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A Road Back

by Jimmy Gordon


By Jimmy Gordon jimmygor@optonline.net

The road was deserted, not a car in sight for the last two miles. The Kenworth I was riding rumbled through its gears as I decelerated around the bend. It had gone cold since the sun set four hours ago, so I rolled the windows up to keep the damp October fog out of my cab. Thank Fuckin’ God the truck firm my brother works for gave me a shot at this job, and I was runnin’ freight again, just like before Attica.

The rap was for real, and it wasn’t my first, so I guess I deserved to do the time after that hitchhiker ID’d me in the lineup. Hey, the fuckin’ bitch gave great head, sure, but she turned on me fast, and tried to slip out with my wallet. I roughed her up a little more than I planned. I never expected her to pull a knife, to fight back like that, and by the time I was through with her she had multiple breaks and her face looked like hamburger. Her goddamn fault, bitch shoulda just given up the wallet and I woulda cut her loose. Guess leavin’ her on the Interstate was a big mistake, she almost bled to death. Somehow her greasy shyster got the attempted murder rap to stick.

I was the ripe old age of twenty-six when I passed through the stone arch at the prisoner drop-off door the first time, ten years ago. I quickly got the lay of the land, and assimilated to lockup society. The joint is full of rules and regulations, both official and unofficial. The inmates live in a closed society with unspoken rights and privileges for the most aggressive and dangerous prisoners. The weaker survive by “rolling over” and making concessions to the stronger. I wasn’t gonna take shit from no one, and a guy my size can be pretty intimidating…I was high on the food chain, and everyone steered clear of me.

I got a cushy attachment to house duty as a porter. I delivered hot water and meals from 3 to 9 pm to the higher risk inmates. I never saw nothin’ in my twenty-six years like the characters in 24 Company, the protective-custody unit in Block A. Mostly child molesters and such, or prisoners the warden identified as vulnerable based on sexual orientation or gender-identity. They all looked bewildered and lost. If allowed out into the general prison population, they would last a few days, tops. I flew lots of “kites” to them, messages from other inmates.

Usually a dude would hand me the folded slip of paper with a couple bucks or a pack of butts as payment for my delivery services. I dropped it into the meal tray next to the plastic fork. I knew what the deal was: sex for protection. It was Attica’s unwritten code of ethics that sheltered the weak from predators. The guards can’t be everywhere and there’s more shit going down than they can monitor, in a pen the size of Attica. A man who hasn’t had sex in a while will find a way to get off, so you can bet there were more hook-ups and more cum flying around the joint than a whorehouse on payday.

I had seen Ricky around, mostly in the yard. He was slender, but working on his biceps on the weight rack every afternoon. Lean, smooth and graceful, you could mistake him for one of those fags in tights you see prancing around on PBS specials from the Met or some fuckin’ place. He was more hard-boiled than he looked, having been incarcerated for murder, the ritual slaying of a rival gang member back in the Bronx. When he arrived a year ago he was voted “most fuckable perp” by the prison guards. This turned out to be true: Ricky was immediately raped by two inmates his first week behind bars. Where there’s the will, there’s a way… that’s what they say. Battered and broken, he was moved to protective when he got out of the infirmary.

By the way, Ricky is also a bit of a gender-bender; his long brown hair streaked lemon yellow with bleach snuck out of the laundry room. When in his cell he wore a sarong of coarse cotton fabric tied loosely around his smooth waist, and his gentle manner didn’t hint at his violent past. I thought he had a nice smile, and good character. I began to give him extra food and some candy from the commissary. Guess he thought I was cute or somethin’, ‘cause he finally said, “Yo, Frank, why don’t you write me and tell me what’s on your mind?”

