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lukepreston Member Since October 19, 2009

The Greek Dad

lukepreston on Gay Stories

The place I had rented for two weeks was private in all respects. It was high up towards the top of an ancient village, surrounded by empty land and ruins and concealed by a walled courtyard. Just right for nude sunbathing and wandering around naked. I was taking a year out from college to explore some of the world and had gotten as far as this remote Greek island before deciding to stop for longer than just one night. As soon as I’d got off the ferry I was approached by an army of locals waving signs advertising rooms to rent and it was easy to fin

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d one I wanted. I headed straight for the only girl among the touts. Dark haired, slim and with welcoming eyes she asked me quietly if I needed somewhere to stay. She told me it was high up, away from the tourists and that it was cheap. The remoteness sounded inviting to me and I imagined her visiting to make the beds, maybe staying after to unmake them with me too, if you see what I mean.

              Then she introduced me to her father and she passed me over to him as if I was a bag of shopping. Before I had a chance to flirt or even ask her name, she was back into the crowd of new arrivals touting for business again. The father grunted something at me in Greek and indicated a truck. As I started to climb up into the back with my rucksack he took my luggage from me and lifted it in as if it weighed nothing. I was mainly full of college books I had yet to read and they weighed a ton. Before he could give me the same treatment I scrambled in, afraid that if he lifted me in his grip I’d be crushed. He was at least six foot, about forty five years old I’d say judging from the flecks of grey in his moustache, but his muscles practically ripped his shirt as he manoeuvred my rucksack into the flat bed.

            I smiled as best I could, already worrying about where he was going to take me, and what he might do. I’m pretty tough, I work out and play football, but there was no way I could defend myself against the father should he turn nasty.

            But I needn’t have worried. He drove me up through an enchanting village, honking his horn at the locals and waving from the cab. He seemed pleasant enough, and when we reached the house he was as charming as you could wish for. He showed me around, agreed the very low price his daughter had promised, and told me that he could always be found in the village if I needed anything.

            Two days later I ran out of water. I had got to know my way around by then and had no trouble tracking him down in the village. I explained that the tap had suddenly run dry and asked what I could do about it. He told me, in broken English, that the house occasionally had this problem but it required him to come and fix it. He would come up in the afternoon, if I could manage until then. We made an arrangement that I would leave the front door open and he could let himself in. He’d only need about ten minutes to do something with the water pump outside and then he’d be off, shutting the doors behind him so I’d know he had been.

            That sorted I went back to the house to collect my things for the beach. It was September, the weather was still hot and, coming from the cold climbs of North Yorkshire, I was not used to such heat. It drained my body, emptied me of moisture and, since being in Greece, had led me to understand why the locals took siestas in the hottest part of the day. By the time I’d returned to the house and packed my beach bag it was just after noon and my body was weary. The beach was a mile away and by foot, at that time of day, was a hard slog to get to and from.

            I decided that I would go later. Right then I needed a sleep. I could wake up feeling refreshed later in the afternoon and the heat would have died a little. I threw my soaked tee shirt onto the chair and flopped onto the bed. Remembering that the landlord might call I decided to keep my shorts on. He shouldn’t need to come into the bedroom but just in case…

            Before long, drowsiness came over me and I felt myself drifting. Far away I could just make out the sound of birds chattering, a goat bleating somewhere on the mountain above and the occasional vehicle passing in the valley far below. Through approaching sleep my mind flashed up images of the daughter wading out of the cool sea, her hair falling long across her shoulders, water dripping from her breasts and running in little streams down her soft, naked flesh. My cock was pressing against the bed beneath me but it would have to wait until I woke up. Maybe I’d have more dreams of her as I slept and would wake with new images I could recall when I beat myself off later.

            I don’t know what I dreamt about but whatever it was, it was interrupted by a sound from the next room. I didn’t jump up in panic, I knew it would only be the dad come to fix the water and allowed myself to remain in that half sleep where you know what is going on around you but couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it. Almost paralysed in a numb, contented way. And then I drifted back into afternoon dreams.

            I heard breathing in the room; someone was standing behind me, over me and watching me. I heard a quiet cough and ignored it. It was o.k. Only the landlord letting me know he’d finished and was leaving. I heard the rustle of material and a gentle clatter of a belt buckle. The dull thud of boots being kicked off and discarded. More breathing and then the sound of clothing being dropped to the floor.

