I had deduced for myself, of course, what the real reason for the string of young, buffed male tenants was. For this reason, I had contemplated and planned what I was going to say if he ever asked me to visit his hot tub. I had noticed him eyeing me when I was doing yard work with my shirt stripped off. And when he did ask me over, I was prepared, although I wondered if the minimalist Speedo I had bought and not yet worn would give too obvious of a signal to him. I had always been curious about that lifestyle.
It was dusk when I walked around my fence and into his yard, with both a T and some shorts on over my Speedo, so as not to arouse the other neighbors, and a big towel draped over my shoulder. My wife had gone the day before, and I had called her shortly before making the trip next door to assure myself she had arrived at a destination a five-hour drive away.
Marty was already in the tub, and his CD player was set on some music that had a real good steady beat to it and at a volume that would not impede discussion in the tub but would keep it to the near vicinity of the tub. The tub itself was quite large, more than eight feet in diameter—and a good thing too, because Marty wasn’t the only one in the tub. Across from him was his most recent tenant, Seth, I think his name was, a big, black handsome dude, with Mulatto features, a massive chest that I could see above the water line, and a blue, intricate tattoo following the curve of his left chest muscle and wrapping up around his left biceps and down his arm to just above his elbow. I must admit that his presence was a little intimidating, but I’d waited for several months in anticipation of a new experience, so I gave him a friendly wave back in answer to the welcoming gestures from both of them.
“Come on in, neighbor,” Marty invited. “The water’s great and is bubbling up just fine. You’ve met Seth, haven’t you?”
“Hi, Seth,” I said. “We haven’t actually met yet,” I said, but I’ve seen you around.”
“And I’ve seen you gardening too,” Seth said with a big, friendly grin. “Strip down and come on in.”
I pulled my T over my head, glad just now that I’d put so much work into my own physic, pulled my shorts down, taking my loafers with them, and stepped down into the tub. The water was warm and swirled around my legs with a pretty forceful pressure.
“Here, over by me,” Marty said. “Here’s a beer.”
I pushed my way over near Marty and took the beer gratefully. I downed a swig to calm myself, hoping that neither Marty nor Seth could see my hand shaking, and settled down on the bench ringing the inside of the tub.
Marty spread his arms around the rim of the tub, and his left arm was draped loosely behind me. We chit chatted for a short while before I took the initiative that I had planned to take. We were talking about the placement of Marty’s hot tub, and I said, “You know, Marty, that I can see your whole tub from my study window. I don’t think it can be seen from anywhere else, but I can see it.”
“Yes, I know,” Marty said. “I’ve sensed that you were up there looking down here on occasion.” There was a short silence, and Marty added, “And I’ll bet you know I don’t bring young men home from the gym because I need the rent money, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I said quietly and took another long swig of beer. “I figured that out some time ago.”
“And that doesn’t bother you, as a neighbor?” Marty asked.
I turned and looked into his baby blue eyes and said, “No, not particularly. Live and let live, I say.”
“So, and still you accepted my invitation to try out my hot tub while your wife was away? Why, might I ask?”
A long swig at the beer. “Curious, I guess,” I answered, “just curious.”
“Have you ever been . . . curious . . . before?”
“No, not actually. No, no . . . never before.” Another nervous swig at the beer. It was beginning to give me a buzz.
“But you’re . . . curious . . . now?”
“Yes, I guess so.”
“Just how curious?”
“Very curious, I guess. I’ve had a long time to think about it.”
With that, Marty moved in until we were touching sides, and the arm he had extended around me wrapped more snuggly and he draped his left hand over my shoulder. His fingers touch my chest lightly, but to me they felt heavy and to be marking a point of no return.
“Curious enough to try a kiss?” Marty asked.
“Yes, I guess so. But I won’t be good at it. As I’ve said, I’ve never done this before.”
His left hand lifted to the side of my head and he turned my face to his. He brought his lips to mine. First a light kiss on the lips, but the one that followed was more firm and he opened my lips with his. He tasted sweet and I hoped I did as well. His right hand went to my lower belly, and I gave a nervous twitch. But he held me there and I settled back down. He pulled his lips away and, in a low voice, said, “I thought that was nice. Are you OK?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “I thought that was nice too.” All of my attention was on that hand on my belly, however. He had moved his index finger to my naval and had pushed it in ever so slightly. He brought his lips back to mine; again a light kiss and then a deeper one. This time he took my lower lip between his and ran his tongue over my lip. My right arm was pretty much pinned against his side, but I instinctively raised my left hand up to cup his head and to hold him to me. His upper lip pushed up, opening my mouth to his tongue. I returned the pressure of the kiss for the first time. I liked this. I had had no idea whether I would, but I did, and I’m afraid that my cock liked it as well. I could feel myself grow. Marty must have known that this should be happening about now, because the hand that was on my belly moved downward and explored the basket of my Speedo until he was able to outline the bulge down there. I first felt him get the measure of my cock, which I was pleased gave him a little shudder, and then he outlined where my balls were. But he returned to my cock and was gently rubbing it.
He broke away from the kiss. “Ah, I can see that you are curious,” he said, “Very nice.”
“Thank you, I guess,” I answered, nervously.
“Yes, very nice, indeed,” he said. While stroking and rubbing below with his right hand, he gently encased his left hand in the hair at the back of my head and pulled my head back. He then buried his lips in my neck, finding an artery pumping blood there. His lips on that artery caused my cock to lurch. He squeezed with his right hand and kept nibbling at my neck, and my cock swelled further.
“Yes, very, very nice indeed,” he mewed. His kisses traveled around to the other side of my neck, and his right hand came back up onto my belly, but only long enough to push under the rim of my Speedo and to gently pull my cock free. I moaned and closed my eyes.
“Here’s where you can feel me too, if you’d like,” Marty instructed. I tentatively moved my free hand to his chest and ran it from nipple to nipple. He had a good chest. I then ran my hand down to his washboard stomach. Very nice shape for his age. Marty’s lips ran through my chest hair and went to my right nipple, where he applied suction. His right hand went down to cup my balls, pulling the Speedo down farther.
“Am I moving too fast for you?” he asked. “Everything still all right?”
“Yes, thanks. That feels nice.”
“Here, let’s get these off,” Marty said, and he raised himself and pushed the Speedo down and off my feet and then flipped it away from the tub. While he was doing this, I looked over at Seth. He had pulled himself up on the edge of the tub and had a beefy mitt wrapped around one of the fattest and blackest—far blacker than his own skin—pricks I’d ever seen. He had a look of languid pleasure in his eyes as he watched Marty perform at our side of the tub.
When Marty came back around, he twisted his torso so we were face to face, chest to chest, and gave me a deep kiss. My right arm went around his back, my hand at his waist, and my left hand slid back down his chest to his belly and then, tentatively on down. I gasped as I realized that he hadn’t been wearing any trunks at all. His pubic hair was thick, but not anywhere near as thick and long as the dong my hand found. I gave out little gasps again, and Marty registered his pleasure with his mouth, as I encased the root lightly in my hand and then slowly explored every inch of his tool.
Marty leaned over, fiddled with something on the rim of the hot tub and came back with a big gob of goo in his hand.
“Lubricant, a special kind,” he whispered in my ear, as his hand went under the water and he started lathering up my cock with it. “But we still have to be fairly quick,” he whispered again, “or the hot water would eventually dry it out and wash it away.” We kissed while he slowly hand pumped me up, the lubricant providing additional pleasurable friction. Within a few minutes I was pretty well pumped up. He swung up and around me, suspended over me with his knees on the bench facing me and me between his legs.
“Here, scoot out on the bench a bit,” Marty directed. I did so, beginning to understand what he had in mind, and feeling a little thrill running through my body. This was what I had been most curious about. Marty’s hand went to my cock, and I felt its head being positioned at his asshole.
“But, but, don’t you need something, too?” I asked.
“Oh, I’m well oiled down there already,” Marty said. “Seth and I got started before you arrived.”
I could feel my cock go into his ass up to the rim of the helmet. Anxiously, I started pushing up.
“Easy, there, big fellow,” Marty said. “And I do mean big fellow. Give us a minute.”
But in far less than that, I felt I was beyond the first tight area, and his sphincter muscle pulled me on in. Marty did a few up and down pumps while he was skewering himself on me, but, in large, it was a quick slide down my pole. It felt tight and bumpy, not at all what I had expected. Marty winked at me and asked, “How do you like my new sleeve? The first half of the channel you just went up has a sleeve with silicon bumps in it, both inside and out, to give your cock and my hole a ride I bet you haven’t gotten from your women. And with that he reached out and grabbed the rim of the hot tub with both hands and I grabbed his hips with both of my hands, and he began pumping up and down, short and long, slow and fast, until we were both panting and I felt like I was going to explode. He was right; I’d never gotten this kind of ride from a woman before, and I’ll have to admit that I’ve been up a few women’s asses. I was about to shoot, when Marty rose off me and plopped down beside me again. He took my cock in his hand and held it still. I tried to hand fuck him to completion, but he held me still until the urge subsided.