A couple days later, I dropped him a kite, and the rest is history. I told him I thought he was different, and wouldn’t mind getting’ to know him a lot better. I was getting good at this delivery crap, and could finish up the meal run in plenty of time to visit with Ricky every afternoon. He would warm something up on his hotplate that I smuggled in to him, another luxury the guards “overlooked”. (Sometimes it’s easier to allow little luxuries, in order to keep the peace.) I would sit on a box outside his cage and we would eat a meal together. It was like being married, and although I didn’t understand why, I really enjoyed that time we spent. Ricky proposed an “arrangement”. I didn’t know what he was talkin’ about. He said it means we stick together no matter what, like a team. I liked that, so I said yes. Ricky had my name tattooed around his wedding ring finger, a sign of our commitment.

After downing the food, I would drop my pants and press my belly against the bars. Ricky put his face to the gate, and devoured my penis. He loved to please me, and although I didn’t feel gay, I gotta say he was the best cocksucker I had ever met. I just concentrated on the feeling of my dick in his mouth, and didn’t think too much about Ricky’s gender. Ricky reached through the steel bars and pulled on my fuzzy ass, forcing my thick cock deep into his throat. I was nervous at first that we would get caught, but soon word was out that we were linked up, and the guards didn’t seem to give a shit. I got bolder, and began to visit him a second time after the hot water run.

I was amazed at Ricky’s hunger for my meat. He never said no, never had a headache or shit like that. His soft, full lips would wrap around the head, slowly pulling me into his warm wet mouth, his tongue dancing on my piss-hole as he coaxed the pre-cum from my prick. I can still feel the cold bars pressed against my hairy chest. I shot so many loads of cum into Ricky and he took each one, swallowing my seed into his belly. Afternoons, I watched him press weights in the yard and would think how much of his body mass was probably made from the shots of protein I fed him twice a day. It kinda turned me on that we were connected like that.

One day Ricky acted a little weird, and his blowjob was sloppy and fast. He seemed to be thinking of something other than my fat tool jammed in his throat. It was finished and he hadn’t even jerked himself off, like he usually did. He avoided my eyes as he wiped my sticky jizz from his chin, and I knew he had found someone else. Within a week another dude was visiting his cage, and I was old news…Some freakin’ arrangement! I sent dozens of kites to him; I poured my fuckin’ heart out like a freakin’ fag. His mind was made up. He thought the advantages of playing wife to this new guy from the Hood outweighed the benefits I could offer. One afternoon I came into 24 Company to deliver mail. I saw Ricky, his ass pressed up to the gate; a big “Latin King” named Juan banging his ass like it was a punching bag.

The high-ranking gang member had just been transferred up from Rikers, where he had forced several inmates into sexual submission. I saw Ricky’s body bucking with every thrust, his fucker’s big copper-colored dick jamming into his gut like a piston. The back of Juan’s denim shirt was soaked with sweat as he pounded Ricky’s creamy white ass. The big ‘Rican had been moved upstate because of his aggressive behavior, and the influence he had with the other prisoners in New York. Ricky looked at me, and grinned. The fuckin’ pussy asshole, getting’ just what he deserves. Hope his new husband rips him open, goddam cumslut!

Now I was out. The Pen can sure screw a guy over. It took away my life, my future. Thank God my brother believes in me, and gave me my chance to start again while I was still young enough to make a life for myself. I love driving rigs, the feeling of a powerful diesel roaring under my feet as I guide it down the road. It’s a sense of power, of unlimited horizons, of freedom…something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

It was just past nine, running north through Maryland, headed to New England. I saw a figure in the pool of light in front of the truck as the Kenworth rumbled down the ramp on the other side of the bend. Couldn’t tell at first if it was a chick or a dude. Didn’t matter, I’m flexible. It was a man, dressed way too light considering the cool weather we were having. He wore baggy cargo shorts and a long sleeve sweatshirt, his backpack slung over one shoulder and his hand raised in the international symbol of the hitchhiker: fist clenched and thumb lifted to the sky. I could see his warm breath, hanging in the frosty autumn air as he exhaled. I braked, the big rig squealing to a stop just past the dude. He jogged to the side of the cab, and I popped the passenger door open for him.

