man nude and hairy who was resting on feet and hands, and he straightened up. "I said that you know the hunting gets worse by midnight. We'll be lucky to find anything at all still out this late." "You know better than that." I said. "The truth, now." "I wanted to see him." he said, and looked down, but only briefly, then his eyes matched mine in defiance. "Well, then?" "I don't see the attraction." Edgar said. "He's so thin. Skin and bones. He wouldn't last a five-mile run." "We don't do much running." I laughed as I went over. Edgar sniffed and ran his hands onto my stomach, to find the sticky coolness of Kurt's sperm, and he held the moist wetness up to glisten in the moonlight. "I can tell that." "Are you getting jealous?" I asked him, putting my arms around him. "Maybe a little." he agreed. "After all, we're all alone in this world. We know there are no more of us here. Why are we sticking around? The hunting gets worse by the day, and if we have to stoop to raiding the chicken coop again I'm going to turn human and stay there." "If you can manage that, you have my permission." I laughed and took him in my arms. He could tell by my smell that I wasn't offering lovemaking, just giving him a little reassurance, and he took it, relaxed into my arms and let me hold him, for comfort and a reminder of things past and yet to come. "We'd best be off." he said, his voice muffled by my shoulder. "Yes." I said, and turned into a wolf, kicking off the useless pants. Edgar and I, two wolves, took off down a deer's trail, and I permitted my animal mind to take over while I rode, a passenger in my own body. How can I explain the life of a lycanthrope, a werewolf if you will, to one such as you, who have never felt the thrill of the change and the pleasure of running in the night? We aren't what you think we are. We aren't half-beasts, for example, but change from human to wolf and back again. We aren't afraid of silver bullets, except that any bullet can kill. We die as easily as you do. We can change at any time, it's just that humans can see better during a full moon and are more likely to observe us. Our bite does no more or less than the bite of any wolf. We are born to human parents, and as far as we knew, Edgar and I were the only two werewolves in the world. We had hunted over most of the habitable lands, and found no scent of any lycanthrope but ourselves. Hearing all this, you may wonder, why change at all into a wolf? First, there is the need, the need to change. It begins as a growl in your vitals, the urgings of your inner, animal self. To deny the wolf is to deny yourself. A day or two is the longest we can go without changing, before the need becomes so strong as to be overpowering. A threat to our life, and we change at once; it's as though the subconscious feels safer as a wolf. Another reason for the legends. Then there is the ability to see at night, which gives the forest an other-world glow to it, the glow of moonlight and starlight amplified a hundred-fold. On a full moon, I could read you the fine print of any contract. With a quarter-moon, I can read a book. And, most of all, there are the scents. How can I explain the wolf's sense of smell to any regular human, you with your pitiful sense that barely tells you someone has farted in the room? How to express it? I cannot save I tell you in detail of that hunt. I could tell, running down that deer trail, that no deer had trod it for at least six hours' time. I could smell the leaves on the trees around us, and a patch of cowslips off to the left a ways, which no deer had cropped, but that rabbits had been at very recently. Fat rabbits, fat from raiding a human garden, fat from new carrots and spring-green lettuce leaves, which they prize so much that they'll risk the hunter's gun. They had been here, for cowslip is almost as sweet to them. The scent of rabbits underground was hanging over the air; I estimated their burrows to be a hundred feet further away from the trail. When we hunt, I always lead, and so I led Edgar off after the rabbits. Edgar barked, telling me in wolf talk that he'd rather have the deer, but I snarled back at him, and so told him that we'd get the deer another time, but tonight, rabbit was on the menu. They were there, five burrows with twenty-six rabbits inside them. How can I tell? Rabbits each have a slightly different scent. So do humans, even you may have noticed that. I picked one burrow slightly off from the others, and from the scent of fright inside the damp burrow, with no other way out, and shallow, as well, and holding three rabbits. I dug at the burrow entrance and the scent grew stronger. One rabbit bolted between my legs. I left the straggler for