“Not yet, good neighbor,” he whispered in my ear. “Too early for your first load.”
After I had calmed down, Marty took another glob of ointment in his right hand and slid it down my belly and along my upper thigh to my crotch. He put the heel of his hand under my balls, made me spread my legs with the pressure from his fingers, and found my asshole with his index finger. He held the tip of the finger on the rim for a moment, but then pushed it and some of the ointment ever slightly into the hole. I flinched and tightened up.
“No? Not yet? Too fast?” he whispered, as he came out of the kiss.
“No.” I said. “Yes, I mean too fast. In fact, I’m not sure . . .”
“Nothing you’re not sure about,” He whispered. “We won’t do anything you’re not sure about until you are sure. Don’t worry.” His hand came back up to my cock. He took the dick helmet in his fingers. I found I had been holding his the same way without quite knowing what else to do with it.
“Here, follow my lead,” he said. He wrapped his hand around my cock and slid it down to the root. I did the same. Applying pressure, he gently, but steady pumped my cock for about a dozen beats. I did the same in rhythm, and both of our cocks grew. He then slid back up to the helmet, and so did I. Taking that in his fingers, he ran his fingers lightly around the rim of the helmet. I did so as well, and we both gave a low moan, although mine perhaps was deeper and more surprised than his. He put his thumb on the slit at the top of the helmet, and I returned the favor. He brought another finger up and squeezed so that that hole opened more. I began to squirm, but Marty remained rock solid—and I mean rock solid. All the time, he had my lips in his and was deep kissing me. I looked at Seth. He was stroking himself with one hand and pinching at the nipples on his gigantic chest with the other.
I pulled away from Marty’s lips and said. “Umm, maybe we’d better cool it a minute again, Marty. This might be getting a little critical with me.”
“Not to worry, neighbor,” Marty answered with a little laugh. “I think you can cum now. You’re a young, virile guy. I’m sure you have reloads if we need them. In fact, I think it’s time for a little change.” With that, he pulled away, knelt beside me on the hot tub seat, put his hands under my butt cheeks and raised me up. To my surprise and somewhat consternation, Seth was there behind me, kneeling with his knees behind my waist, my butt hanging just below the rim of the hot tub, and supporting my back along the incline of his torso. I could feel his huge dick running up my spine, which, I must admit, was not the least pleasurable feeling I’ve ever had. He wrapped his arms around me and placed his hands over my chest, where he did some subtle work on my nipples and chest muscles. From time to time, he buried his face in my neck and gave my arteries there a sensual sucking.
Marty, his knees in the hot tub and on the bench, facing me, was between my legs. His hands were encasing and squeezing my butt cheeks. “Gawd, what a nice butt you have,” he said, with admiration. “And that prick. Get a load of that prick, Seth.” Indeed, I must admit that my cock was very much on display, sticking straight up there in the air.
Marty brought his lips down to my navel, and he kissed and tongued me there, as I squirmed a little and did some sighing and moaning.
“This okay?” he asked.
“Yes, fine,” I answered.
“This okay?” he asked, as he moved his lips farther down and kissed and tongued along my pubic hair line.
“Yes,” I answered weakly. He ran his tongue down along my crotch and around my dick until he got to my balls. He tongued and kissed those. “And this, this OK?” he asked.
“Yes,” I moaned. Then he popped one of my balls into his mouth and extended it out.
“No, no . . . yes,” I volunteered. He took the other testicle in his mouth. He now had one in each cheek. Again he extended them out and down and applied a little sucking pressure.
I couldn’t say anything at this point. I was holding as still as possible and was beginning to pant. Seth ran a hand down across my belly and encased my cock and squeezed.
“Oh, oh,” I moaned. And then, “Yes, oh yes,” as Marty popped my balls out of his mouth and was fed my cock by Seth, who was holding it upright. Marty treated it like a Popsicle briefly, running his tongue down to Seth’s hand and then around to the other side and then up. He took just the helmet in his mouth and ran his tongue over it and around the rim and into the slit and then sucked it. What a sensation. I’d never felt this during sex before. Then he started deep-throating me, first soft and slow strokes and then faster and deeper, with the beat of the music of his CD.
I was writhing under Seth’s bonds, moaning and whimpering, and murmuring that we needed to stop and cool down a bit. It was then that I noticed that Marty had worked his way along and inside my butt cheeks and now had two fingers, one from each hand on the rim of my asshole and slowly pulling the opening apart. I could feel more of the cool ointment.
“No, no, Marty,” I said, as I tried to slap at him with my hands. “Get away from my ass.”
Seth put me in a headlock that threw my arms over my head, but Marty did move his hands higher on my butt cheeks without losing a beat of his pumping action on my cock.
“Oh, oh, I’m going to cum, Marty. Pull off, I can’t hold it much longer.”
“No problem,” Seth whispered in my ear.” Marty can take it. He likes it.” And take it he did, three jolts of wad, down his throat. Then he relaxed and looked up at me with a smile.
“There, that was lovely. You have one of the nicest packages I’ve ever had,” he said. I thought then that Seth would let me go, but he didn’t. What he did do was drag me farther out of the hot tub, so that my butt was on the rim. I could barely reach the seat with my feet.
Marty rose up on his knees and said, “What I can’t understand is your fear for your ass. All I want to do is what a doctor can do. Didn’t you know the prostate was the men’s G-spot? All you heteros don’t know the pleasure you are missing. It’s just a little ways in; I just want to show you what a pleasure a prostrate massage can be.”
“I . . . I don’t know,” I answered uncertainly.
“You came for adventure, didn’t you?” Marty asked. “Why leave without knowing just how much pleasure you even could be getting with your wife. She could be doing this just as easily as I can. But obviously she hasn’t been. You’ve been missing out. I’ll bet you make sure you service her G-spot.”
Again, “I just don’t know.”
“Well, let me start and you can always let me know when to stop. I’ve done that before, haven’t I?”
“Well, I suppose.” I couldn’t think of a better answer. And without waiting for a further answer, Marty pushed my legs apart and was lightly kissing my asshole. It did feel pleasurable. Seth lowered my arms again and again wrapped his hands around my chest and played in my chest hair and with my nipples. I turned my head and we kissed. His lips were bigger than Marty’s had been, and his kiss was more bruising and insistent, but the taste was just as sweet. I could feel his hot sausage-like prick on my back, and I snaked my hands behind me in search of it. Seth lowered his shoulders to take the weight off mine and pushed my torso up so that I could reach his rod with both of my hands. I wrapped my hands around it covered from top to bottom without the hands overlapping.
“Raise your legs when I push them up,” Marty commanded in a husky voice. I did so, and he got his hands where my thighs met my buttocks and push my legs apart. He had his fingers dug into my butt cheeks and he used them to pull them apart to give maximum approach to my asshole. He kissed my puckering hole again and rimmed me with his wet tongue. It felt strange but tingly. I felt his tongue enter my channel and I gave a little gasp.
“Okay, so far?” he asked. I broke away from the kiss with Seth to give a hesitant affirmative response.
“This will feel cold, but it will make it more comfortable for my finger to reach the proper position,” he said reassuringly. With that, he draped my left leg over his shoulder and came up with another large dab of ointment. This time I felt the cool moisture pushed farther into my asshole than he had done earlier. Marty spent some time working this in, and I could feel my asshole loosen up and expand.
“My, my, my,” I heard him cluck.
“What?” I asked.
“Oh, just my, my, my. This is going to be better than I hoped.” Not bothering to pursue that point farther, I relaxed a bit under his ministrations to the point that I no more than flinched when I felt a finger at the rim and tentatively push up to the first knuckle into the hole.
“There, does that hurt?” Marty asked.
“N-o-o,” I said with an edge of doubt in my voice. “Huh,” I said with a gulp, as I felt the finger push further in. I felt my sphincter muscle catch it and draw it even further in. And then I felt the pad of the finger on my prostate. Marty could feel he’d found the spot to, even though I gave him notice by flinching and giving a little gasp. Marty applied gentle pressure and began to rub.
“Here, this will take a few minutes,” Marty said. Seth pushed the full length of his torso into me again, trapped my hands between him and me and slid his right hand down to my cock again. As Marty rubbed, I felt almost as if I had to piss, and I could feel a few dabs of cum involuntarily dribble up and out of my cock, but, oh what a sensual and relaxing feeling it was. I almost thought I’d begin to purr. I’m glad I found out about this. Seth rubbed the precum around my cock with his finger. He had propped me up so I could look down the whole length of my body and see him playing with my cock and Marty there between my legs. The pleasure from watching what was going on and the pressure on my prostate began to grow, and along with it my cock began to engorge again.