            The mattress beneath me moved as if someone was putting weight on it and I dipped slightly to one side, and then the other. Someone was kneeling at the foot of the bed. But dreams are meant to be like this I thought; real and yet safe. New experiences happen in dreams and, because they’re not real it doesn’t matter. I drifted further into the comfort of sleep feeling only a presence behind me and security that I was in safe hands.

            Hands that touched the soles of my feet and slid them to one side, parting my legs gently, and allowing cool air to explore around the tops of my legs where my football shorts hung soft and silky around my thighs. Cooling air that dried the sweat gathering behind my knees and chilled my flesh. I felt my ankles get taken in large rough skinned, wide hands that gripped just tightly enough to pin my legs to the bed. And the hands started to slide upwards, gently massaging my muscles, sending me further into nowhere land and sending shivers of pleasure through my sleeping body. They reached the back of my knees and a strong finger pressed into the flesh there. I’d never felt a sensation like that before, either asleep or awake and it felt good. A stronger, tougher finger joined it and made small circles, all the time pressing and massaging.

            And then I felt the hands slide further up until they gripped my upper legs, just below my shorts. The tips of the rough fingers slid in under the material and played on me, one after the other in a slow rhythm, pressing one at a time in sequence. The hands started kneading me there; a little more pressure was applied as they moved higher up under the material until they pressed on the bottom of my cheeks, sliding to the sides as if to feel everything that was there. The hair on the back of my legs was standing up now, something was telling me that this dream was going in the wrong direction and that I should wake up. But another part of me was being lulled, hypnotised by the gentle stroking of rough hands, sending me further into a place I’d never been before and I was enjoying it.

            My shorts were being taken down. My cock, still rock hard, was pressing its circumcised head against the waste band, caught there as the shorts were dragged away. My arse lifted of its own accord, freeing my cock and allowing the shorts to be removed completely. I felt the hands start at my ankles again, slowly sliding up the back of my legs until they held one cheek apiece. There they paused, holding my arse in a strong, not to be resisted, grip.

            Something made me part my legs further. I don’t know if I did that or if the unseen dream-force moved them but they spread. And I knew that the hands were spreading the crack of my arse and opening it to the afternoon air and allowing the unseen visitor to get a full view of my flesh, my light blonde hair covering the white, smooth skin that gave way to a darker recess where my tight hole was now being watched.

            And then these big hands were on my sides, holding me by the hips as two powerful thumbs rolled and massaged my arse cheeks, pulling me open and then pushing me closed as I felt myself being lifted from the bed. This inside of my legs brushed against something else, something new. I felt coarse hairs scrape at my skin as I was pulled back and up, felt hard muscles against my inner thigh while all the time the vice like grip that controlled me allowed no resistance, and yet the grip was gentle and careful.

            I realised something. Through my sleep I knew what was going on and I knew that I should wake up. But I also knew that it was too late. I stood no chance of escape even if I was awake. Asleep I could imagine that this was still a dream and that this was not happening.

            But when I felt breath on my arse cheeks I knew it was happening. I kept my eyes closed and I kept still. Allowing him, as it was definitely a him, to do whatever he was going to do. It didn’t matter; I was asleep so this was not happening.

            The breath suddenly became warm and moist and I felt the rough hair of a moustache above a pair of soft lips. I was being kissed, first on one side and then the other. The hands had drawn me up to a face, my balls hung free in the air and my cock stuck out into the empty space beneath me. And I felt the kisses turn to licking, a smooth, hot tongue was drooling across the light furriness of my backside, pausing now and then to kiss. And to take a gentle bite. Teeth in a powerful jaw dug into me just enough to tell me that resistance would lead to pain; compliance would result in something more rewarding. I could not resist. I knew who this was and I had seen his strength. I realised that asleep or awake I belonged to the dad now, and that was that.

            My thoughts were interrupted. The mouth and the moustache had moved, centred in on my crack, right at the top. And they were now moving downwards. My heart raced, I knew where he was going. My crack was pushed wide by the rough stubbled chin and the heat from its scratching was intensified by the heat from the mouth that licked and bit as it pushed harder against me. Until I felt something press against my hole. It clamped up tight, nothing had touched it before and its reaction was instinctive. I felt something wet and hard jab at it, a tongue, but still it resisted.