Danger signals went off in my head. I’m not lucky with hitchhikers, and I had sworn to never put myself in jeopardy again. But damn, the dude looked freakin’ hot. If I waited another hundred miles or so, there would be plenty of tail at the rest area outside of Newark. The truck-hawks would be hovering, just waiting for a hot and horny driver to roll into the lot. There would be plenty of guys waiting there to service the truckers, and they were all dick-crazy.

The hitcher looked to be about 20 or so, and I thought, if I do end up screwin’ him, at least it wouldn’t be child molesting. I considered the desperate fags waiting at the rest stop, and decided this guy was worth pursuing. He shivered and hugged himself, trying to shake off the damp cold that had settled into his bones. I turned up the heat and aimed the vents at his trembling body.

“Hey, bud, fuckin’ cold out there. Where’s your coat, man?” I asked him, as I checked him out. “Name’s Frank. Where ya goin’ to?”

He told me his name was Jimmy, and he didn’t care where he was going, as long as it was away. I guessed he was running from something or someone, but decided not to press it with him. I watched as he rubbed his slender, athletic legs, trying to get some circulation going. His waist was slim and his shoulders wide and powerful for such a skinny guy. His biceps looked nice, his arms long and defined. I looked up to his attractive face. He was watching me, and smiled as our eyes met. His handsome angular chin had just a shadow of facial hair, like he hadn’t shaved in a couple days. His aquiline nose and wide blue eyes were topped with a thick mop of curly blonde hair that danced around his ears, a golden halo.

I reached back into the bunk and pulled out a wooly plaid blanket, and tossed it over to Jimmy. He snuggled under it like a kitten, and sighed as the warmth of the cab surrounded him. His breathing became heavier, and I realized that the steady hum of the Kenworth had lulled him to sleep. He lay there like some kinda freakin’ apparition, a ghost or angel snoring softly in my cab. We rolled on, the truck barreling through the frosty October night. Crossed the Delaware just outside Philly, my dick raging against my fly. Newark: 78 miles.

The kid was sighing and moaning in his sleep. His hand slipped under his shorts, rubbing slowly on his flat stomach. Damn, I was getting’ hot watching him. As I checked him out the blanket slipped off his hips, and I saw he was erect under his baggy cargo shorts. I couldn’t tell if he was dreaming, or if he was awake and purposely turning me on. I hoped it was the latter. His eyes opened and locked on mine. That smile again--fuck! I opened my pants and released “big Frankie”.

“C’mon over here, Jimmy, don’t be shy. You got me figured right. I need a blowjob bad, and I’m thinkin’ you need a cock in your face.” I said as he crossed the console and kneeled in front of my open legs. His athletic body just fit between me and the dash, the big steering wheel forcing him into my crotch. Holding the wheel with my right, I pulled his golden head onto my dick, his velvety mouth engulfing the meaty shaft as he choked it back into his throat. “Oh, yeah, faggot, suck on my meat!”

He was hungry, and I fed him my salami till he gagged. I stopped pulling on his head, and he relaxed. My dick swelled and pulsated in his mouth, the steady hum of the diesel under us vibrating through his jaw. He moaned, and then started to suck. The feeling of my dick sliding on the roof of his mouth, slipping past the bend and lodging into his throat was awesome. I reached under his sweatshirt and stroked his back in encouragement. “Oh, yeah, Jimmy. What a fuckin’ cocksucker you are. I want you to swallow, baby. You gonna take my cum for me, baby?”

He pulled on my dick with his lips, my cock sliding on his spit and my salty pre-cum. He used a little tooth, raking his pearly-whites gently across the head of my cock before diving back into my pubes, his nose buried in the thick black mound of hair at the base of my cock. “Damn, Jimmy, whered’ja learn that? Sends fuckin’ chills through me when you do that!” I moaned, as he continued to drool into my lap. What a rush, tooling down the highway at 70 mph, my dick buried in a hot cum sucking mouth. This is what life on the road is all about, man!