And then Marty’s finger was out of my hole and he standing on the floor of the hot tub. I could see his erect phallus, and it was leaning its way in, toward my butt.
My intense pleasure flipped to fear, “No! I half yelled. No, I don’t want . . .” My voice was muffled by Seth’s big mitt coming up and covering my mouth.
“Hey, you came to find out what this is all about. This is part of what this is all about,” Marty said with a husky voice. “You came here. Who are you going to complain to? Who in the neighborhood wants to know what you are a part of now? Your wife maybe? Don’t worry; I’ll make it a good experience. No, I’ll make it a great experience; I can tell from your reaction that it’s already gone beyond a good experience. And your hole has opened up incredibly. I’ve never seen this happen the first time. I bet you could take me and Seth both.” I moaned and writhed at the thought. I didn’t want to admit that I’d played dildo games with my women partners for years.
He still had my left leg over his shoulder, so he lathered up his dick with ointment and positioned its head up against my asshole with his right hand and pushed in just enough to get the helmet in and to have purchased. Then he grabbed both of my legs at the ankles and split me up and out like a wishbone. I saw him slowly entering me and began to buck, which only increased the pain, so I stopped. What I didn’t want to admit, even to myself, was that this felt a whole lot better than the dildos I’d taken up there. Marty held still, while Seth reached over and turned up the music and did a quick turnaround on me. He had my hands by the wrists and was kneeling with my chest between his knees.
“You can scream if you want,” he told me. “But I’m going to get rough if you do. And I’m going to get rough if you don’t pay some attention to me now. There was little doubt what attention Seth had in mind. From where he was positioned, the moist head of his long dong was touching my cheek.
“Seth’s right,” Marty said from below me. “I can either give this to you within your tolerances, or I can give it to you really hard. If you service Seth, I’ll be as gentle as possible.”
“Go to hell,” I screamed. I had barely gotten this out, though, when Marty pushed a good five inches up my ass in one slide. I thought I was going to be ripped apart.
“What was that you said?” Marty asked.
I didn’t answer, but I opened my mouth and turned it toward Seth’s dick and took the bulbous head in. I licked and sucked, and Seth gave little whimpers of pleasure. “Get your tongue under it,” he said, and I complied. He entered me about three inches and I thought I’d gag. “Don’t think gag,” he directed. “Lift your chin to give it a straight shot and push your tongue and under it as far as it can go. And open wide, very wide. Loosen your jawbone. You can do it.” I did so, and he slid in a little farther. Then me began to slowly pump in and out, fucking my face but not trying to give me more than I could manage.
Meanwhile, down below, Marty had reached my prostate again with his cock and he was rubbing up against that and giving me a not-unpleasurable sensation. He hadn’t been doing more than slowly working his way in at this point, holding for me to stretch to be able to accommodate him. After he had gotten past the sphincter, I no longer felt great pain and the sensation of being stuffed beyond limits, and shortly I could feel I had loosened and relaxed and a felt the whole length of him glide on in. I could feel his pubic hair mashing down on mine.
“There,” he grunted,” you did it. You did fine. You’ve got one sweet, big ass channel.” He didn’t do any pumping at that point, but he did move his pelvis around, rotating his cock inside me. My prostate liked that just fine, and it served to loosen and widen the canal some more. He came back up on the hot tub seat with his knees, so that now me was hunched over me. He pushed my legs down toward the deck at an almost impossible angle, so that now we was hovering over me, with his ramrod almost on the vertical.
It was then that Seth jerked out of me with a grunt and spurted cum all over my chest, and as that happened, Marty began his pumping action in my ass. In and out, short strokes and then long strokes. Wiggling his pelvis and rotating his dick around, stretching and filling me. Seth changed positions again, without me being able to escape. He turned around on me, putting my head firmly between his knees and kneeling there. His hands went to my dick and my balls. He played with the balls for a while and then got hold of the cock and started stroking and pumping it. He and Marty did some kissing without letting it interfere with their other activities. And then I felt lips on the tip of my cock, and Seth took me on to the root in one slide, showing me that, indeed, it could be done. In turn, I showed him I wasn’t taking any of this passively. I pulled his butt cheeks apart and started tonguing and rimming his asshole. I then fisted a hand and started pushing the knuckles at his hole, and, to my surprise, they started working their way in. Seth’s only response was to wiggle his ass in pleasure, which I increased by taking his dick in my other hand and starting to milk him.
Marty, Seth, and I came at just about the same time, and, with a combined scream of release, followed by a sigh of relief we all were back in the hot tub, soaking away body fluids. I wasn’t really in any condition to look where I was going, however, because when I went to sit down on the hot tub ledge, Seth was under me. I struggled and objected, but he had only of those beefy arms around me and the other was on his dong, which he guided to my newly plowed asshole as I came down. I managed to stop, at first, when helmet of his cock was just at my entrance. But Seth held me there steadfastly and slowly, ever so slowly, my leg muscles gave way and I descended down his gigantic tool, feeling every inch in both length and diameter as I was skewered until my butt was nestled up against his upper thighs. I panted and moaned, while Seth clucked sweet nothings in my ear and nibbled at my neck.
“Oh, Gawd, no, Seth. You’re too big. Let me go,” I whined.
“You’ve already taken me in, Glen. From here, just take it and enjoy it. You now know there isn’t anyone you can’t take. I’m ten inches long and mighty thick, Glen. There aren’t many bigger than that. Just relax. That ointment we used is good stuff, and, as Marty said, you’ve got one incredible ass canal.”
When I had stopped panting and groaning, Seth pulled my knees up and into my chest and began gently rocking from front to back. His rock-hard, yet flexible dong was rubbing my prostate and other nooks and crannies up my ass channel in a way that gave me a whole new sensation, and I found that I could accommodate him without pain now. I was lulled into a sense of relaxation, but the two weren’t finished with me yet.
I had about dozed off in exhaustion, when I felt Seth standing up. He still had me folded into his chest by the knees, and he bore my weight as if I were a rag doll. He didn’t go far, however, he just moved up to where he was perched on the rim of the hot tub. That’s when Marty came back into view. Seth leaned back so that my butt was lifted in the air and there Marty was, with more ointment, and spreading it around my now-occupied asshole. I don’t know how he was doing it, but he was managing to get a few fingers into the hole above Seth’s buried dong.
“What are you doing?” I cried. “Oh, no, not that.”
“Such a sweet hole and channel, Glen,” Marty cooed. “And so flexible. It opened right up. More than I thought possible for a first time. Have you and your wife been playing rear-entry games? Don’t do anything rash, Glen. Just hold very still there, for me . . . and for your sake.”
And then he did it. I felt the head of his cock at my hole above Seth’s rod and slowly, ever so slowly, he was entering me as well. He was half way in when he slowly pulled out again and then in, a little farther than the first time, and then slowly out and slowly back in. Seth was giving little yelps of pleasure at the friction Marty was bringing to bear on his buried cock between kisses he was enjoying with Marty. His cock began to do some involuntary pumping as well. I passed out before they were finished.
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I had been told that the assignment was a bit kinky, but a weekend stopover in Hawaii and three days on my own in Tokyo, paid for by the generous fee addition, were enough for me not to care. My pimp, Leon, told me to make myself blond all over, which I had grown used to in any assignment sending me to the Orient. And I was a bit intrigued because I was told up front that the client was Matsu
I was going back from throwing some hoops with the guys one afternoon when I decided to drop in on Charlie and see how he was doing. He was a little high strung and had been having trouble with his latest live in of late. Denny was a real cocky asshole, so sure of himself and going directly for what he wanted—and usually getting it—and taking advantage of everyone along the way. And he was messy.