Edgar to deal with and had the other two's fur nuzzling my nose in a few moments more. The scent of fresh blood told me Edgar had the first rabbit, and I pulled a second from the burrow, screaming, and sank my teeth into its neck while one of my paws held the third in place. I tossed the second aside and dug out the third, laying him out beside the others. Edgar and I each ate one of the rabbits raw, to appease the wolf's need for fresh blood. I felt the moist heat of barely- dead tissue, the heart still beating sporadically as if it could somehow return this beast to life. I ate that rabbit, fur, bones and all, gulping it in huge bites as a wolf does, and leaving nothing but a small patch of blood to mark its passing. Done, I looked at Edgar, still mauling at the fur as though trying to chew it. Fur doesn't chew, but Edgar seems to need to try. I snarled at him to hurry up, and he gulped it down whole (his punishment for trying, it gags us to swallow more than a bit at a time) and looked at me. I yapped a quick order, and the two of us were men standing in the rabbit town. I heard the rabbits start as the smell of wolf turned to smell of man. I licked my lips, then wiped them with the back of my hand to get off the traces of rabbit blood. "I'm for going back to our den and cooking this last one properly." I said. Edgar patted his stomach and said, "Why not?" It was only a short walk to our "den" and we did it as men, two naked human males treading a forest at night. We made it back to our "den", which was nothing more than our word for our campsite. I roasted the rabbit on a spit and sprinkled it with salt. The smell of roasting rabbit was enough to make us both drool and we feasted on half a rabbit each, enjoying the hot taste of rabbit cooked in the open air. Raw rabbit for the wolf, and cooked rabbit for the man. I laughed with sheer joy as I wiped my greasy hands on my thighs. "Well." I said, looking at the moon now low in the sky. "It'll be light in a few hours. Shall we sleep now and go try to trade in the village tomorrow?" Edgar moved against me and I felt his boner brush my calf as he crawled upwards toward my face. "Something like that." he agreed and I reached for his face to kiss him. I kissed him, and let him run his tongue into my mouth with its taste of freshly ingested rabbit. Why do so many men like this business with tongues! But I let him. "Sure you aren't too tired from your playmate?" Edgar teased. I laughed. "I'm not that old, yet. And neither are you." "True." Edgar said as he ran one hand down my chest and stomach to grasp my cock, growing hard, but still nestling among my balls between my thighs, uncoiling like a snake among rocks. I put an arm over Edgar's head to rest my hand on his back, a possessive gesture (I was lead wolf in our little pack) while he fished for my man-snake now lengthening and stiffening for him and he lifted it to his lips to kiss its head gently. His tongue danced along its length to wet it down and he filled his mouth with his saliva (I could, even in human form, smell his spit still alive with the taste of roast rabbit), to finally take first just my cock-head, then deeper with each stroke, wetting my cock down its nine-inches of stiffening lust until he was deep- throating me with practiced ease, loving my long boner the way only a long-time lover could. I grabbed Edgar by his head, threaded my fingers through his hair and forced him to take the entire length even deeper and he bore it as he always did. To be held in place by my arms while he sucked on my cock, he had admitted to me, was his favorite form of love-making, so I used his face with confidence born of more than my strength and position in our little tribe. Edgar looked up with his deep brown eyes and the corners of his mouth managed a smile as he kept up his suction. I smiled gently down at him and held his gaze until he had to turn away (the old wolf-game of "stare down" which I always won) and turn his attention back to my schlong; he speeded up his attack, hunching his cock against my leg, and I lifted my gaze to the sky (I saw an owl fly across the moon, black silhouette) up to the eternal stars, then closed my eyes and gave myself to my pleasure. I was fucking Edgar's face hard, the way he liked it, the way I always did, to send my cock down his throat again and again, deep, deep, and still he took it without whimpering or protest, and I let my passion take me, to maul me with its pleasure like a whip wrapping around my body, and I groaned, blasted my load into Edgar's hungry mouth. He swallowed all of it; he had no choice for I held him too tight to let him evade it; he gulped and swallowed and grunted for the first time an