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Deal Closer, Part 2

by Habu


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 thighs, his strong legs encasing mine.

“There was some terminology I didn’t cover earlier that I thought you might want to know,” he said, as he looked down into my eyes in the semidarkness.

“Oh, like what, Boss?” I asked, quite aware that he was already hard and I was quickly becoming so again.

“Well, for instance, this is what is called ‘docking,’” he said in a husky voice, as he took both of our cocks in a beefy hand and squeezed them together alongside each other. He then began a gentle stroking that slowing gathered rhythm. I sighed and ran my hands over his smooth chest and belly and played with his nipples. After several minutes, I sat up against him, took his head in my hands, and we engaged in some passionate, deep-tongue kissing, while he continued to double-stroke our cocks.

He didn’t take us to climax, though. After a bit, he pushed me back down on the bed and came down with me, so that we were both on our side, with his butt cuddled into my belly.

“I could stay here all night, here with you,” CJ whispered.

“You certainly can if you want to, CJ,” I responded. “I wouldn’t be displeased in the least.”

CJ gave a contented sigh and pushed his butt further into the curve of my stomach. I was quite aware that my cock was running down the generous-sized crack between his butt cheeks.”

“Craig,” CJ said in a low voice after a few minutes. “Fuck me. I want you to fuck me. I want your cock in me. Just scoot your body down a bit. Yes, like that. I’ll raise my leg up like this to give you entrance and you put your leg up like that. You’re big and long enough. There, guide it to my ass and curl back up like . . . Ah, yes, that’s it. Deeper. Deeper still. Oh, yes. God that’s good. Now relax. Just do what’s natural. Oh, Oh. Yes, yes. Oh, yes, good, you can reach my rod and balls. Ah, that feels so nice. You are a natural. You are so good. This, in case you wondered, is what we call side splitting. Come, give us a kiss.”

After a gentle fuck ending in a shared release, we stayed that way, me inside CJ, until near dawn. I don’t know for how long, really, because, when I awoke in the morning, CJ was gone and I briefly wondered if I’d imagined the whole previous day and night.

I had no idea I could be as brazen as I was the next day while we were reeling this Binggum guy in. But CJ had told me that we didn’t have much time to turn the trick, and Binggum seemed pretty grouchy at first during our initial meeting with his full board. I guess, though, that was because he didn’t really zero in on me until I had gotten up to give my short briefing late in the morning. CJ had been curious how I could dress to be noticed, and I told him that there wasn’t really any problem in that department. I had brought what I called my party suit, which I had had tailored for cruising the bars when I’d wanted to pick up women. I saw no reason why it couldn’t work as well on a man who was so inclined, and I proved to be correct.

The suit was tailored of a fine material that, nevertheless, followed just about every curve I had. The seat was basted in a bit to show the roundness and firmness of my butt, the legs fit closely to my well-muscled legs, and a close inspection of the crotch area would leave little doubt which side I “dressed” on. The pants rode quite low for dress slacks—and, in fact, would show a nice curl of pubic hair if I wasn’t wearing a shirt. The shirt was of a fine, close-fitting material as well, which did not completely hide the shadow of my dark chest hair and made no attempt to hide my nipples if they were erect. The coat was also cut to flatter how my full chest flared down to a small waist.

Binggum got his first whiff of the chase when I rose up behind CJ’s chair when it was time for me to brief and I stood at the foot of the table near the slide show only long enough for Binggum to get me completely in his sights. I then walked back to stand beside him at the head of the table for much of my briefing. I could tell that he was hooked because of the thorough once-over he gave me while I was near the slide screen and by the way his eyes were glued to my crotch as I came over beside him. The definitely male musk cologne I was wearing couldn’t have hurt. For most of my briefing, his eyes remained plastered to me rather than to the slides that were flipping at the front of the room.

Suddenly, Binggum became much more interested in CJ’s proposal and he asked fewer questions. By mid afternoon, he seemed irritated if anyone else in the room dared to ask a penetrating or complex question, and he finally just waved all of his people away and said he wanted to discuss the final details with CJ “and his staff” alone. When the room had cleared, I gave a meaningful look at CJ and then turned to Binggum and asked if I could use the nearby men’s room before we restarted the discussions. Binggum said that was a fine idea and that he’d also take a men’s room break. CJ said he was just fine, thank you very much, and would set up the next part of the briefing while we were gone.