We were at the rest stop. I swung hard on the wheel as we flew onto the Ramsey exit ramp. I jammed the brakes and downshifted, the engine growling as we rolled into the parking lot. Jimmy’s head bounced violently on my cock as we rumbled to a stop. His chin rubbed on my nuts, his whiskers tickling my thighs. My balls tightened and my dick erupted, sending a hot load of cum into his slimy mouth. He swallowed quickly, licking and slurping on my meat till he had taken it all. I shuddered, pulling his head into my groin. I held him there until the last drop oozed from my piss hole, and my cock went soft in his mouth.

I parked the truck next to the others as Jimmy pulled himself off me and we both went into the restroom to wash up. I had to take a crap, so I went into one of the stalls. While I was meditatin’ there, I heard Jimmy’s voice; he was talkin’ to some dude. When I came out of the stall, he was gone. Damn, I woulda enjoyed his attentions for the rest of the haul. I looked around the rest area, but Jimmy was nowhere to be found.

I went back to the rig. I was spent; Jimmy’s cum-sucking had drained the last energy outta me back there on the Interstate. It was time for me to get some sleep before hitting the road for the last stretch of my run. I clutched the plaid blanket around my shoulders as I curled up in the sleeper. It smelled faintly like Jimmy.

Two AM, I looked out the porthole window in the back of the cab and saw several men hanging around the door to the men’s washrooms. I’m thinkin’, maybe I’ll hang out for a few and see what’s up. The men were standing at the curb, chatting and joking with each other in low voices. I hadda take a leak, and they checked me out as I passed by. The big gorillas looked like they were waiting in line, but the stalls were empty. As I came into the room I saw what they were waiting for: Jimmy.

The men had him stripped and lying face down on the wooden bench in front of the sinks. His legs were spread-eagled and two dudes were holding him down by his elegant arms, wrenching them back and pushing down on his milky-white shoulders. A trucker, a wop guy I know name of Gio, was just mounting Jimmy’s round ass, his massive cum-dripping cock poised just at the back door. Gio is a big fucker. He stands on sturdy legs that look like telephone poles, his torso thick and muscular. His hulking body is covered in a dense forest of kinky black hair. He aimed his baseball bat dick right at that quivering asshole, and I heard Jimmy’s outraged scream as Gio’s massive hips settled onto his victim.

Jimmy bucked wildly, Gio holding the kid firmly in his meaty paws, sending his cock deep into his victim’s tender body. Another dude I never saw before stood in front of Jimmy on the bench. He dropped his pants and revealed another awesome dick, long and uncut, its foreskin revealing an angry red crown. I figured out where this one was headed as the guy grabbed Jimmy by that golden halo and guided his glistening erection into the kid’s mouth. I saw the shaft disappear into Jimmy, his screams muffled as the man’s thick veiny cock choked off his throat. The two men rammed their dicks into Jimmy, the pounding rhythm bouncing him like a ping-pong ball from crotch to crotch.

I watched from the urinal, “big Frankie” getting hard as I pissed. Gio was shaking violently, his broad hips jamming his dick deep into Jimmy. I saw his fuzzy shoulders tense up as his back arched. The men holding Jimmy down shouted encouragement as he ejaculated deep in Jimmy’s prone body, a sweating mountain of muscle and hair. Shuddering, he pumped the last of his load into Jimmy’s chute. The other guy was jabbing his cock in Jimmy’s mouth, and I could see he was close, too. His face contorted into an evil smirk as he pulled Jimmy’s nose into his sweaty groin, mainlining a hot stream of jizz right down his throat. Jimmy gagged and struggled to swallow, his mouth entirely filled with cock.

The next men were already waiting to take a turn at bat, their flies open, pulling on angry swollen cocks as they approached Jimmy. I suddenly wondered how many had already dumped loads in him...had this been going on since I left him at the stalls five hours ago? I searched his face for a sign, was he into this or not? I could only see a vacant stare in his crystal blue eyes. He looked dead to the world, distant, and uninvolved in what was happening to his body. I guess he had zoned out as a defense against the outrage of his rape and multiple cock penetration. I watched Jimmy’s expression as a large black man pressed his oily cockhead against his soft pink lips. His eyes locked on me, and I saw a spark of recognition. Was he pleading for help?