“A candidate for the Bermuda Triangle, might you say?” Dean said to Penn across the cocktail table. They were sitting at a window of the Splendor Lounge on the Champion of the Sea mega tourist ship on the first full night of its sail from Baltimore to Bermuda.The two, both members of the ship’s dance troupe were looking over a thirtiesh blond, well-formed, and obviously well-heeled hunk
I had been holding up the bar in the smoky lounge for more than a half hour, and Nick hadn’t shown. Felt pretty sorry for myself. That had been my story with my encounters with Nick: fuck ’em and leave ’em. I didn’t really want to play that game anymore, but here I sat, waiting for Nick. I had waved off several guys in obvious search of a pickup when the mystery man appeared at my elbow. As time
\Ham couldn’t sleep, and he thought he heard a noise from downstairs. Probably only one of the many ghosts haunting this old, rotting mansion, he thought. But, still, he was fully awake now. He rose off the cot he’d set up in his room until after everything was packed out and padded down the stairs into the music room. He was barefoot, only wearing his muslin sleeper pants. In twenty-four hours
Jacques, the young comte de la Arbois, nearly fell off his horse, both steed and rider trembling from exhaustion, into the arms of the innkeeper of the small village of Saint-Avold, a hard half-day's ride west of Metz. "A fresh horse," Jacques muttered feverishly through swollen lips. "We have such a horse for you," the innkeeper exclaimed. "But you are in no condition to ride on, young
I could not have been in any steamier place or time for my sexual awakening. Bangkok, Thailand, in the eighties was sin city extraordinaire. Anything went there; everything was tolerated. It was a mai bin rai (“nevermind; whatever, it’s OK”) place and everything was not only tolerated, but it also was on offer—and almost always for free or at a very good price. And it was an innocent time. The
I was only in for thirty days, and then not because of something I’d actually done. My buddy Phil had left drugs in my car, and the cops found them when they stopped me because I was driving a little too fast when I pulled away from a country beer hall they were staking out. I should have known better. I was only nineteen, and I shouldn’t have been in that beer hall at all, let alone drinking.
I was only in for thirty days, and then not because of something I’d actually done. My buddy Phil had left drugs in my car, and the cops found them when they stopped me because I was driving a little too fast when I pulled away from a country beer hall they were staking out. I should have known better. I was only nineteen, and I shouldn’t have been in that beer hall at all, let alone drinking.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to go through with this.”But, who was I kidding. Julio’s choices had been shut down that first night—the night I’d found him supposedly by chance, but with chance having nothing to do about it. He’d been had even before I approached him at the Noobai Café, the discreet little gay hookup bar in the Restele district of Lisbon, not far from the Cuban consulate.
After two years in the male-male paradise of Bangkok, a short assignment to Okinawa, Japan, seemed, for most of my tour, like entering a monastery. I was supposed to rotate directly back to the States with my SR71 supersonic photoreconnaissance unit, but the North Koreans were acting up on the DMZ, and the government wanted an intense look-see at whether or not they were building their troop
The riverboat hit a log, or something, on the hull right at my head, and I woke with a start. The first sensation in the soft, wavering light of a single lantern hung by the doorway was the sound of the drums and low chanting from somewhere above. The driver and cook at it again. The sound was monotonous and comforting all at the same time. It also seemed to be richer than before, almost
Tight, hard and hairless bodies with creamy thighs, resilient flesh on muscles of steel; and flexibility; flexibility is a must. I insist on that; and obedience and total subservience. And I possess them all. I fuck them all, women and men alike. I fuck them all regularly, without showing favor. That’s the only way to keep order. And they stand in line, audition for the privilege of being
I am Darien, magician to the D’Ibelins; son of Jared, magician to the D’Ibelins before me; and grandson of Deter, magician to the kings of the Aquitaine. Can anyone deny my powers after the Horns of Hattin? But, no, no one but me knows of what really happened there in miracle of the stronghold of Belvoir. And that, perhaps, is as it should be. But as I glide across the sky, I look at that brand
[Author’s Note: When the Philippe LeCroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation,” “Natchez Refreshment.” “Biloxi Renewal,” “Reconnected Recovery,” “Theatrical Revival,” “Sailing Back into Life,” “Harvesting in the Park,” “Garden District Plunge,” “Dangerous Experiment,” “Dueling Regeneration”] Philippe had just been renewed, and he was
As we strapped ourselves in across from each other, knee to knee in the sleek corporate jet, I was wondering why CJ had picked me to fly out to the coast to try to close this business deal. I was pretty new to the company and no where near to having the seniority to be included on this trip. But I wasn’t complaining. A week in California and time to get to know the vice president of sales better
We got into L.A. that night and CJ and I went straight to the hotel. I was exhausted after my in-flight service training. CJ had booked a suite with two separate bedrooms, so I went to my room after dinner, showered, and went straight to bed. I was laying there on the wide bed, on my back, staring at the ceiling and just about asleep, when CJ crept into the room, came up on the bed and sat on my
When I had cleaned up and returned, I found that CJ had wiped himself off with a washcloth that Binggum had conveniently previously located in a bowl on the coffee table and was stuffing and buttoning his sausage back into his red-silk pouch. Binggum was stretched out on full the sofa, another wash cloth lying near him on the floor, probably used with a gentle touch by CJ in the most
I often did things backwards in life. The old Hollywood adage goes that many a starlet—and we can add many a leading man, now that the cat is out of the closet on that—got their film career break by the audition they did on the director's or producer's couch. In my case, however, I got the part before the director had me taking direction under him on his couch. I had been a child actor on
Angelo had been so tense through his set at the café this evening, that he was afraid that it could be heard in his voice or in a change in how he coaxed the music out of the strings of his guitar. But those sitting around a smoking and drinking long after the food service had been shut down didn’t seem to have reacted any differently than before, with just those exceptions. Although all of the
(Suckered into betting against the double penetration myth) I should have known the sneaky Dutchman had all the angles figured when he suckered us into betting against a myth in the Men Only back room at Cowboy's Bar in Bangkok's Patpong district. He waited until the third revolution of the happy hour clock—when we were all soused and sluggish—and entered with a boy-built Thai. I recognized
[Author’s Note: This story completes the Philippe LeCroix series, which is best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation,” “Natchez Refreshment.” “Biloxi Renewal,” “Reconnected Recovery,” “Theatrical Revival,” “Sailing Back into Life,” “Harvesting in the Park,” “Garden District Plunge,” “Dangerous Experiment,” “Dueling Regeneration”] Philippe LeCroix, with his new chauffeur,
I was nearing the end of the fourth group lesson on self-defense techniques at the store-front gym under the instruction of a heavily muscled Egyptian wrestler named Anwar, when he took me aside and, after telling me he thought I’d make a natural wrestler, asked me if I’d like to stay after class and have him demonstrate some holds to me. I had admired his massive build—a bodybuilder’s barrel
Ad placed by Andre (9 slender inches) and Mike (8 thick inches) in the local weekly newspaper: - - - - Power Drills: GBM’s, Strong, hard, silent eight- and nine-inch power drills seek tight BWM or SWM who seeks filled fantasy experience for multiple drill role play says-no-but-wants-yes bottom. Call Mike at 945-6036. - - - - Ad Rob saw instead in the local weekly newspaper and decided
“But I don’t understand how you can just stand here, out on this beach, and declare that Jason Dunn has run away with his college football offensive team coach and lost his virginity, Doctor Klein. The Dunn’s paid us to find their son, and I very much doubt they will be amused with the elaborate and very offensive story you’ve come up with by way of explanation.” “It’s elementary, Snidely. And
I waited until we'd almost reached Miami's airport, but I couldn't leave it here.