            Until the tongue stopped jabbing and its action became one slow, gentle, wet push. In a circular motion it nudged cautiously against the tight puckered flesh of my hole, teasing it, tempting it to give in. My heart raced on, knowing that I wanted to give in but not knowing how to make my body obey. And then I stopped worrying. I realised that my body would obey, it had no choice but to give in to the tough, experienced action of the older body that controlled it. And once I realised that I felt my sphincter relax and his tongue slid into me.

            I couldn’t help but moan as I felt the heat and force of that tongue as it tickled my insides. Parts of me that had never been touched before reacted to his probing and sent signals to my brain. I pushed back, my body pushed back, of its own accord, wanting now to see what it felt like to have him reach further up into me. His stubble rubbed against me, between my arse and my balls and my flesh there burned red hot as it scraped. Above his hot mouth his moustache pricked at me and his nose dug into the top of my crack. And all the time his hands held my hips and his fingers plied at my inexperienced flesh.

            I don’t know how long he kept his tongue in me, how long he feasted on my innocent arse with his mouth, but I knew that I didn’t want him to stop. Not until my cock, now painful, had spat and emptied my balls. But his mouth released me and my hole contracted as his tongue slipped out. My insides felt wet, warm and for the first time I was aware of what lay within me. But the grip on my hips did not lessen. Instead it pulled me higher, lifting my arse up and towards the furriness of the man who knelt behind me.

            Up until I pressed against his hairy flesh and felt the downy hair of my arse tangle with the coarse fleece of the older man’s strong thighs. And then something was lying against my crack. Something solid, thick and awesome rested there. And something soft and large swung against my balls. I felt his balls touch mine, sending a sliver of electricity up and into my cock head. They felt so huge against me and I felt so inadequate, immature, inexperience. I did not know what to do but I knew that he did, and that was o.k. He would take care of me.

            Our balls rubbed together, his firming up while mine hung low and heavier with the juice that was gathering there. His hips circled, pressed and the solid shaft of meat that lay heavy against my arse slipped up and down through my crack. Each time it slipped a little lower and each time his thumbs pulled back on my cheeks, opening them a fraction further. Until I could feel his hard shaft press against my moist hole, teasing it as it slid over it, dragging his big balls with it until they brushed over my sphincter and his cock head dribbled dampness on the small of my back. And then down again until his balls rubbed against mine and the sticky, hot head of his cock touched my hole for the first time.

            His thumbs parted my cheeks, spreading them wider then ever before, and his hands gripped my hips with more force. His cock head pressed into my tight hole and I willed it to open up and allow this man inside. It resisted, he pressed harder, I felt his wet cock head open my hole a fraction. His cock felt like a steel bar as it pushed against my resistance. I tried to relax. He tried to enter. My arse resisted. But it lost the battle.

            With a gut wrenching, searing hot scream my sphincter was forced open and the thick mass of flesh pushed its way in. My hole tried to tighten but only made itself tighter for him. Now his head was in, there was no stopping him. My resistance spurned him on and he entered me with one slow, endless push that drove the wind from my lungs and the pain from my arse.

            I felt his balls bang up against mine and felt him rest there. My heart raced on my body adjusted to the pain. He took a pause; my breathing calmed and my muscles relaxed. All the way up inside of me I could feel the thick, pulsating shaft of the man’s cock and I gripped it, tightened my sphincter around it and then let it relax. Doing this gave me back some control and my body quickly learned that this was o.k. I didn’t need to resist anymore. He was in me and I was his.

            He started to draw it out of me, I felt his swollen head drag back along my insides, sliding along the lining until the ridge of the head pulled back against the inside of my sphincter. But there was no release, he did not leave. Instead he drove back down on me again, pushing himself back to the hilt and ramming against something inside of me that shot stabs of pleasure to my cock and made it jerk. And then he was pulling back again, all the time his strong hands held me around the waist and his powerful thumbs pummelled my soft cheeks. He thrust back in and his balls slapped up against mine with such force that I felt them bounce painfully. And the force of his thrust lifted up my hips, pressed my head deeper into the mattress.

            And then his hands moved. He had me pinned to the bed, my arse up in the air and my cock hanging free beneath. He grabbed my chest with both hands, gripping me in a bear hug from behind and, with a low growl, pulled me up and back into his lap.