I ran back to the truck and pulled out the crowbar. Shit, I was gettin’ in too deep here, all I needed was another assault charge and I’d be back in Attica by next week. Why was I defending the little slut? Maybe this is just what he was lookin’ for tonight, a gangbang to remember. I couldn’t let the kid get fucked-up like that! Shit, he was just a lousy cocksucking slut, but he didn’t deserve what was going down in there. I made up my mind to pull the bastards off him and get him out.

The black giant had his dick buried in Jimmy’s mouth. He didn’t need to be held down anymore, his arms hung limply over the sides of the bench, his hands lying motionless on the cement floor. His head was jerking back violently as the mammoth ebony shaft entered his throat. No one was fucking him, so I could see his battered asshole, stretched beyond recognition, like a rotted peach. A stream of cum ran from his ass like a leaking faucet, forming a slimy pool on the plank beneath his balls.

“Get the fuck off him, you stinkin’ son-of-a-bitch!” I shouted, as the men looked up in surprise. The black truck driver just kept pumping away at Jimmy. His shirt was open, his massive chest darkened with tight curls of inky-black hair. He pulled at the silver rings in his big chocolate brown tits as he sank his penis deeper into Jimmy’s tortured face. I raised the crowbar into the air, but the man just laughed. Bringing the heavy iron down across his massive shoulders, I knocked him off Jimmy and he collapsed to the ground. The others started towards me, but I held the crowbar in their faces and the chicken-shits backed down…I’m thinkin’ they could tell by the tats on my arms that I was an ex-con, and not to be messed with. The big buck had just started to ejaculate in Jimmy, and I could see the black bastard’s jizz shooting out of his cock as he lay winded and in pain on the floor.

Jimmy was conscious, but couldn’t stand. I scooped him up and threw him over my shoulder like a sack of flour. “This is fuckin’ my property, I brought the faggot here and I’m takin’ the faggot with me! Anyone object to that?” I shouted at the gang. “The goddamn show is over; get the fuck outta my way!”

The men parted as I carried Jimmy out into the cold night air. I heard grumbling and a few laughs as we crossed the moonlit asphalt to my rig. I opened the door and lifted Jimmy’s lifeless body into the cab. He moaned, and collapsed into the bunk. I looked him over: nothing was broken, but he was badly bruised, and his lips were chapped and bleeding. They had split it open with their mighty dicks. His asshole was still oozing cum, but didn’t seem to be bleeding, just stretched out and mushy. His pretty, hairless butt cheeks were sticky and red from the constant pounding the last few hours. I cleaned him up with some wet-naps as best I could. He jumped when I got down to wiping the crust and slime from his asshole. Guess he thought he had another butt-beating coming or somethin’, but when he saw I was helping him out, he relaxed. My fingers pushed the cloth deep into his sloppy hole, and he rubbed back against me. Shit, he was such a sexy little puss. He lay in my bunk, soft and vulnerable, totally helpless.

He turned over, and lay on his back as I got a clean wipe and stroked his silky bare chest, running the cool wet-nap down his belly to the soft fluff of blonde hair at the base of his cock. He smiled weakly and closed his eyes. My face hovered above his as our lips met. I had never kissed Ricky…that was all about the sex, all about the arrangement. My first gay kiss was soft, tentative, like kids on a first date. We explored each other’s mouths; I licked his cracked lips, his nose brushing lightly against my wiry moustache, the soft peach-fuzz on his chin tickling my cheek as we pressed our faces together. Jimmy and I made out like a couple of teenagers. I lost track of the time, but the sun was rising over the scrub pines as we drifted to sleep, his head on my shoulder, his golden hair against my ear.