Binggum ushered me to a very plush executive washroom right next to the conference room. I went up the bank of wash basins, while Binggum saddled up to a urinal. I was delighted to see that there were no barriers between the urinals.

“Oh, crap,” I muttered. “Is that I coffee stain, I see on my shirt.” I looked into the mirror and made like I saw some sort of stain on my shirt. Without another word, I took my coat off and hung it on a stall door, and then, turning three-quarters toward where Binggum was standing up to a urinal, his eyes glued to me, I slowly unbuttoned and peeled off my shirt and held it out to inspect it. I was fully aware that my biceps were rippling in the effort and that I was fully exposed down to a slight curl of pubic hair above my trousers.

I made a few clucking sounds and acted like I must just be wrong, that I couldn’t find any coffee stains on my shirt. But, rather than put it back on, I draped it on top of my coat on the stall door and slowly walked toward Binggum. I approached the bank of urinals and, leaving two urinals between us, I moved in toward one—but not too close. I again turned a bit so that Binggum would get a full view of the action. I unzipped my tight pants and peeled them down onto my hips. My underwear of choice that day was a black net sock jock, which I proceeded to pull off of my long, thick dick and tuck up under my balls. As an added little ornament, I was wearing a black leather cock ring with silver studs at the base of my cock and balls. I thought Binggum was going to wet all over himself when he saw that. And then I sent a nice long piss arcing across considerable distance into the urinal, arching my hips toward the urinal and my finely muscled chest back, with my hands on my butt cheeks. I smiled, closed my eyes, and gave a satisfied little sigh. When I was done and had flicked my dick several times to prevent seepage, I slowly walked back over to the stall, faced Binggum, and redressed. I was completely brazen about the whole maneuver. Binggum couldn’t help but have gotten the engraved invitation.

The subsequent private session between CJ, Binggum, and me could not have been shorter and Binggum could not have been more accommodating and congenial. When the last verbal agreement had been settled, Binggum said his secretary could type up the deal we’d struck, and we could sign it over dinner, if CJ and I would be willing to have dinner with Binggum in his ocean-side house that evening. CJ and I, of course, thought this would be a splendid idea.

Binggum went on ahead in a big, white stretch limousine, while CJ waited for the contracts to be typed and copied. I slipped off to the men’s room and exchanged my white shirt, tie, and suit jacket for a billowy cotton pullover peasant’s shirt with a deep slit down the front held together by a lacing and topped by a black leather vest. The shirt was opaque enough to show off my tanned chest and the tufts of hair that wound down from my neck, out and around my nipples, and then back together and down to my crotch. I then laced a pair of soft, black-leather chaps over my pants, brushed my teeth and my hair, and headed for the door.

While we were being driven over to Binggum’s house in a black limousine with smoked windows, CJ couldn’t resist doing a little bit of exploring of my body of his own with his hands and his lips, but he broke off before anything serious happened, as we both agreed that I had to be “up” exclusively for Binggum at least until the contracts had been signed.

Binggum met us at the door himself in a loosely fitting cotton lounge suit, and I was pleased to see his crotch tent out as soon as he saw me come through the door. We went into a large lounge area overlooking a nicely landscaped patio and pool as well as the ocean, and I sank into a mile-long sectional sofa facing the view. Immediately after we had been served the drink of our choice, CJ asked if there was somewhere he could change into something more casual, and Binggum fell all over himself helping CJ out of the room. That accomplished, Binggum scurried back, planted himself nearly on top of me, wrapped one arm around my shoulder, turned my head toward his with that hand, and looked pleadingly into my eyes.

“I’ve been waiting to get you alone like this all day,” he chirped.

“I’ve been looking forward to it myself, I said,” and gave him a million-dollar smile.

He moved his lips into mine, and ran his fingers into my hair, holding my head in place. My lips met his in a sweet kiss that became increasingly deep and crushing. I opened my lips to him and let his tongue in. I could feel his free hand on my chest, over a nipple, and then it slid through the lacings of my shirt front, snake through my chest hair, and found my other nipple. I felt his body shudder at the ecstasy of finally making skin-on-skin contact—as if before that moment I hadn’t been real. I took the initiative and forced his tongue out of my mouth with mine, and I invaded his inner space, probing. He shuddered again, and his free hand exited my shirt front and moved down to my crotch. He couldn’t get all that much satisfaction there other than to get my measure, because the leather pants held my dick tightly in place, but he’d already seen the goods, so there weren’t many surprises for him to have there short of finding out how far into a couple of his orifices it could go.