            I could not control the noise I made then as I felt myself fall back, impaled on his spear of a cock as he sat me on him. It felt like his shaft would reach into my chest as I felt my arse spread wider and his cock buried itself deeper than it had so far. His arms wrapped around my chest and for the first time I opened my eyes. I saw his hairy forearms, thick with muscles, strong and dark. The hands that had held me were huge, fingers long and the skin rough. But they were protecting me. He rested me there, pressed me against his broad, hairy chest and kissed the back of my neck. I could feel his heart pound through his ribcage and knock against me, could feel his furry chest brush against the smoothness of my back and I felt safe.

            Safe enough to lift myself up until his cock was once again only just inside of me. And then I slid down on it, controlling the speed, letting myself get fucked at my own pace. Felt him enter all the way until my balls, tiny in comparison, were pushing down on his. And then I wriggled a little, with him buried inside me, squeezed my sphincter, learning how to give him pleasure before I lifted again, and then sat slowly down on that arse splitting tool and swallowing all of him inside me.

            He let me do this a few more times before he remembered he was in charge. He bent me back on the bed, on all fours and pulled himself right out of me without warning. My hole snapped shut and I gasped. Before I had a chance to realise what he was doing he had spun me around, dragged my legs over his and lifted me up. My cock rubbed against the hair on his chest and then his stomach as he held me beneath the arms, lowered me down until his cock head was touching my hole again. And then, as if he was simply putting me down, he slid me over his shaft. He continued to hold me under my arms as if I was a dummy and used all of my body to wank himself with. Lifting me up without effort and then dropping me sharply onto his cock. Each drop down sent a spurt of pleasure up inside me, made me grunt, made my balls slap against the thick bush of fur that matted at the base of his shaft. I had to hold onto him, my arms fell around his neck and I clawed at his iron-like shoulders. His hands slipped up and around my back so that we were hugging, and still he gripped me, slid his hands down to my hips again and lifted me from there.

            Lifted me up the full length of his shaft until his head was almost out of me. Then pushed me down again so that my insides were filled with his thick, swollen man cock, his huge head pushing against something inside of me that sent new sensations to my cock. My balls tightened further now, almost vanished inside of me as my cock started to itch deep down below. He lifted me, slammed me onto him, lifted, slammed, impaled me, faster and harder each time. I clung onto his back and smelled the sweat that now poured from him, felt his damp hairy chest slither against mine, felt his vice like grip on my waist as he pounded me. My knees gripped tighter around his solid body as I was slammed down onto him in a quickening rhythm.

            He grew even fatter inside of me, his cock threatened to rip my insides and he started to grunt. His face pressed into my shoulder, his nails digging into my sides. My cock rubbed against his bushy stomach, harder, rougher, getting sore, getting close. He lifted, pounded, and used my slight young body to wank his thick, dark cock. I clawed at his fur; he dug into my smooth skin as he slammed me down.

            And then he just held me there, pushed my hips down onto his lap, kept me there as my balls gave up and started to release the juice that they had been building up. His face pushed mine off his shoulder; he looked me in the eyes. His mouth clamped down against mine and he bit on my lips. His tongue forced its way into me as my cum forced its way out of me. I felt it slip through my cock and spurt out into the dark hairs on his stomach. I felt it jerk against his older flesh and splatter him. And, at the same time I felt his cock swell inside of me, well and then jerk. He grunted into my mouth, pressed me into him, grabbed my arse with both of his hands and pulled my arse cheeks so wide I could feel the skin stretch. His tongue thrashed around in my mouth and his cock exploded deep in my gut. A hot wave of cum hit me deep inside, I felt it sear against my flesh in there, it almost winded me. And then another, stretching my guts as it fought for space inside my tightly packed hole. I spurted onto his furry chest again, and he shot another load up my smooth insides. His hips convulsed, thrust up to me as another spurt splattered out and into me, and my balls spat out over him once more. I cried out, tears starting to drip from my screwed up eyes, I heard him growl, felt him shake as he pressed me down around he soaked cock that was blasting within. My grip on him tightened, I hugged him, felt the strength in his back as he jerked again and again.

            My insides burned with the heat form his juice and from the rough pounding he had given me. My cock still ached but it was empty now. It pressed against his wet, hairy stomach, spent and useless as his jerking subsided. His kisses became more gentle, his grunting calmed and our bodies started to relax.

            He held me. I kept my eyes closed. He lifted me gently from him and I could feel his juice seeping from my battered hole. He sat me down, pushed me gently back and stretched out my legs. I felt my cock fall soft and wet against my stomach, felt my balls, now emptied, slip back down to hang beneath. He took my ankles, turned me and returned me to my front.