urgent grunt and I felt his seed splatter against my foreleg and fell into a dark of near-unconsciousness in which the stars of night danced a ballet for me behind my tight-closed eyelids. A quick shift off of my stone, and we were in our bed together, Edgar and I. I kissed his lips to taste my come there, and he wrapped himself around me and, lead wolf and follower wolf, we went to sleep. Edgar and I have always followed the same pattern of sleep, a few hours in the early morning hours after a hunt, and a "siesta" in the afternoon. So we woke in the dawn after the sun had kissed the clouds into white glory, but before it had yet managed to paint the trees with more than a vague grey-green. I pried myself from Edgar's tight embrace; he holds me when he sleeps as though he feared he might lose me in the night. And he awoke as he always did when I roused. He watched he as I dug among my clothing. "What's the hurry?" he asked plaintively. "I promised Kurt I'd have breakfast with him and his mother." Edgar pouted. "You spend too much time with that boy. We ought to be moving on, you know. It won't be long before the hunters decide to remove us as a menace." "I know." I said. "I'm going to say good-bye to Kurt. Where the hell are my pants?" "You left them back there where you and that kid made love." "He's not a kid." I pointed out. "He's nineteen. He just looks younger because he's such a small man." "And you like them that way." Edgar grinned. I didn't deny it. Kurt's smallness was his most attractive feature, the compact maleness of him, the slenderness of his arms as they reached for me, the small legs that strained to meet around my tree-trunk thighs, the.... "You're getting a hard-on." Edgar pointed out. "Need some help with that?" "I'll let Kurt take care of it." I said. "Just before I say good-bye. Go back to sleep." "I think I'll hit that rabbit-town again for my breakfast." Edgar said. I walked to where I had left my pants, and tugged them on and was fully dressed for the first time in days. As I left the woods into the cleared meadows around Kurt's family's farm, I heard an eagle call gladly on the height, perhaps to its mate. I smelled fresh-cut hay and cow manure and a small patch of deadly nightshade which I turned aside to pull up for fear it would find its way into Kurt's lean body and work harm. Shaking the clods from its roots, I tossed it onto a stone so the sun would dry it and destroy it, dusted my hands on my trouser legs and walked on to the house. A frail, elderly woman opened the door. "Yes, young man?" she asked. "I'm a friend of Kurt." I said. "He invited me to breakfast." "Ah, you must be Phillip. Come on in. He's out doing his chores and will be back soon." And I was forced to make small- talk, lying to her mostly about my life, while waiting for Kurt to come back. Thank God he didn't take long, and with a burst of sunlight made human he charged through the door and brazenly into my arms. I kept it friendly only, and Kurt jerked, remembered, made his introductions. We spent a time in a domestic farming scene while we ate, the three of us, and I enjoyed it, and was almost sorry it was over. Finished, I said, "Kurt, could you come with me out to your barn. I saw something there on my way in that you should look at." Kurt grinned and it hurt me inside; I was going to say good- bye. But he wiped his mouth and followed me out the door. Only a few weeks' acquaintance, and Kurt had already learned I hated to have someone walk beside me. He kept his place a pace behind, and kept up a jaybird chatter while we walked. Hay was stacked in bundles that nearly filled the barn; Kurt led me up onto the hay and into a small niche there, privacy enough for anyone. "This is where my brother brings his girlfriend." Kurt said. "Now, what do you want to show me?" I looked at his slender, small form and felt a pang of loss. I covered by taking Kurt roughly into my arms, kissed him hard and hugged him to me tightly, so he wouldn't see the hint of tears glistening in my eyes. I felt his slim fingers caress my back, running lightly over the ridges of muscle it found there, and I bit at Kurt's ear lobe, and to my startlement, I found myself sending my tongue inside that shell-shaped flesh to touch each curving crinkle, moisten it, probing into his tunnel and its sour-wax taste. "Ooh!" Kurt said as he felt my intrusion and his fingers turned into points, his nails nearly biting into my flesh like so many knives resting there. I felt his erection beneath his clothes as it poked at my thigh, and I reached down to pull loose the cord binding his trousers and inside to fondle the hot, steel-in-velvet shaft that was his penis. I felt so tender, not lead