I moved up on my hip toward him, crossed with the arm he didn’t have locked in his embraced, and went directly for that tent he’d shown at the door in those loose cotton pants. I encased his engorging dick through his pants in my hand with a firm, authoritative grip and was pleased to find that he was fairly long and thick. He broke away from my lips with a little cry and looked deeply into my eyes with an expression of ecstasy and longing. He started fiddling with my belt buckle, but I took my hand away from his penis and gently pulled his hand away from what he was trying to do.

“No, not that. Not yet. That’s the main course, and that comes after dinner is eaten and the contracts are signed, not before.”

He gave me a disappointed look and started to speak, but I put my finger to his lips, and said, “That doesn’t mean there isn’t an appetizer, though. Just relax and give me full control.”

Then turning more toward him, I gently pushed him down on his back along the sectional, scooted up on the edge of the couch, and lifted his right leg up and over my head until it rested between my left side and the back of the sectional. His other leg was trailing down on the floor in front of my knees and his crotch was open to me. I gently pulled the tail of his shirt out of his pants, and, as I lowered my mouth unto the top of his dick as it pushed at the fabric of his pants, I ran my hands under his shirt tail and up the sides his well-toned torso and placed one hand over each of his nipples. I gently flicked at these with my fingers.

Binggum was giving little sighing sounds and moans and was moving his arms around over his face and down along my arms on top of his shirt as if he very much wanted to do something but couldn’t quite figure out what that was. I slowly gave him head through the cotton pants. He tried to move both of his legs, but I had one leg pinned against the back of the sofa and lifted my right leg over his other leg and then pinned that between both of mine. I could feel him starting to want to raise his torso, but I applied more pressure with my hands on his nipples, moved my hands up to his armpits, with my thumbs pressing below his shoulder blades, and, taking my mouth from his crotch, whispered. “I said relax. Just let me control.”

“Just let us control,” I heard CJ say from across the room. I looked up, and Binggum stretched his head back to look behind him at the sound of CJ’s voice. That big, magnificent, chocolate-brown man was leaning against the door into the room he had entered. He was outfitted in black, tight silk from an armless vest open in front down to below his navel, to tight black pants, with a bright red silk, bulging pouch at the crotch. When he’d made his dramatic entrance, he moved right over to where Binggum was stretched out, and deftly pulled Binggum’s shirt up and off his body. CJ sank down on his knees beside Binggum’s chest and gave the man a big grin.

“Hi, guy, long time no see,” CJ said with a laugh. Binggum laughed back, and CJ covered his grinning mouth in a big sloppy kiss. I left CJ to that area of activity and slowly brought my hands down along Binggum’s sides until they rested just above his hip bones and above the line of his cotton pants, fanned out up his sides. He was shuddering slightly like Jell-O. I took the tip of his dick back into my mouth through the cotton pants and took him in up to the rim of his glans like a mechanical shovel. He tried to reach down to me with his hands, but CJ took both of his arms in his strong hands, moved them over his head, and went exploring on Binggum’s ears, throat, nipples, and armpits and down to his navel with his tongue and teeth. Binggum was giving little yip, yip sounds, breathing in pants, and moaning. I was pretty sure he was getting his contract’s worth with this little appetizer.

Next thing I knew, one of CJ’s hands was slowly snaking down across Binggum’s chest and belly and had disappeared below the cotton pants line. I slowly took all of Binggum into my mouth, down toward the root, to discover that CJ had wrapped his thumb and finger around Binggum’s penis at the root and was applying pressure. And Binggum was responding by engorging further and arching his hips up. I sat up looked up toward Binggum’s head. CJ had his other hand buried in Binggum’s hair, keeping him from raising his chest. Binggum was running one hand up and down CJ’s back, under his silk vest and had his other one clutching alternately at CJ’s chest and crotch, unsuccessfully trying to find an entry through the tight silk.