I woke to the sound of seagulls. Jimmy’s body lay curled into mine. We clung to each other like two spoons, his ass pressing against my morning woody and my thick hairy arms wrapped around his silky chest. My hands slid down his velvety torso, and I cupped my meaty palms around his balls. He reached back to pull my head into his neck, and I sucked on his creamy flesh.

Anybody I ever fucked could identify me just by looking at my dick. It is long, thicker at the base, tapering like a torpedo to a large mushroom cap. The most distinctive feature though, is its curve. My erect cock arcs out and upward, like a swan’s neck, so the best way for me to enter someone is if they sit on it. I rolled on my back, and pulled Jimmy face-up on top of me. His legs separated, ass down on my belly, his body draped over my barrel chest. My curving boner reached up to meet his asshole and I slid in easily.

I began to play with his tits, rubbing then twisting them with my beefy fingers. He seemed to respond, and I slipped deeper into his soft, warm ass. I knew he was enjoying the sensation, the hard curve of my cock rubbing against his prostate, stretching his man-cunt as I guided it in. I started to screw him hard. Women tell me gettin’ fucked by “big Frankie” is a little like gettin’ punched in the gut, but after a while the sensation becomes very satisfying. I knew I was bringing Jimmy to a climax. I stroked firmly on his pretty ivory dick, my fist slapping hard on his balls as I jerked him off.

“Jimmy, you hot little pussy, I want you to cum with me. Let me know when you’re getting’ close, baby.” I whispered in his ear as I pulled on his hips, driving my potent dick into his gut. He groaned and twisted on my cock, and I felt his dick swell as Jimmy’s semen shot up his shaft and flew into the air above us. It fell in thick creamy drops across his chest. I was so fuckin’ turned on, I immediately nutted in his butt, my dick curving deep into his body.

The rest of the run north to Boston was like a big wet dream. We got into bean town late that afternoon and got a crummy little room at Rosie’s, a fleabag trucker’s motel just outside the train yards. Jimmy didn’t tell me, didn’t want me to know, but I had hurt him pretty bad when we screwed in the cab that morning. He was damaged goods…the rape in the washroom had left him in a lot of pain, and it was only his desire to please me that drove him to ride my cock so soon afterward. I really felt bad for the poor kid, so I was very gentle with him in the motel that weekend. We pretty much just made out, and I let him suck my prick a few times. He loved it when I played with his tits, his sweet pink nipples between my lips, chewing gently as he squirmed and moaned for more.

He never did tell me what he was running from. One thing for sure, I guess I’m gayer than I thought…I asked him to stay with me and ride the roads a while, since he didn’t have anywhere to go, anyhow. He stayed with me for a couple months; we fucked and sucked up and down the Eastern coast in the big Kenworth. I wonder where he is now, whom he’s with. I was never happier than when he was sittin’ in the passenger seat, singing along to some tune on the radio, our destination not as important as the journey.


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25 Gay Erotic Stories from Jimmy Gordon

A Father's Love

The birds waited for me every afternoon. I would stop at the bakery on 56th Street and get a bag of leftover rolls from the breakfast rush. Pigeons are plentiful and most New Yorkers think of them as nothing more than an annoyance, but I enjoy feeding them. Some of them are regulars, and I even named a few of the bolder, friendlier birds. I know it sounds silly, but they brought me some peace of

A Man of Innocence

By Jimmy Gordon DoozyG@aol.com Jack would knock on the door every evening, as I was shutting down my computer and packing up my things to leave. He was the maintenance guy who came around from office to office, through the night, when everyone else had gone home. His job was to remove the piles of rubbish and paper that my colleagues and I produced in the operation of the companies business,

A Road Back

By Jimmy Gordon jimmygor@optonline.netThe road was deserted, not a car in sight for the last two miles. The Kenworth I was riding rumbled through its gears as I decelerated around the bend. It had gone cold since the sun set four hours ago, so I rolled the windows up to keep the damp October fog out of my cab. Thank Fuckin’ God the truck firm my brother works for gave me a shot at this job,