We live in a university town, my wife and I, and we live in a neighborhood within five blocks of the edge of that university. It’s an affluent neighborhood, built on heavily wooded, well-manicured lots on the side of a ridge, with narrow streets running up and down and twisting here and there. Almost like the country, but a wealthy enclave right in the small city. Quite staid we are. Not ones for
“How about I treat you to a drink? You must be thirsty from all that naked time on the platform.”I had just climbed down from the velvet-covered bench on the platform where I’d been posing, in the nude, for the past hour for Chad Simmons’s Savannah College of Art and Design night school art class. I’d barely had time to shrug my white cotton dress shirt over my shoulders. That didn’t stop the
I’m not sure why I went to Club 216 that night. I’d joined months before but had gone only rarely. Joining put me on their e-mail list, though, and I kept seeing announcements go by of their semiannual beauty contest. It didn’t pay much attention to it—or at least I didn’t think I had—but that Saturday night found me there, just a couple of table rows away from the stage. I was by myself at the
When I left Bangkok, Thailand, the first time, I originally thought I'd be returning to a world that was almost completely straight and that my days of enjoying a rich and active bi lifestyle were over. My work with the government, with its strong homophobic policies, just didn't seem to leave that avenue safely open to me. And for a couple of years, when I was assigned to Washington, D.C., and
I had always thought that about the only thing you could do on a pool table was play pool, but the Taylor brothers went to great length and depth to teach me otherwise. I’d met the three brothers on the beach at Pataya, Thailand. Their family owned a hotel construction company and was making money hand over fist in throwing up fancy hotels in downtown Bangkok and at the Pataya and Hua Hin
My first, memorable threesome was in that fancy gym in Bangkok where I had recently met who I called my Indian magician, who had seduced and initiated me. And the threesome was orchestrated by that Indian diplomat as well. He had been eyeing a military attaché from the Israeli embassy on the exercise floor—a man pushing his forties, built close to the ground but with long arms, almost simian in
My first time for a lot of things came within a three-week period. I was a young Air Force pilot, living in Bangkok, Thailand, and flying the SR71 photoreconnaissance airplane. I was as virginal as they came before arriving in Bangkok. Sports through school and Air Force training and heavy workouts pretty much had taken all of my time and energy. I was about as Mom, apple pie, and country first
I stepped back from the sidewalk, hugging my arms close to my sides, and leaned back on the wall at the corner into the alley, raising one leg, knee bent, and my cowboy booted foot flat against the wall. The hole in the sole of that boot was worn clean through and the cold of the wall wasn’t as cold as that of the sidewalk pavement. Besides, it was a good pose for the purpose. While still
[Author’s Note: When the Philippe LeCroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation,” “Natchez Refreshment,” “Biloxi Renewal,” “Reconnected Recovery,” “Theatrical Revival,” “Sailing Back into Life,” “Harvesting in the Park,” “Garden District Plunge,” “Dangerous Experiment,” “Dueling Regeneration”] Philippe watched them from the shadows in
The next day was my next tennis date with Ben. As I had thought and hoped for, after we’d played and I’d beaten him for the first time, I learned that he was in bad condition again and needed help. We both took showers, and he started back for the massage room, but I stopped him, telling him I had found a better place for him to get relief. We hurriedly both put gym shorts and T-shirts on, and I
It was the first month of my graduate school, and it was my turn for the “introductory” evening with my Logic professor, Paul Hollings. When I’d asked someone who’d taken his class the previous year what the proper attire for such an event was, he had just given me a lopsided grin and said, “For a handsome guy like you? I’d suggest very bulky clothes.” He hadn’t elaborated, but I probably
Although I had several white bandana encounters that week in which all a stranger needed to do to get submissive sex from me was to ask for my bandana, none were as strange as the one I had while I was on my way to play tennis with Ben the first time. I was strolling along, racket case under my arm, when a big black limousine, with smoked windows rolled up beside me, the driver’s window rolled
My next team punch event day was more memorable for being the day of the double massage than for my losing a wrestling match and getting fucked. I lost the match, of course. This time to Greg, who was perverse enough to make me swing both my arms and legs over the parallel bars and then got on a bench under me and fucked me first from the front, my ass tipped up and then from the back, my ass
I still felt better about the possibilities of taking control the next evening, which may be why I took that ticket the doped up rocker had given me and attended his concert. His band really was quite good. He had a large crowd in the university’s soccer stadium and it was even filmed for national sale as a video. The rocker who had fucked me had a great, raspy, character-laden voice and he
At my next tennis match with Ben, he allowed as how he wasn’t in nearly the same painfully hard condition that he had been when we’d done the prostate procedure, but he did show a bit too much eagerness to repeat the massage that day if I thought it was advisable. I wanted him at full staff for presentation to the coach, so I asked him if he could hold off until our next practice match, to which
Coach Seeman had told all of the wrestlers that they could come over and use his swimming pool at any time, and I was so sore and strung out later that afternoon that I took him up on the offer. I knew there was a wrestling meet during that time and figured that Seeman and the real wrestlers would be busy with that and that I’d have the pool to myself. I did, in fact, have the pool to myself
I trudged back to the dorm from having been raped by my Logic professor, feeling very down and very sore, hoping that no one would ever learn about my humiliation; angry at the professor, not knowing how I was going to be able to sit in his class in front of him now. Worried about whether and what demands he might make on me for the rest of the semester. I wasn’t that way. I didn’t want to be
I had been sexually assaulted by three men within my first week at school. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. I let it go for several days and then, when I was on my way to throw some hoops at the gym, I just snapped and found myself seeking out the dean of men students. I didn’t know if I could get a walk-in appointment with him, but I felt like I needed to talk to someone about
It had been three days since I had been raped four times within two days, and I was hiding out. I had taken a by-week apartment made over from a motel not too far from the campus, dropped the logic class, and kept as low a profile as I could. I’d found the former motel too noisy to study in, so I was camped out in a small overgrown park nearby, where I was studying on an old picnic table. I
I’d had enough of these repeated sexual assaults; being used like this. The next day, I packed my car and headed for home. No more than three miles beyond the campus gate, though, I heard a police siren and was pulled over to the side of the road. I sat in the car, wondering what I had done wrong, as a policeman strutted around and took a look at both license plates, all the time swishing a
Coach Seeman delivered me to Nate’s door, ravished and still in handcuffs, which had been moved so that my arms were in front of me, and with my jeans barely covering me. When Nate answered the door, he was wearing only his briefs. As the dorm counselor, he had an actual one-bedroom apartment, including separate bedroom, a kitchenette, and a bath—which made me wonder why he showered in the common
I stayed with Nate for the next two weeks, taking in my regular classes in the afternoon and spending most of the mornings learning the fundamentals of wrestling from Nate and Greg in a small room off the main wrestling gym while the coach’s regular “Greek Wrestling” class went on in the main wrestling gym. I thought I was getting the hang of it until I was called in for what coach termed one of
Later that afternoon I got my first glimpse of my possible ticket out of this “team punch” hell. I went to class and the professor, who was also my faculty advisor, asked me to come see her in her office after her next class. When I appeared there, she wasn’t alone. A young student was sitting and chatting with her. I took to him immediately. He was perhaps the most handsome youth I’d ever seen;
My next team punch event defeat wasn’t too taxing. I was getting steeled to these attacks on my body. The winner was one of those lean, mean Marines, without an ounce of fat on a very efficient body and a shaved haircut. Not much to brag about in the below-the-belt category, which probably is why I’d seen him hang out with one of the bantam-weight wrestlers, a willowy, but obviously strong,
The exhaustion of and loss of strength from the previous day’s unexpected sex encounters may have accounted for my tennis match the next day, but it’s just as likely that Ben was just a much better tennis player than I was. He agreed to let me try to recoup the loss and set up another match for two days hence. As I had hoped, we were the only ones in the graduate gym shower room when we went in
I had been summoned to the medical suite at my office at the end of the Friday dayshift of my second week on the job, and I showed up with a great sense of trepidation. It had been hard finding this job, and I just had to keep it. But I’d scored drugs for a short time when I’d been in college, and I knew this company had a strict drug policy. I hoped that they hadn’t found out about that—or that
“I really do worry about you. When did you eat last?”“Please, please, don’t stop,” Marc whimpered between pants. “Finish me, please. Don’t make me wait.”“Now you want it,” the dance master laughed. “We’ll see how badly you want it.”The two young men were lying on a pile of old costumes in the dark corner of the back of the stage behind the wings. The dance master, Patrick Moran, only
“Are you sure this is the address?” Lars Krieger asked, as the hotel car stopped in front of a massive, carved-wood, two-panel door in an otherwise blank concrete wall on Bangkok’s Soi 51 Sukhumvit. The road was narrow, almost an alley, it seemed, to the young German engineer, with one, long stuccoed wall running down its full length on each side with doors like this and wider garage doors at
[Author’s Note: When the Philippe LeCroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation” “Natchez Refreshment” “Biloxi Renewal” “Reconnected Recovery” “Theatrical Revival” “Sailing Back into Life” “Harvesting in the Park” “Garden District Plunge” “Dangerous Experiment” “Dueling Regeneration”] Philippe had found this one particularly
If the CEO of my company hadn’t seen me recently in that gay bar over on 12th and Madison, I don’t know how long it would have taken me to get invited to the executive floor. But Pete Peterson had seen me, and there I was, in his conference room, sitting in a second-row position in the weekly executive meeting. I’d been surprised, but pleasantly so, to see Peterson in the bar. He was one of
If I didn’t get a good fuck in before tomorrow evening, Tonya and I would be out of the medals for sure. We’d come to the Paris Grand Prix with good hopes of standing on the platform, but my timing was all off in the twists and throws we’d attempted in our practice session tonight, and I knew it was because I was so jittery from not getting my rocks off since we’d been at Skate Canada a couple of
I had had my eye on Aleksey since the skating season began. He was the new partner for Tonya in the ice pairs division, and he was sheer sex on ice. He was all dark, brooding good looks; muscle and power and with curly black hair on his arms and legs and swirling around his pecs and diving in a wide path down into his leotard. He wore his jet black hair long, in a pony tail, with a few strands