Binggum looked down at me in dreamy ecstasy, and I smiled back at him. Taking the hem of his pants in both of my hands at the hips, I raised myself briefly, and slowly brought the pants down until his dick flopped out. Seeing that chocolate-brown flesh cock ring provided by CJ very nearly made me cream myself. I lowered my mouth to Binggum’s dick and gave his glans a tight suction kiss. While holding his glans in my mouth, I opened his piss hole with my tongue, an action that sent Binggum completely over the edge. He began flopping around and squirted cum. I had sensed he was coming, however, and had moved my mouth down to where my lips met CJ’s fingers, so that I was able to take in Binggum’s three eruptions without damaging the nap of the sofa.

Binggum flopped back on the sofa and threw his arms over his head with a deep sigh. I maintained my purchase on his dick while stripping him completely of his pants. I could feel CJ’s fingers leaving Binggum’s dick and continuing down to where he could play with Binggum’s balls. He went back to nibbling and tonguing on Binggum’s stomach, chest, and armpits and giving him deep kisses, and it wasn’t more than a few minutes before I could feel Binggum’s penis start coming to life again. After a few minutes, I felt Binggum give a jolt and I heard a little grunt from him, as much pain as pleasure. I turned my head and found that CJ had moved his arm and hand under Binggum’s ass and I could see a chocolate finger buried up to the knuckle in Binggum’s asshole. I watched in fascination, as the finger rotated and probed, and Binggum responded by wiggling his ass, making gasping sounds when CJ wasn’t kissing him, and regrowing his dick in my mouth.

I began to give him head, slowly at first and then faster. I moved a hand over his thigh to cup his balls and to roll and pull at them. One finger of that hand, though, I allowed to travel down even further until I could feel CJ’s knuckle, buried in Binggum’s hole. I heard a little sucking sound from below and grunt and moan from above, as CJ’s knuckle pulled down in Binggum’s hole and gave my finger purchase to enter the cavern. CJ and I got a little, slow piston rhythm going, whereby he pushed in as I retracted my finger and then I pushed in up to the knuckle as he pulled out. Then we changed the pattern, both going in up to the knuckle and rimming around the canal wall, opening the hole wider. A second of CJ’s fingers worked its way into the hole and then a second of mine. Binggum was panting and rotating his butt in rhythm with ours. CJ permitted him to rise up on his haunches and watch me giving him head. he took my head in his hands, and I let him guide me; back and forth, up and down, slowly down and up, and then a plunge to the root. We now had three fingers each in Binggum’s hole, and his tunnel was opening wide. He’d obviously done a lot of this before.

CJ pulled his fingers out and rose to his feet in one languid move. He stood there, looking down at us. He had Binggum’s full attention, and I could see him out of the corner of my eye, as well. His hands slid down his body and met at his crotch. He reached into the folds of the material unbuttoned his red silk pouch, and out popped his gigantic tool. He moved his hand back to the coffee table and picked up a small tube and pushed out a large dab of salve, which he proceeded to rub into his cock, from route to tip, leaving both Binggum and me with the impression that he might be masturbating himself to climax for our entertainment.

Binggum was watching him in fascination laced with trepidation and doubt. His hands left my head, and I held his dick in check, and my hand went back to cupping his balls. Binggum reached out for CJ’s cock, but CJ playfully slapped his hands away and came down onto the sofa behind him on his knees. I moved around to the side and went down on my knees on the floor, freeing Binggum’s leg. CJ reached over and took a pillow from the back of the couch, lifted Binggum’s hips, stuffed the pillow under and up to Binggum’s hipline so that his butt was suspended in the air, and lifted both of Binggum’s legs over his shoulders. Binggum was propping himself up on his elbows, getting as good a look over my head of what CJ was doing as possible. CJ slowly walked into Binggum’s butt on his knees. I moved my hand back down to Binggum’s asshole and stretched the rim. I could feel CJ’s cockhead flopping against Binggum’s ass and my fingers. Binggum was moaning again and giving little shudders of anticipation. I took CJ’s cock in my hands and guided his glans to Binggum’s asshole. CJ bellied in closer, and I helped push the head of his cock further into the hole. Binggum moaned a quiet “No,” and started to reach down with his hand. But I collapsed his other elbow prop, and he fell back onto the sofa, as CJ glided several inches into the hole. I ran my hand up Binggum’s stomach and chest and held him down with my hand just below the Adam’s apple. He probably could have fought me off, but he was getting what he wanted—much more of a appetizer than I thought we’d give him—so he just played at struggling, playing the powerless rape victim.