            He ran a solid, rough palm across my arse cheeks, gripped one and shook it. Slapped it gently. And then I felt the tickle of his moustache as he kissed me there.

            And then he was gone. I felt a weight lift from the bed and heard a quick rustle of clothing, the clatter of a belt buckle and the soft shutting of the bedroom door.

            I lay there, drifting in and out of sleep. My arsehole burned and dribbled, my insides were wet, the flesh around my hips was sore and roughened and my cock head throbbed painfully. And the last sensation I remember before I drifted back to sleep was the brush of his moustache against my smooth cheek.

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Punished By The Police

lukepreston on Gay Stories

God I was tired. I had been to a late night cruise bar in the hope of picking someone up, but some nights it seems to be just the same old faces. Uninteresting ones at that. I got really bored so downed my last pint, got in my car and started on the fifty minute drive home. It was the end of the week and I’d gone out straight from work, bringing my ‘overnight gear’ with me in case I got lucky, and I had been drinking steadily all night. I could still see in focus and walk in a straight line and so I felt sober enough to drive, or so I thought.

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argin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify">The streetlight flashing past on the edge of town soon started to have a hypnotic effect on me and, by the time I was out in open country, I felt my eyelids starting to get heavy.

            ‘Well that was a waste of time and fucking money,’ I said to myself as I tried to stifle a yawn.

It started to dawn on me that I probably wouldn’t make it home without having some sort of accident after all, it was getting near impossible to fight off sleep. I was approaching a place called ‘Cider Woods’, a pick nick and parking area set back from the road and hidden among trees and decided to stop there for a sleep. Once recovered I would carry on home. It seemed like a good plan at the time.

It was a hot, August night. The air was still and thick with heat and, once the air conditioning went off in the car I started to sweat uncomfortably. There had been no other cars in the car park, it was well after midnight and I had parked up in the most secluded part so I judged it o.k. to strip off, put the diver’s seat right back and lie down. I was still up tight at not finding trade and still needed to jerk off before I could properly settle down. I turned on the interior light, took one of my one-hander story books from the glove compartment, and had a read.

I’m a top, always heave been, I have never had anyone touch my arse apart from the occasional rimming, and I like reading stories about other tops. How they give those smooth young bottoms something to scream about as they pound their asses with their huge hairy meat. I’d only read a few pages before I spurted over my stomach and chest. That really finished me off. I chucked the book on the passenger seat with my clothes, flicked off the light and more or less passed out.

I don’t know exactly how much time had passed, but I was suddenly woken by a sharp tapping on the window. It took me a moment of grogginess to realise where I was and that a torch was being shone through the glass and into my face. And then I heard a deep, growling voice that made my blood freeze.

            ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

I shielded the light from my eyes enough to see the face. A slightly overweight police officer with a thick moustache and a sarcastic grin on his face was looking into the car and searching around it with his flashlight.

            ‘Oh, hi..’ I stammered as I sat bolt upright, trying to adjust the car seat. ‘I stopped because I was tired. It was dangerous for me to drive on…’

            ‘Is that so?’ the policeman’s gaze returned to my face before slowly travelling down my body, following the trail made by his flashlight.

I remembered that I was naked, swore and made a grab for my clothes.

            ‘Don’t touch anything and get out of the car.’ His voice had lost its sarcastic edge, now it was full of menace and he was opening my door.

            ‘But I’m naked…’ I tried to say. I was embarrassed and starting to get worried.

            ‘Just get out of the car now,’ he ordered. ‘And leave those clothes where they are.

A strong hand landed on my shoulder and started to tug me from safety. I climbed out, trying to cover my modesty with my hands, and stood there looking at my feet. I remember thinking ‘it’s cooler outside than in the car,’ before my scrambled thoughts were interrupted.

            ‘Hands down by your sides,’ the policeman barked.

            I nervously moved them as he told me to. I felt a slight breeze brush against my balls which tingled and shrank right up.

            ‘Well now,’ he said grabbing me abruptly by my hair. ‘What do we have here?’ He pushed my head back to stare straight into my face. ‘What have you been up to lying there naked? And with… what’s that? A queer porn mag lying open on the seat next to you. You some kind of pervert?’

            ‘No,’ I protested. ‘I undressed because it was so hot, I told you I had to stop or else I’d have had an accident.’