Momma, please. I won’t talk back anymore. Let me out of the closet, Momma. Or turn on a light. You know how scared I am of the dark. Don’t leave me here in the dark, Momma. Please. Please Momma. Momma? Momma?* * * *Brandon leaned over the low, padded cubicle wall and winked at Colleen and told her she was looking mighty fine today. Then, as he turned and moved down the corridor between
I'll always remember the Israeli by the image of him standing there at the window of the Oriental Hotel room, the strong Bangkok sun bathing his body in afternoon light—that and by the cockiness with which he took control. The Israeli army officer, a military attaché at his country's embassy in Thailand, had just two weeks earlier been part of my first threesome. He had seen me working out in
“Open to me. Open to daddy.” And I spread my legs for him. Before he pushed me back gently onto the thick carpet on the moss covering the little sun-spackled glen, he had me kneel before him and take his beautiful, huge cock into my mouth, where I worked it up to over ten inches of hardness to the sounds of the birds twittering in the trees and the jogger emitting little sighs and moans of
If the kitchen of Kasem’s family in the upcountry jungle of Thailand hadn’t burnt to the ground, I possibly never would have found out what the special Bangkok sports massage was all about. Kasem was my masseur at a fancy Bangkok gym, which was open for “men only” a couple of nights a week and which was a major pickup place for prime cuts of male meat. Of course, when I’d started going to the
Lattimore stopped at corner of the cookhouse as he was crossing from the main house of his ranch outside Laramie, Wyoming, to the corral to train the quarter horse he’d bought on the last cattle drive to Omaha. He leaned on a fence and watched young Kit chopping wood. The young man was stripped to the waist while he chopped.Bulking up real good, Lattimore thought. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad
I had been going to Gabe and Steve’s Gym for a couple of months, and I was quite pleased with the results. I could tell that Gabe and Steve were pleased too, as they’d both been giving me the eye when I was in the shower. I didn’t mind all that much; it was a free world and looks didn’t cost me anything—or so I thought at the time. I knew that Gabe and Steve were a couple, but that didn’t mean
All sorts of expatriate “characters” gravitated to Bangkok, Thailand, in the seventies and eighties, and none were more colorful than the man known simply as Cowboy. Cowboy was a six-and-a-half foot black American stud, who was said to have been a pro basketball player of some note who had retreated to Bangkok in the face of possible charges for point shaving and racketeering. In Bangkok, Cowboy
As I walked into the city on the main street, Damrak, leading directly from Amsterdam's central train station, I nervously fingered the folded e-mail I'd been carrying tucked in my wallet for the past month and a half. Damrak changed into Rokin, and at the end of canal off the Amstel River, I made a right onto Heiligeweg. I had thought of this possibility on and off for the whole cruise down
It wasn’t a regular day of practice; only Hank and I had come in, and we’d worked out in the gym after we’d done laps on the field. I could tell he was steamed about something, but I didn’t ask about what. He had finished first, and it looked like I had the locker room to myself when I came in from the gym. I took a quick shower and pulled on my briefs and some baggy shorts and an athletic T, and
“What’s for dinner? Lamb chops, I hope. You do those so well.”“Of course, if that’s what you want, Ely. If that’s what you want, than that’s what we’ll have.”He’s got no taste buds left, I think. What does he care if it’s lamb, pork, or shit? Note to self—while I try to keep my voice from having the sarcastic edge Ely had complained about of late. Of course we don’t have any lamb chops in
The reports of the week were winding down, and I looked around the table, only half conscious of what was being reported. The three older guys at the table would take care of all that for me. I was sizing up all of the young and beautiful people I’d stocked the board with. The power to do this was the joy of heading a robust family business; I could stock the board with the pick of the crop, and
Is this the very café table where we sat? Yes, I think it is. In fact, I’m sure it is. It’s as if time has stood still. The café is just as it was nearly thirty years ago—or at least I don’t remember anything as different. It’s hard to believe that as much as London has changed over the last twenty years, Norwich might not have changed at all. Or so it seems. And so I want it to be. I don’t want
He had become obsessed with me. The party was large and boisterous and our eyes had met across the room and he gave me a brilliant smile. A short time later, he’d sat down beside me with people swirling all around us and had put his hand on my thigh and had given me that brilliant smile again. I tipped my glass to show I needed a refill and glided away from him, not wanting to make a scene. Not
The cyclist was racing along the top of the Mississippi levee, anxious to get back into Natchez before the rains hit. Sweating profusely in the humidity and under the blazing sun, he had stripped his jersey off and wrapped it around the handlebars of the bike. It was almost dusk now, however, and the storm clouds were rumbling in. He felt chilled and tried to free the jersey from the handlebars
Dutch came first. It was a particularly busy and boisterous night in the Dick Hut, tucked in the back shadows of an alley off the Nuuanu Stream in the heart of Honolulu's red light district. The sign over the door actually said
My wife was off to see her mother, and for the first time since he’d gotten it, my neighbor, Marty, had invited me for an evening in the hot tub he had put in. His house backed onto my side yard, and he’d done a whole lot of nice renovation on his property since he had moved in. Marty was divorced and probably was in his early fifties, judging from his graying hair, but he had kept himself quite
Jerome stood just inside the doorway at the shadowed end of the room. He should have just turned and gone down the stairs and out to the carriage to tell Thomas that Master John wasn’t ready to go yet. That’s all Thomas, Master John’s carriage driver, had told him to do. But the shock of what he’d found when he’d entered the house on Decatur Street and been waved to the second door down the hall
I was there for three nights in the basement strip club on Dauphine Street in the French Quarter, always sitting at the same table. I had picked him out on the first night—a lithe but well-muscled, dark Greek, displaying a mixture of danger and sassiness; much more into what he was doing than any of the other performers. His act was black leather. Studded-leather harness crisscrossing his chest,
There were four of them who entered the store close to closing time, all muscled punks decked out in black leather. I owned the small convenience store but found myself behind the counter this evening because my regular night clerk called in sick. The hunkiest of the four came up to the counter and puckered his lips and gave me a air kiss. He asked me where Jake, my regular evening clerk, was.
One of the saddest—and most ironic—casualties of the internecine Greek-Turkish war on Cyprus that divided the island into warring camps three decades ago was the once-famous and elegant Ledra Palace Hotel. The Treaty Room of the Ledra Palace, a hulking stone edifice in the Moorish style, had been the venue where the British secretly committed the crime of slicing up the Arabian Peninsula and
It was all happening so fast. I didn’t even have time to feel panic. I just felt a dullness and a foreboding—and a creeping sense of being trapped in a web of some sort. No, more like a cocoon, the sticky thread winding around and around me. Smothering me.“Just a few minutes, Dr. Winthrop, and you can go back to your room. I know this has been a shock to you. We have just a few more questions
In more recent years I look back on my mid-1970s (and then again early 1980s) Bangkok adventure and just shake my head, wondering what we were thinking we were doing then and how shallow we must have been to be so totally focused on beautiful bodies and the striving for perpetual orgasm.I think that for most of those I played with for two-and-a-half years in the 1970s, the hedonist urges
It was a hot day, and I was out doing my laps in the pool when the roofers arrived. They had started the previous afternoon, just diddling around and getting their supplies where they wanted them. The older of the two was a well-turned-out, chiseled-featured, and solidly built dude, probably in his early forties, with prematurely graying dark hair. He looked like he’d taken real good care of
I had never tried to seduce another guy before, but Dale was just there at the right time and place. We were both runners—he because he was on the college football team and running up and down the Pine Mountain trail helped keep him in shape and I because I wasn’t that long out of college myself and I was doing the best I could to keep my fine form in shape. We had passed each other a couple
“And a ten-inch cock.”“You’re shitting us now,” Oliver said.“Yes, I’m shitting you,” Porter answered. “But, really, I would want him to have a nice cock on him.”“Well, high on my list is that he has to be willing to take out the trash without being asked to,” Adrian interjected.“And put the toilet seat down too?” someone asked. They all laughed.“No, thank god,” Adrian answered
I saw him from a good distance away, walking down the highway in the direction I was driving shortly after a big cloverleaf marking the intersection of two major highways. He hardly looked like an experienced hitchhiker, but that was exactly what he seemed to be doing. Not only was hitchhiking illegal on a highway like this, but I also couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a hitchhiker on the
“First the tide rushes in, plants a kiss on the shore . . .”Matt often started a set with something quiet and slow, like “Ebb Tide,” when there was a convention or two in the hotel, like there was today—electricians and bankers. What a combination. Something quiet tended to settle and quiet them down to the point that he could stand it.It wasn’t a question of being a prima donna and
I think I just might be the best peach picker in Virginia. Well, in Rockingham County at least. And that isn’t just me boasting. That’s what Brother Jeb said all the time I was picking peaches for him. And Mr. Howell said that to me too. More than once he said that. I’ve heard both men say that, in the peach business, it’s getting the first fruit of the season to market before anyone else does
I was just about home free with the tasty wench the lads had brought on board for me from Kingston when the attack started. After some mouth play, she hadn’t objected in the least when I’d unlaced her bodice and started giving her ripe melons the attention they deserved. We were entwined together in the window seat of my vessel’s fantail, and, forward lass that she was, she had unbuttoned my
The song “Kisses Sweeter than Wine” sprang to my mind, because that was what his kisses were. As far as I could tell in the dimly lit Blue Moon resort hotel room in Las Vegas, he was a young hunk, no older than I was. Most of the men in the room were older, a few probably twice or more my age. None were complete throwaways, but he was prime among them. And he had latched on to me as soon as I’d
[Author’s Note: When the Philippe LeCroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation” “Natchez Refreshment” “Biloxi Renewal” “Reconnected Recovery” “Theatrical Revival” “Sailing Back into Life” “Harvesting in the Park” “Garden District Plunge” “Dangerous Experiment” “Dueling Regeneration”] The young, drunk construction worker
I hadn’t seen Cousin Miles for nearly twenty years, and he looked more like it had been thirty. He looked so defeated and withdrawn into himself. And my memories were of a vibrant athlete. He wasn’t really a cousin in the blood-relative sense. Uncle John and Aunt Frieda had adopted both him and his sister, Mandy, because they couldn’t have any of their own. You could have told he wasn’t really
I had been down and just marking time ever since I'd left Beirut three years earlier. I hadn't really been able to write that whole time either; I was just floating on the royalties from my earlier novels, written in the passion of my youth—passion that I just couldn't find in me anymore. Perhaps it was having hit that deadly age of fifty; perhaps passion naturally dissipated from that point.