“Oh, Man, that’s nice,” CJ said in a husky voice. “I remember this ass. This is such a nice ass. I’d never forget it.” I thought maybe CJ was laying this lust for a customer thing on a bit thick, but I was sure that Binggum was loving it. I took my mouth from Binggum’s dick and moved it up his stomach to his nipples, where I gave him some lovin and rimming. I left his dick encased in my hands, though, and was keeping track of how close to shooting off for a second time he was coming. I turned my head and lay it on Binggum’s chest and watched CJ go to work. And work he did. At first I could see him coming in closer on Binggum, and I could tell by Binggum’s grunts that CJ was slowly moving deeper. But he must have reached an impasse of some sort, because he took hold of Binggum’s legs and pulled them wide. He got in a little further after that, I think, but he was looking a little perturbed. Suddenly however, he just plunged all the way in. Binggum gave a little scream, flopped around, and huskily cried, “Oh God, please save me. He’s splitting me,” to me.

“Shush, shush,” I responded. “This is just an appetizer, you know. I’m actually bigger, you know.” And then I took his lips into a deep kiss. He took my head in his hands, and concentrated on the kiss. I could feel him relaxing, and I also could feel his head moving up and down. I looked around. CJ was slowly pumping him, putting his whole body into motion. In a little. Out. In half way. Out to nearly the tip, and then a slow plunge down to the root. Out again, followed by a quick deep thrust.

I sat back on my haunches, watching in fascination. Binggum was flopping around again, but his frightened—or feigned—no’s had turned into yes, yes, yes.

Then CJ showed what a magnificent athlete he was. Pulling Binggum’s legs back over his shoulder, he locked his hands behind Binggum’s back and stood up in the sofa, bearing Binggum’s entire weight. he stepped down off the sofa, moved over to a corner where the wall met the sliding windows, pushed Binggum up against the wall and started pumping deep and hard.

Binggum was whimpering, turning his eyes toward me, and whisper, “Save me, save me. This monster is going to split me apart. This big, black stud is killing me. This can’t be a dick; it’s got to be a baseball bat.” I wasn’t having any of that, however. Binggum was having a ball. Supporting Binggum on one arm, CJ reached around and took Binggum’s dick in his big mitt and pumped and pumped and pumped. With a scream of joy, Binggum came for the second time. Squirting his cum up onto CJ’s heaving chest. The silk vest had opened wide, so that most of the load just mixed with the sweat on CJ’s chest and made his body glisten in the light reflected through the glass off the ocean and the pool. Binggum buried his hands in CJ’s chest and his face into CJ’s throat.

CJ just held him there for a few minutes and then gave a little jerk. “Hey, you bastard, no biting.”

Then CJ pulled away from the wall and frog marched Binggum over to a wood-topped desk. With a sweep of his hand, he pushed everything off the desk top and pushed Binggum down on his back on the cold surface. Holding him down with one mitt in the center of his chest, CJ spread one of Binggum’s knees up and out.

“A little help here?” he asked me, and I walked over and took the other leg and push it up and out, bent at the knee. “Surfacing submarine maneuvers,” he said, and I figured out immediately what he was going to do. I moved my other hand over and circled Binggum’s asshole and CJ’s buried cock, giving CJ and more visible target.

Binggum was moaning. “What, What? What are you going to do?”

“This,” CJ answered, and with a great slurping sound, he pulled his cock all the way out of Binggum in one smooth glide. He brought his mouth down on Binggum’s cock and slid all the way down on it twice, in two swift motions. Binggum was engorging again, and voicing little, “Oh, oh, ohs.” Then CJ raised up again, reared his butt cheeks back, and, in perfect targeting, entered and buried his cock up to the hilt. Binggum screamed and jerked. CJ pulled all of the way back, reared his butt back again and then thrust forward again, pushing Binggum further up on the desk top with the furry of his motion. Binggum moaned and jerked again. Binggum’s head was bouncing off the wall, and he had to lift his hands up to the wall to cushion the blows. CJ lowered his mouth and swallowed Binggum’s rising cock again in one swift motion, then again, and then a third time. This was followed by three swift, deep thrusts by the battering ram. Then a series of four. Binggum’s screams of pleasure were overriding his yelps of pain now.

“Get the pattern?” CJ asked through clinched teeth.