Biker's Bet, Part 1

By Jimmy Gordon. I smelled Leon’s musty leather jacket, my face pressed against his shoulder, my arms wrapped around his taut waist as we sped through the chilly November night. His big Harley growled under us as he downshifted through a turn in the snaky road. We were on our way to Jugs, the leather biker bar in the next town. I had only heard about it, my friends telling me stories of hot

Biker's Bet, Part 2

Ruben got up and sauntered over to the girls at the bar. They seemed to have forgiven him for messing around with the little queer on the barstool. I pulled my face off the gigantic biker’s cock just long enough to see Ruben step on to the gritty dance floor, a big-breasted woman hanging on his shoulders as they swayed together under the grimy disco ball. He ground his hips into hers as the

Bronx Bash

My stomach was growling. It had been twenty-four hours since I had anything in my gut that could be called food. Oh, I had taken in plenty of protein, and the big ten-inch black cock swaying in my face was about to make another deposit! I heard the sound of the men in the next room. It was like a fucking party out there, as they waited their turn to enter the dimly lit bedroom. It all started

Camfrontation

By Jimmy Gordon(I wrote this one from HIS point-of-view. Heh Heh.)jimmygor@optonline.netI met Jimmy in the cam chat room. He’s one of those sexy young guys that love to jerk off in front of men. He is blessed with a slim defined body, almost hairless, feminine but not faggy. I love to watch him bare his stuff. He’s really good, a showman for sure. He knows just how far to go, how to strip

Chosen To Suffer, Part 1

Chosen to SufferBy Jimmy Gordon - jimmygor@optonline.netI got the call late Tuesday night. The voice on the line was deep and resonant. He introduced himself as Dale, a friend of Kevin's. If you had a chance to read my “Water Rat” series, you know all about Kevin. I had sworn him off like a bad habit, a lust far too dangerous to be sated. It was an amazing summer and Kevin had

Chosen To Suffer, Part 2: The Encore

Chosen to Suffer, Part 2: The Encoreby Jimmy Gordon / jimmygor@optonline.netThe text message came up on my cell phone around 4:00 Tuesday. Dale sent me a web address, and instructions to log on that evening at precisely 11:00. I was pretty agitated by the time my appointment on line rolled around. Dale was exceptionally good-looking, but more, he was incredibly powerful. Obviously a

Chosen to Suffer, Part 3: Professional Series

Chosen to Suffer 3: Professional Series By Jimmy Gordon. The saga continues… Dale called again. He had given me a new proposition two days ago and asked me to think about my answer carefully. I was kinda anxious for him to call me back. I had made up my mind to take the gig. “It’s in Atlantic City, he’s in a tournament there and wants you to spend the entire weekend with him. This

El Sabor de un Hombre

El Sabor de un Hombre“?Habla usted Espanol, chico?” he growled, his voice just the way I expected, deep and masculine.“Un poco…” I watched the large man on the computer screen. His cam revealed the massive chest that drew me to his profile last night. “I will speak English, but mine is not so good.”There was a three second delay, like I was watching a movie and the sound was

Forgive The Trespasser

Forgive the TrespasserBy Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netGoddamn rental car! I knew it didn’t sound right when I pulled out of the airport parking lot! But I thought it’s German, maybe they all whine like that when they change gears. All I knew is that it was a convertible and a ride across the state on a day like today required just such a car. I entered the Interstate and headed

He Came to Me in My Dreams

By Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netHe came to me in my dreams. For weeks I would resist sleep by reading or playing Solitaire, until my eyes fluttered shut and my head slumped into the warm cocoon of pillows on my velvet couch. I dreaded sleep, feared the recurring dream that left me confused, excited and ultimately sad every morning when I would drag myself back to consciousness.It

Helping Man

A tale of dangerous sex--this story may not be suitable for general readership. Please be advised this is erotic literature and should only be read by mature adults.The bar was packed for a Sunday night. This was not my usual hangout. I had traveled over 30 miles to get to the place, a “dance bar” in the next county. I’m on the board of a GLBT community service foundation, and it was my task