We were tooling down the highway in the early evening at a pretty good clip in my BMW Z4 Roadster when Perry started to get frisky. Perry was this hulking blond roommate of mine who also was on the football team, but who was a couple of years older than I was and played first-string tailback. I’d just started college this year and was still warming the bench, although I’d impressed the coach
I thought I was going to be sick. His mother asked him to entertain us, to play something for us on the piano, and the pert-butt blond tossed the curl out of his face and flowed over to the piano and started to fill the room with Chopin. I’d had this kid in my craw for a good fifteen years, and all I wanted to do was to slam him to the floor and fuck the stuffing out of him. And that was when he
Since the 1930s my extended family has had a remote ranch in a hidden Colorado Rockies valley abutting Medicine Bow National Park south from Laramie, Wyoming. The mountain fasts there—almost alpine in environment—are majestic, but they can be raw and cruel as well. Our family raised cattle there and took timber off the mountainsides in a planned "thinning" harvest pattern that supported a
The most wonderful thing a lover has ever done for me was to give me my life. I didn’t understand it at the time, but if he had loved me as I wanted him to—as I begged him to—I would be long dead today. The days of my sexual coming of age in Bangkok, Thailand, during the early eighties were paradise followed by a rude awakening, a realization of how life can come back at you hard that I didn’t
Doug had been conditioning me for months. We had met at the gym, and several weeks after we’d become regular spotting partners, he revealed to me, almost in an off-hand manner, that he was bisexual and that he actually preferred gay sex. He didn’t come on to me—at least not directly—and I consider myself fairly open-minded, so I continued with our informal spotting arrangements. I also had an
* * * The coven was good enough to dump Doug on the steps of an ER in a cross-town hospital and to drop me off at home with one of the younger men from the group there with me to clean me and the damage to our bedroom up and to provide an alibi for me when the police arrived later that evening. After the police left, I went into the bathroom and ran a steaming bath. I stretched out in the
I had been playing with the brunette’s tits, just as she was playing with mine, and I just got my hands away in time for Doug to take over. He must have been rougher on her tits than I was, because she was yipping and moaning and groaning and bouncing a bit on my skewer, which went to twelve inches under her attention. After a few minutes, he wish boned my legs again so that he could bury meat
Sailing Back into Life [Author’s Note: When the Philippe Lecroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation” “Natchez Refreshment” “Biloxi Renewal” “Reconnected Recovery” “Theatrical Revival” "Sailing Back into Life” “Harvesting in the Park” “Garden District Plunge” “Dangerous Experiment” “Dueling Regeneration”] Alphonse waved
FlyboysPete swung into the gym with a big grin on his face. “Fleet’s in and I’ve already talked with Javier. His ship will be in early, on Thursday. Says he can get a three-day shore pass. Time for a special weekend.”“I’m game,” Todd answered, but he was looking up at the man spotting him on the bench press and asked, “How about you, Dan?”“Every weekend’s special with you, babe,” Dan
(Written by request for a satin fetish story by James A.)The music swells and the lights dim under the big tent, as the excitement builds in the audience and the buzzing conversations subside with the rising expectation that something—something special—is about to happen. Strobing lights and laser beams come up, gyrating around on the floor below and under the canopy of the tent above,
Count Gregor Arninov towered over his elegantly dressed host and hostess in the foyer of their winter dacha as his sleigh was being brought around. He was leaning over them and holding the admiral’s wife’s small silk-gloved hand in his appreciably larger satin-clad one while he murmured how wonderful their ball had been and that, yes, he had enjoyed dancing with their daughter immensely. The
As I stood outside the entrance to the old British colonial-style Windsor Hotel in Nuwara Eliya, Sri Lanka, in the shadow of Mount Pidurutagala, waiting for someone to take me up to the ashram, I couldn’t believe how far—and how far back in time—I had moved from Teddy’s cabin in the Catskills. From the moment Teddy’s business partner, Mort Whitley, had driven up to the cabin and told me how
Searching for It(Corbin and Ethan both go looking for it on the New York docks)(sounding, fetish, docks, gay male clubs, domination, gay anal, rough sex, daddies, obsession, collections)“Yo, there, buddy. Lookin’ for somethin’? Cause I got somethin’ for you.”Corbin took a good look at the burly man who had materialized from behind a stack of metal barrels beyond where the light
I had both the advantages and curses of being a rock star. I could afford to go anywhere I wanted on the spur of the moment or as the mood hit me, but if a mood hit me that would land me in the tabloids, I’d better be prepared to go to the ends of the earth.The mood had hit me to get the most exotic and total fuck that I could find by the most talented cocksman I could attract. I had been on
Boyd had been leery of the arrangement from the very beginning, but he hadn’t said anything to his father about it. His father seemed so happy about having found Vic, one of Boyd’s college prep school coaches, two years after Aaron, his former lover, had died. Boyd would much rather it had been anyone other than Vic, someone who Boyd hadn’t known before Aaron died. But, when he was being honest
In most senses Bran had been invisible at the Hayden saloon the couple of months he’d been there. But as he came out of the back room into the main saloon hall, carrying the bucket of water Levi Yost, the saloon keeper, had told him to use to freshen the bowls in the rooms upstairs, he looked at the tall Christmas tree in the corner. Sadie, Katie, and Faye were busy happily decorating the tree
Goran saw the young man standing nervously at the reservations desk and liked what he saw. He was even happy that Serge, the maître d, was pretending not to see the young man, because that meant that Goran, the waiter, could see him to the table—and could make contact of some sort with him on the way there. Goran was one to make an immediate assessment of the playing field and pick out who he
Last night I dreamt I went to paradise again. I believe we can credit the encounter to Daphne du Maurier. My tour in Cyprus was at an end, but I had hung on for a month, sending my wife back to Washington, D.C., to get the house open up again and everything there back in working order and to guide one of our children into a new university year. I had stayed past my assignment rotation date to
I heard my name being called out from the midst of the teeming horde pressing in on the barriers after customs in New Delhi’s Indira Gandhi international airport, and a head and arm waving a sign was bouncing up and down over the tumult. The sign the young man was carrying said “Clifford Jenkins” with “New York” written under it. That was me. But I wasn’t being met by anyone that I knew of. The
“I’d like to make an Australian Crawl.” Stan gave a hearty laugh and acknowledged an empty glass up the bar. While he was gone, Keith, in turn, acknowledged that his own beer glass had miraculously filled on its own. He didn’t have much doubt that Stan was trying to get him drunk so that Keith would go in the back room with him. The burly barkeep had been putting the moves on him for some time
I had been jittery and conflicted for the entire two weeks since I’d seen that big black topping a guy at a pool party in Bangkok. I had been bottoming for a Swede in a nearby patio lounge when I looked over and saw this monster cock jack-hammering in out of the other guy—who clearly was in seventh heaven—and I almost melted on the spot. I was conflict, though. Obsessed with desire because the
I have always managed to keep my bisexual world in check and separate from my public straight world by always putting my wife and children first and by committing only to them—that is, possibly, with one notable exception. I had an atypical long-term relationship with an Australian colleague that seemed innocuous at least at the beginning but that has grown stronger over the years—possibly beyond
I guess it may have been because of my mother—and of the strange beliefs my grandmother formed around her. Up until the time my grandmother’s ill health coincided with me being old enough to go to college, I’d been kept in the dark about so many things. I knew that my mother must have done some really, really bad things from the way that my grandmother just tightened up, crossing her arms under
Perhaps I gave in so easily because Lenny embodied the best of two worlds. First, he was a wonderful, gentle caregiver. He had been coming to my house twice a day for several weeks to take care of my bed-bound grandmother, who was recovering from a broken hip. Second, he was drop-dead gorgeous. All blond Swedish muscle with a shy smile to accompany his sensuous mouth. I’d had a rough week
I was sitting outside the cottage door, just in my shorts, wondering if the farmer who had rented the rustic Cotswold cottage with the thatched roof and the rose trellis beside the door to me for two weeks had misinterpreted my offer. It hadn’t been in so many words, but I think I had been clear enough in my nonverbal delivery. But maybe not. Maybe signaling here in England was much different
“You’d get half of the bid, plus you’d get to keep the clothes.”I didn’t know that I was all that wild about being auctioned off, but I had to admit that I liked—no, I loved—Zhao Zeng’s clothes. That was what had attracted me to him in the first place. His black satin shirt and trousers were cut so well—and so provocatively—on him that I could hardly keep my eyes off him, even though I’d come
“Ahhh, that were very nice,” I said with a deep, satisfied sigh, as I spilled my seed down Des’s chin. We were in the boathouse on the lower lake, here because Des had wanted me to fuck him. But now we’d have to sit and talk for a bit, listening to the racing shells grind against the dock outside in the bit of a squall that had come up over Sandhurst. It would take me a few to recharge.“Cig?”