“Oh, yes, yes. God you’re good. God, god, fuck me. Fuck me harder. It’s been so long since I’ve had it this good.”

“Now for a change of pace,” CJ said. Here, help me turn him. And there, on the desk, we rotated Binggum around CJ’s buried cock so that he was face down. He held Binggum down on the tabletop with one hand in the center of his back and held one leg out to the side, while I held the other. And then CJ began to rotate his hips in a revolving motion that stretched Binggum’s ass even further and moved CJ’s dick around Binggum’s ass rim.

Binggum was moaning in pleasure, and he brought his hands back and spread his butt cheeks himself.

“Join me?” CJ asked after a series of varied-rhythm pumpings.

“I really shouldn’t,” I answered. “This was only supposed to be the appetizer. I’m supposed to be the main course, after the papers are signed.”

“But you can’t resist, can you?” CJ responded with a laugh. “I don’t think we need to worry about spoiling the main course or about the papers needing to be signed, do we, Love?” CJ lowered himself on Binggum and nuzzled his face into his neck.

“No,” Binggum gasped. “Do it. You know you promised me a double the next time we did business, and I’ve never been this open before.”

“Well, OK, I said, but don’t look. The strip is part of the main course.” I walked over to where Binggum couldn’t see me, no matter how he strained to do so and stripped off my chaps, my pants, and my net sock jock. The freedom it brought felt good. I’d had a hard on for what seemed to be forever, and the net had been chafing me.

As I pulled the jock off, I could hear CJ take in a gulp of breath. “God, you’re beautiful, he said. I didn’t know you could get so big.”

“What?” Binggum asked. “What’s happening? What did you say?”

“Just that you’re a very, very lucky piece of ass,” CJ said, with a chuckle.

I went over to the coffee table, took a big glob of ointment, and rubbed my dick down with it. It felt cool, and I found it had a numbing agent of the skin but something that increased the sensitivity of the glans. This was going to be fun. I walked back over to the desk, approaching from the rear so that Binggum couldn’t see me, my big, long tool freely flopping in the air.

“This might be tricky,” I said as I approached. “Got any ideas?”

“Piece of cake,” CJ answered. I can crouch forever. You can have top.” With that, CJ crouched down, but his chest went back rather than forward and he had his weight balanced on the toes and balls of his massive feet. His dick went down to the bottom of Binggum’s asshole and retracted several inches as he crouched, and I could see what looked like a good bit of room open on top. I came up between CJ and Binggum’s butt, CJ pulled out of the hole until only his glans had purchase, and I threw my leg over the space between the two men. CJ was crouched down far enough that I could easily stand between them, my butt cheeks cuddled into CJ’s stomach and my dick running up Binggum’s butt crack. I gave him a couple of strokes there for effect.

Binggum shuddered with pleasure and had both of his hands running down my dick from glans to root before I could do anything about it. His hands began to shake when he discovered I was still wearing the cock ring he’d seen in the men’s room back at the office. But then he squeezed it in a sign of approval.

This show was for him, so I left him to it for a moment. Then I said, “You might want to get back to spreading those cheeks again, at least at first, if you know what’s good for you.”

Binggum complied, and I lifted myself up a bit and guided the tip of my dick down to where it rested on top of where CJ’s dick was positioned just inside the entrance. CJ was pulled back so that when I came back down, my dick was laying along atop his. His was a bit thicker and longer, but neither of us had any reason to be ashamed. I moved both of my hands down and encased our cocks into one unit. I held them there for a moment, my cock still rising, CJ’s ramrod straight and strong. Then I undid the studded leather cock ring that had been nestled at my root, flipped it open from where it had been doubled up, wrapped it around our combined cocks, and fastened it again. A tremor went through CJ’s body, his cock hardened a bit further, and he gave a little sigh and buried his head into my neck and nibbled along the artery pumping blood up into my head. My blood began to boil. I turned my head, and we kissed. Binggum was giving little pants of anticipation. I removed one of my hands and pushed his free leg up and out again.

And then, with me snuggled into his stomach, CJ slowly started to moved forward and upward. A little thrill of sensation flashed through my glans as I felt it moving into Binggum’s tunnel, largely under CJ’s power. I wondered if there could possibly be room, but then there we were both in up to the rim of our glans. Binggum continued panting and giving little mewing sounds. CJ’s and my kiss lingered and we opened our mouths to each other. CJ pushed us in a couple of more inches and then stopped and gently rocked back and forth, waiting for Binggum to open more. A couple of more inches and then if felt like we could go in for miles, and so CJ pushed us right in up to the hilt.