wolf at all, but more like a mother wolf nuzzling her cub with her red tongue, I stroked Kurt's small body, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it back to taste his wan flesh, letting my tongue dance over his body while I tugged down his trousers. Every time he started to move to reciprocate, I would push him back, and he acquiesced, enjoying this rare treat I was giving him, my worship of his body for the first time in our lovemaking. His cock was red and enraged, red against his white body, and I slurped around it, getting it wet the way Edgar always did mine, and then, my mouth drooling at the thought of the taste of Kurt's manhood, I slid him down my throat to the very base on the first stroke. Kurt gasped, cried out in astonishment as I nursed his cock for its seed, relishing the taste of salt on my hungry tongue, the heat of his organ. I gulped it down all the way once more, gagging but loving it at the same time, and Kurt hunched upwards at me to add his power to mine, and I speeded up, making small grunts I didn't bother to muffle, my mouth giving out rich, round syllables of suction with each stroke. Kurt's fingers knotted in my hair and he dared to push at my head with them, trying to send his cock deeper, and deeper, and I permitted this impudence, eager now for this submissive role. His cock warmed to a hot pole in my mouth, seeping a deep musk in my nostrils, and Kurt groaned, shoved his cock deep into me and held me there and I felt rather than tasted his seed spray into me, feeling the pulses of his warm cock as each burst jetted forth. Kurt released me at last, gasping and I remembered my own need, squeezed the combination of my saliva and his left-over sperm onto my palm, greased up my cock pulsing angrily at being forgotten and I pulled down my pants hurriedly, lifted Kurt's trousers up to his knees and squeezed into the opening of his legs, squirming up to lie in his arms, and I guided my cock into his eager pucker, pushing it in quickly, urgently, near-blind with my need, and as I sank my schlong in to the hilt, my orgasm built up in me, so quickly. It is the way a pack wolf can mate under the eyes of the lead wolf, doing his mating so fast there is no time for the lead wolf to interfere, and so I mated with Kurt like this, with no strokes on my penis, just pushed in and orgasm struck, a strange feel as though my lust was not under my own power, but something outside of me, yet my mind was subject to it, I was lost in passion, blind and deaf and utterly lost, and I made sounds of animal growls as I unloaded into him. Kurt's nails raked my back, sharp lines of pain that added to my passion, and I finally hunched at him, to squeeze a few more instants of orgasm out of this moment, but failing in the end and was dropped like a dead leaf by my desire, and I lay limp in his arms. "Nice." Kurt breathed after a time. "You give such good head, man." "I wanted a part of you in me." I explained, as though that said everything. Kurt smiled. "All right. But what was all the hurry?" "Let's get out of this hay and I'll tell you." I said, pulling up my pants and clambering down, leading the way out from this place with its odor redolent of tamed, defeated animals. Kurt followed me, puzzled, as I took us into the fields, away from all sign of his house, and turned to say the words of farewell. I heard a wolf call in the distance, stopped. "What is it?" Kurt asked. "Wolf." I said. "Ah, don't let the wolves bother you." Kurt said. "My brothers and father are out now with our dogs. They'll be dead by nightfall." And the wolf call sounded again and I started running pell- mell toward the sound, the direction of our den, of the rabbit- town, wherever Edgar was. I knew the call, he was in trouble. The hounds bayed, and I knew that Edgar was running in front of them. I yanked off my shirt as I ran, not hearing Kurt's call behind me as I fought free of my clothing. There was no help for it, if I was to save Edgar. In clear view of another human, I changed into a wolf and was galumphing off, no doubt leaving him behind in an astounded stupor. I tracked Edgar's calls, and the hounds' baying, as I ran. I called to Edgar, and he turned toward me, begging me for help. He was tired. The hounds were getting closer. I let my tongue loll to one side of my muzzle as I forced my body into more speed. Wolves are built for a long run, but not at the full tilt I was running. Panting, my chest barrel heaving, my tongue dripping heavily, my eyesight blurring, I nearly ran head-on into Edgar as we found each other in the trackless wood. "Phillip, run!" he said. "The hounds." "No." I said, gasped. He couldn't run any further, and I would not leave him. "I'll