Horsing Around

By Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netThe City:Sunday night. I saw him at the end of the bar. He sat alone, sipping a tumbler of scotch and ice. He looked like a square peg in a round hole, obviously out of his element in the sleek piano bar on west Forty-Sixth Street. The crowd that night was typical, overdressed and bored as they sat at tiny chrome tables clustered around the big ebony

Lawn Service

By Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netThe noise was deafening. The big lawn mower was crisscrossing the stretch of grass between the house and the pool, carving even stripes into the blue-green fescue. It had been a long winter, cold and gray. This was the first really beautiful day of spring, hovering at 78 degrees. My blonde hair had gotten dark, my flesh white and pasty. I longed for the

Shop Sex

By Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netShit, I think I’m fuckin’ goin‘ nuts. Goddamn, who’da thunk it would happen to me. I was always straight as a freakin’ arrow all my life. The fuckin’ fag had to come into my life...I sat at the computer that day looking over the record of deliveries at Tire City, the repair shop I work at for the last ten years. It was a very slow morning, and the

Straight to Me

by Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netI tasted the salty tang of his pre-cum as his cock slipped around in my mouth. I was going to take my time, this time, the last time. I wanted to savor the moment and the delicious taste of his dick, the strong scent of man rising from his thick pubic bush. I couldn’t keep seeing this guy, not like this. I knew going into it that he was straight, and

The Holidays Suck

By Jimmy GordonNote: This is a story involving drugs, booze and consensual sex with hairy men. It is intended as erotic fictional entertainment, and any individual who is not of legal age or does not wish to view such material should not continue reading.The Holidays SuckHis breath hung frosty in the air as he exhaled through his mouth. It couldn’t be more than 30 degrees in the

The Native Desert

The Native Desert jimmygor@optonline.netThe sun had set several hours ago, the heat of the day forgotten as the desert fell under a mantle of cold night air. The horse was as exhausted as I was, and I felt her stumble over hidden snake holes and grassy roots as we trudged through the unending sand berms of the valley. She couldn’t go on much longer. If the old girl failed me, I was surely a

The Sins of Matru

Please do not read this story unless you are of legal age in your community. It is intended as literature, and as such is not based on any individual, alive or deceased.He was a quiet man, twenty-two in the summer of 1946; his still young face lined with worry and years of the blazing Indian sun. Still, he looked like all of the other men in Bombay (later known as Mumbai), their skin the same

Water Rat

The wave-runner sputtered to a stop, and quickly settled into a foamy swell as I drifted towards the beach. I could smell hot plastic, and the engine case was steaming. I knew I had plenty of fuel, so the fucking motor must have blown a gasket or something. I know diddly-squat about engines, so who knows? I only know that this island is a good two miles from the mainland, and I’m certainly not a

Water Rat, Part 2: Choices

Water Rat 2: Choices (Please read “Water Rat” first. This is intended as an epilogue.) I had been bound at the wrists for almost a full day. Stranded on this island had turned into one of the most important and life-altering experiences I have ever had. I discovered that all of the games, all of the passion and sexual adventure of my life to this point was meaningless. I had found total

Water Rat, Part 3: Rapture

By Jimmy Gordonjimmygor@optonline.netAuthor’s note: Please read Water Rat parts I & II before you begin this chapter. The Water Rat series is a sinister tale of submission and dominance. It explores the confused emotions of hate and desire, and the fine line that separates the two. It is definitely adult in content, so the typical disclaimers are urged. Please do not proceed if you are

Window Pains

Jimmygor@optonline.netI live next door to a very nice family. When my lover Bobby and I bought the house several years ago, they welcomed us warmly and gave us lots of advice and support, as we had never owned our own place before this house we are in now. If they didn’t know we are gay, they surely do by now, as we are very open about our sexuality, although we don’t push it in their face.

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