My free hand no longer had any dick to hold, so I lowered it and found Binggum’s dick and balls. I played with the balls briefly and then began slowly milking Binggum’s dick. Binggum, very happy with himself, was giving little moans of pleasure and informing the world that he had done it; he had taken in two of the world’s largest and most luscious dicks.

I could feel the change in CJ. The master of holding it was not far from giving up his load. I could feel that Binggum was loading up for another shot as well. I willed myself to time my load and Binggum’s shot to match CJ’s. CJ helped by losing control. He began to pump, and I had no control over that myself. His dick was supporting mine and he was providing the thrust from the rear with his massive thighs and calves. In. Out by a third and dive. Out by half and plunge, Out nearly all of the way and a deep thrust that was extended by a flood of CJ’s cum. Then another spurt, and then a third, accompanied by my first, and then another by all three of us, simultaneously that caused us to yell with pleasure in harmony, one well-oiled extraordinary fucking machine. Having cum before, Binggum’s effort was short-lived, but CJ and I bathed him all the way up to his eyeballs in our sperm.

When I was sure that CJ’s legs must be about to give out, I stood up full, unfastened the cock ring, withdrew from Binggum, gave him a little pat on the butt cheek, and moved off to the side.

“Take your pants into the other room and clean yourself up,” CJ said, as he held Binggum in place with his buried rod. “There’s a bathroom in there. Don’t let him see you yet.”

I picked up my clothes and headed for the room, but I turned at the door in time to see CJ gently pull an exhausted Binggum up off the table and fold him to his chest with his arms under Binggum’s knees and move to the sofa and slowly sink down into a double fetal position without losing the sausage-in-the-bun position. Binggum was being very quiet.

To Be Continued.


###

146 Gay Erotic Stories from Habu

Angled Entries 1: Big Balling

Angled Entries 1: Big Balling [Author’s Note: This series follows on from “Dueling Regeneration” of the Philippe LeCroix short story series.] Chas Angle strutted down the stairs of his new plantation house, gathered his extra-long sweat shirt around his waist, climbed onto his cycle, and roared off down the long driveway on his way to the Hornet’s basketball stadium in downtown New Orleans.

Angled Entries: Painted Laddie

When Ms. Elisha came off the stage at the Bourbon Street female impersonators’ club and swished into her dressing room, Chas Angle was waiting for her. The meta hunk had worn a muscle shirt barely covering the superhuman bulges of his torso and a silky pair of shorts that barely held the bulge of his twelve thick inches. So, when he asked her if she’d come pose for him for photos, her quick

Angled Entries: Hard Decisions

Years and then more than a decade went by with nothing much happening in Philippe LeCroix's rotting plantation house on the Mississippi beyond the dust accumulating and the oaken walls drying out and spitting. Chas Angle still held his mentor and tormentor in his bed chamber on the second floor of the mansion, shackled to his bed, and rejuvenating himself only when Chas brought him young men to

At the Reservoir

I take three- to five-mile hikes about twice weekly. I have five nearby nature trails I rotate through (in addition to a few more urban walks). The park I went to recently—at the town's reservoir—has been on the Internet for years as a male pickup spot, although the police seemed to have stopped that a few years ago, I thought—and the pickup spots (the restrooms and an old barn) aren't near where

Azores Assignation

Edgar steadied himself against the bulkhead as the wake of a passing yacht sent his own ship to wallowing and scraping against the dock. He was hunched over the sink in the closely confined space, space being at a premium even in a Latitude 44 such as he’d sailed from Marseilles to the harbor town of Horta on Azores’ Faial Island. He believed that he could find exactly what he wanted here, and

Back Where . . .

I rolled over in the bed, reaching for Esteban, but he wasn’t there, setting off in me a mild zing of irritation. He’d gone to sleep last night while I was fucking him and now he wasn’t there at all in the morning. This brought the decision I had to make back to mind and was, perhaps, yet another nail in the decision—two decisions actually. I had an opportunity to head up the Radio y Televisión

Beautiful Bondage

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

Being Fussy

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.