handle this." And Edgar collapsed onto his side, catching the moment of rest we would have until the hounds caught up with us. My hackles raised, my fur a ridge as fully formed as a razor-backed hog, I waited for the hounds to catch up with us. There were four of them, none very big, and the sight of me standing in front of them caused them to stop, yap in surprise. I growled and snarled and darted at them, first one, then the other. If they would run away, we could escape from the men with the guns. If they would only run away. But they wouldn't. They backed off, took my teeth along their flanks with yips of pain, and tried to pierce my thick fur with their own teeth dulled from soft food fed them by humans, but they stood their ground, and the men were coming up fast. I sighed. We had only a few moments left. "They'll be here soon, Edgar." I said. "Try to change back to human form. Maybe we can reason with them." But not like this, the animal won't let you! It's such a simple, but damnable thing. We would die as wolves, Edgar and I, our heads cut off and stuck on poles, or our skins draped across a fence and our bodies tossed onto a dung heap. There were five men coming, all with guns, I could tell. I felt the rage of the cornered animal as they arrived, to spread themselves out in front of us as a fan, Edgar wobbling to his feet and growling at the dogs, but telling me in despair that this was our last day on earth together. And then. How do you describe a miracle? It came to us as a flash of brown wings. An eagle, a big, magnificent eagle was flapping down among us, biting at the men and flailing away at them. They were astonished at this attack, and seemed to be afraid of it, they backed away, shouting and pointing. If I could get my body to change, I would know what they were saying, but a wolf's ear won't translate speech and so it was garble-garble to me. But the men and dogs were backing away, the eagle perching on a low limb and screeching at them, and they put their guns on their shoulders, captured the dogs, and walked away, leaving us alone and unharmed! I calmed my beating heart and looked up at the eagle, its snow-white head, its questing eyes, its glorious wingspread as it idly flapped its wings, getting its feathers all back into place. I wanted to speak to the eagle, if it indeed understood human speech. With the hunters gone, I could change back into a man, and I did, and walked toward the eagle. "Eagle, how can I thank you...for...your...uh?" The eagle was changing before my eyes. Its wings foreshortened, its legs grew, its talons became human toes, so quickly I could only follow pieces of the change, it became a human sitting on the branch, nude, feet dangling over the edge. I worked my way up the lithe, hairless body, up the small chest to the face. "Is this what you wanted to tell me, Phillip?" Kurt asked. "Kurt!" I laughed and ran to embrace him and he jumped to wrap his legs around my waist and let me carry him a while. I didn't care; he had earned it. Laughing and kissing, and Edgar coming up to add his embrace to ours, it was a while before we calmed down enough to talk sense, but at last we sat in a triangle beneath the tree that had nearly been the scene of our last battle, and I said, gasping for breath. "Why didn't you tell me, kid?" "Why didn't you tell me?" Kurt said. "Or was that what you wanted to tell me out in the barn?" I looked at the ground. "I was coming to say good-bye." I said. "Why? Why are you leaving?" Kurt asked. "Isn't it obvious?" Edgar chipped in. I could tell that he was annoyed at Kurt's denseness. "Your kinfolk tries to kill us and you want to know why we thought we should move on?" "And you were going to leave me?" Kurt asked, hurt like broken glass in his eyes. "I didn't want to." I protested. "Damn, kid, you mean a lot to me. But what could I offer you? The life on the road? What kind of life, living with two wolf-men like us?" "And what am I?" "What are you?" Kurt laughed. "Like yourself, but I become an eagle where you become wolves. Would you call me a were-eagle?" "I would call you a friend." Edgar said, reaching over to grasp Kurt by the hand. "And a fellow traveler, if you wish to come with us." I said, adding my hand to the two to make a triangle of fellowship. "We search for others of our own kind, if they exist. Would you like to help us search?". "I would, indeed." Kurt said. "But how shall we, uh, celebrate this new union of ours?" I looked into his impish grin, laughed a hard laugh and drew the two into my embrace, one in each arm, master once again of my life, my destiny, and my pack. THE END For more of my stories, visit my website at: http://www.tommyhawksfantasyworld.com