“Lou is chasing another story down, Gavin, and this one doesn’t look like more than a short paragraph in the local news section. So if you’ve got an hour or two, could you check this out? And if you don’t have an hour or two, I’d like to know what you’re doing; what you’re working on now was due on my desk an hour ago.”The city editor handed Gavin a telephone message form.“OK, boss. I’ll
I came to slowly, the flashing colored lights taking their time to form in my consciousness and whatever Tony had spiked my drink with slow to let loose of me. I was lying on a bed. I tried to rise, but my hands were cuffed together above me and my legs were cuffed as well to the lower corners of the bed. But the bounds were loose there. I could raise my legs as I wanted, but I couldn’t rise from
“I’m going to take you to the Darling tonight.”I froze. I’d been chatting with three other guys on the sectional sofa in the conversation pit, not even aware that the major had reentered the house. I was studiously avoiding thinking of where he was. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been in this conversation group at all. I normally tried to stay well away from these three. The three pansies we had
The two construction workers worked quickly and efficiently, cleaning up for the evening around the construction site on the new house on the steep hillside overlooking the pounding surf on the rugged coast below. The two moved together, in fluid motion. They were having a boisterous and obscene conversation of what the two horny hunks planned to do to their girl friends that evening after a
I wondered what he could tell about me that no one at home or the office—at least I hoped and always had thought—knew. He had introduced himself as Hal when he’d appeared beside me in Business Class and I’d stood from my aisle seat so that he could get over to the window. He’d had a friendly smile, and if I hadn’t been busy during the first two hours over the Atlantic from New York going over the
I fully acknowledge my weakness, but I think Janine has a share in the shattering of my vows to her. I’d only had that one fling back in college—with Phil. But Chet and Phil had had an affair after college, and now Chet was living in the next acreage to ours. Obviously Phil and Chet had talked about me, and Chet knew all about me before he moved here, because he had made quite clear to me that he
“It sounds too complicated for you, Matt,” Jason had said. “Getting a list would be the hardest part—impossible, I think. This is a small potatoes town. I think you should just keep it to the street and be happy when it works out. And get a job.”I’ll admit that getting a job was what got the plan rolling. Then getting a list turned out to be one of the easiest parts. The roughest part,
Theatrical Revival [Author’s Note: When the Philippe LeCroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation” “Natchez Refreshment” “Biloxi Renewal” “Reconnected Recovery” “Theatrical Revival” “Sailing Back into Life” “Harvesting in the Park” “Garden District Plunge” “Dangerous Experiment” “Dueling Regeneration”] The bodybuilder
I closed my lips over Sir Guy’s cock and pushed his foreskin down with them, my tongue going to opening and flicking down into his piss slit as my mouth slowly took more and more of him inside the moist warmth of my mouth cavity. He sighed contentedly and ran his fingers through my hair. He reached up and pulled my cock down to his lips and started returning the compliment.We were half way
“You cannot put it off any longer, my friend. If you do not choose for Asu soon, the priests will take him. The choice will no longer be yours—or Asu’s. He is of age for starting the life chosen for him. He cannot do other than meet his destiny.”“I know that, Sargon, it is just so hard . . .”Baltasar, the wood merchant, was sitting at a table outside of the tea shop in the bazaar, sipping
I had become a regular at the gym on Tuesday nights, and this 40-something businessman named Clint, who was also a regular on that night, and I had gotten to where we regularly spotted each other through our bar bell work. He was in great shape for his age, leaner than I was, but with well-defined, ropy muscles and chiseled square-cut features. I’d been trying to save the money for some time to
As I came up from the beach, I saw Carl and Angela on the deck, He had her top off and was stroking her breasts, and she was sitting astride his lap, having made who knows what connection. I knew what they’d be doing for the next couple of hours, which would leave me at loose ends again. I decided to take the initiative. “Hey, Carl,” I yelled out from below the deck sight line. “Would now be
Trunk of the Car, Part 1 I found I had a carefree weekend on my hands, so I had driven into the small town to answer an ad for a classic Triumph convertible that I might want to add to my collection. But I had been up and down the street several times without finding the address I was looking for. So, I just parked my car and started hunting on foot. I did find the address, but no one seemed
Eric must have enjoyed the polishing job we’d done on the trunk of his Tempest, because when I’d finished shooting off into him, he said, “Well, Peter if you’ll get this beautiful body off mine and stop entertaining the neighbors, perhaps we should go in and shower.” “I want to fuck again. I want you to fuck me,” I said, without moving. “That’s not out of the equation,” Eric said, with a
As we were leaving the shower, Eric took the tube of mentholated lubricant, squeezed out a large glob, and asked Claude to apply it, which Claude was more than happy to do, pushing his hand deep down the back of Eric’s silk shorts and massaging the gel into Eric’s ass as Eric grunted and twitched his butt. “As soon as this does it’s magic,” Eric said. “I want you to have another go at me, Claude.
Sometime later, I was awakened by Eric pressing on my shoulder. I raised my arms to bring him into bed with me, but he shushed me and said in a low voice, “No, not that. We hear something downstairs. Claude’s gone ahead to check it out. He wants us to follow him down. When we got to the first floor, we could see Claude at the back of the house, near a door that went into a workout room. Claude
After hosing ourselves off again and getting back into those silk shorts, Claude suggested we go down to the living room and drink beer and watch a football game on TV. So, down we went. After I tossed off my first beer, I began to feel a little sorry for the dude hanging up in the gym and asked if it would be okay if I went in there and cleaned him up a bit and put some salve on the new hole
When I awoke, the room was dim, and the house seemed very quiet. It had been a great day, but it was time to shower off one last time and hit the road. But first I’d find the guys and see what they were up to. As I got to the bottom of the stairs, I heard some noises from the back of the house and padded into the gym. The pizza guy was still on delivery, I could see. They’d pulled out the
While living on the island of Cyprus, I developed quite a taste for young Turkish men. If you could get a good-looking, well-constructed Turkish guy before he got too far into his forties, you could almost guarantee you'd have something forceful, vigorous, straightforward, and good natured to play with. You also, quite often, would have a guy with a pretty heavy pelt on him. Now, I didn't
The Hulk crouched near the bolted heavy oak door, eyeing Rab, ready to pounce, trying to anticipate where Rab might try to scurry next. The stone-walled chamber wasn’t small, but it wasn’t so large that Rab had much of a chance evading the Hulk much longer. Both men were panting, having played this cat-and-mouse game for several minutes, but Rab was more winded than the Hulk was. No one in his
It was the wrong choice of swimwear, and I was headed back to the guest room to rectify that, when the cause of it all stopped me in the hallway. The new owner of our company had invited me to his country place for a weekend to discuss some details of a project we were working on and it turned out there was a pool party included. But, not knowing that, I hadn’t brought my suit. I had assumed this
I had literally creamed myself almost nightly for Phil’s body, but Phil was about as straight as they come--and getting all the female tail he could handle if all the talk around campus was true. We were both attending the university on athletic scholarships--Phil on a football and baseball scholarship and me on a wrestling scholarship, wrestling being a good way for me to get down and dirty with
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