Bermuda Triangle

“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

Beyond the Beaded Curtain

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

Biloxi Renewal

\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

Bite of the Schlange

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

Cast Party

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

Chain Gang Banged

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.

Chain Gang Banged

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.

Chaz's Choice

“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.

Cockpitting

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

Congo Drums

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

Creamy Thighs

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

Dagger Through the Moon

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

Dangerous Experiment

[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

Deal Closer, Part 1

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

Deal Closer, Part 2

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

Deal Closer, Part 3

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

Director's Couch

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

Do You Trust Me?

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

Doubling Bets

(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

Dueling Regeneration

[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,

Egyptian Ram

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

Eight- and Nine-Inch Drills

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

Elementary, Snidely

“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

Elusive

I waited until we'd almost reached Miami's airport, but I couldn't leave it here.

Emmet

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

Enticingly Unnaked

“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

Ernestine

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

Ethiopian Cabin Boy

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

Family Day on the Pool Table

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

First Threesome

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

Firsts With An Indian Magician

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

Friday Nights with Lenny

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

Garden District Plunge

[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

Getting . . . Educated, Conclusion

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

Getting . . . Educated, Part 1

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

Getting . . . Educated, Part 10

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

Getting . . . Educated, Part 12

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

Getting . . . Educated, Part 13

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

Getting . . . Educated, Part 14

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

Getting . . . Educated, Part 15

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

Getting . . . Educated, Part 2

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

Getting . . . Educated, Part 3

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

Getting . . . Educated, Part 4

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

Getting . . . Educated, Part 5

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

Getting . . . Educated, Part 6

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

Getting . . . Educated, Part 7

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

Getting . . . Educated, Part 8

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;

Getting . . . Educated, Part 9

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,

Getting. . . Educated, Part 11

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

Gotta Keep This Job

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

Handed On

“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

Harmony and Dissonance

“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

Harvesting In The Park

[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

Highballing

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

Iced

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

Iced Flip Side

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

Into the Dark

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

Israeli Assault

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

Joggered

“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

Kasem's Kitchen

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

Last Rodeo

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

Late Night Workout

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

Legend of Cowboy

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

Like Father Like Son

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

Locker Room Revelation

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

Loving Wife

“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

Master of the Boardroom

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

Mentoring

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

Nailed By Obsession

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

Natchez Refreshment

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

Naval Dilemma

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

Neighbor's Hot Tub

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

New Master at Riverbend

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

New Orleans Rejuvenation

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,

No More Evening Shifts

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.

Norwegian Stallion

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

Nuclear Meltdown

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

On a String in Bangkok

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

On The Roof

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

On The Trail

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

Only a Custodian

“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

Pay-as-You-Go Hitching

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

Pianoman

“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

Picking the First Fruit

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

Pirated

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

Porn War

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

Reconnected Recovery

[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

Remembering Miles

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

Renewal of Passion

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.

Rest Stop

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

Resting a Demon

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

Ride Em Cowboy

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

Rude Awakening

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

Sacrificed by Curiosity

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

Sacrificed by Curiosity, Part 1

* * * 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

Sacrificed by Curiosity, Part 2

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

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

Sailors and Flyboys

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

Satin Circus

(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,

Satin Sleigh Ride

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

Satisfaction Ashram

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

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

Snaked on Anjajavy Beach

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

Snow Trap

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

Snowy, Snowy Nights

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

Solicitous Service

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

Someday My Prince Will . . .

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

Sweet Sanjay

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

Swimming Lessons

“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

Ten Slash Two

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

That One Exception

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

The Awakening

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

The Caregiver

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

The Celtic Sonata of Life

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

The Clothes Horse

“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

The Commander

“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?”

The Compassionate Reporter

“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

The Cure

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

The Darling

“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 Day the Earth Moved

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

The Netotiator

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

The Thunderstorm

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

The Video List

“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

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

To Die in Madeira

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

Training Asu

“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

Trip Money

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

Trucker Bait

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, 1

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

Trunk Of The Car, Part 2

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

Trunk Of The Car, Part 3

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.

Trunk Of The Car, Part 4

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

Trunk Of The Car, Part 5

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

Trunk Of The Car, Part 6

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

Turkish Delight Times Six

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

Two Men in a Dungeon

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

Wrong Choice

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

Zonked

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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