His expression did not change and my confidence waned.

‘I’d been out at a bar and… well, I wanted to… That is…’

He smirked, his moustache rose slightly on one side and he turned his head.

            ‘Hey Mike,’ he called back into the night. ‘Looks like we’ve found us some kind of pervert.’

It was then that I realised that there was more than one of them. I saw a figure walk across the headlight beam of the police car and approach. He was slightly younger than the officer who still held me by the head and was more muscular, better built. When he came close enough I could see a face sneering from behind a dark beard.

            ‘Fucking pervert,’ he spat as he looked first at me and then at the older cop. ‘What you gunna do with him sir?’

I was starting to get scared now and tried to say something in protest at the way they were treating me.

            ‘Shut up and speak only when told to, scumbag,’ the older officer clipped my ear. ‘I reckon we should check him over and make sure he’s not hiding anything. Get over here.’

His powerful fingers twisted the hair at the back of my neck as he pushed me around towards the back of the car. I was shoved hard and nearly stumbled but he gripped me like a vice and pointed me to face the boot of the car.

            ‘Now bend over that boy, I want to see if you’re hiding anything…up there,’ he pushed me roughly down.

            ‘You can’t do this…’ I tried to resist but he was too strong and bent me over.

            ‘Say one more word boy and I’ll make you very sorry,’ he hissed sharply.

He pressed my face side on to the metal of the boot, held me there and shouted, ‘Mike, check what’s in the car and bring it out. All of it.’

I knew what was in there and I knew that them finding it wouldn’t do me any favours. I tried one more time to speak.

            ‘Look…’

            Smack! A sharp slash of pain stopped me dead. And then another. Smack. He had spanked my arse so hard I nearly had the wind knocked out of me.

            ‘I told you not to speak didn’t I? You piece of shit.’

Another three, really hard hits brought tears to my eyes. I heard the sound of the slaps echo into the deserted black woods around me. I was totally helpless. And my arse was stinging like mad. Abruptly he stopped and said, ‘that’s just for starters. Do as you’re told and it might turn out fine. Time to look up that arse of yours and see what you’re hiding.’

Oh God, no! I thought. Nobody had ever been there, I’d never allowed it. I was a top, always, I’d never let anyone get that kind of power over me.

            ‘Stay in that position and don’t move lad,’ he ordered.

I felt him squat down behind me and his rough hands started to part the cheeks of my smacked arse. Parted them so far I thought I would split.

Suddenly I heard a thud and the rattle of metal hitting the ground just behind me.

            ‘You were right sir,’ the other cop said. ‘He is a pervert, a fucking queer. Look at all this stuff.’

The one in charge must have looked at what had been tipped from my bag, my ‘overnight gear’, but he kept my cheeks spread as far apart from each other as was possible as he said, ‘holly shit! You are one sick mother…’ Then he paused before saying, ‘mind you, some of this might come in handy.’

What was he on about? I knew what had been in the bag, I knew what hey were looking at, and I knew the kind of things I did with it, on my subs. I was nervous, I lost control and farted.

            ‘You dirty bastard,’ the older cop shouted.

He stood up quickly, put one hand on the middle of my back and slapped at my right arse cheek with his other. Smack. Smack. Smack. And then he changed hands and attacked the other side. Smack. Smack. Smack.

‘Do you think you’re clever? I’ll teach you not to be clever with me,’ he grunted with the rhythm of his smacking.

My arse felt red raw and with every slap my groin was pushed into the hard steel of the back of the car. Even though I was scared shitless my dick seemed to have a will of its own. It grew harder with every smack.

After several minutes of constant spanking the policeman finally said, ‘that’s enough for now.’ He was hardly out of breath. ‘Have you learned your lesson boy?’

‘Yes sir,’ I gasped back weakly.

‘Good lad. That’s what I like to hear.’ He ran the palm of his hand over my hot, swollen arse. ‘Mike, pass me that Hot Lube.’

My mind started to race again. What was he going to do now? I didn’t have time to think further, he answered for me buy pulling my left arse cheek painfully to one side.

            ‘Like I said I’m going to see if you got anything hidden up inside that smooth skinned arse of yours. I’ve put this cream on my fingers and I’m gunna inspect you now. Don’t move. Mike, you keep these rosy cheeks apart for me so I can get a proper look.’

            ‘Sure thing sir. Don’t mind if I do.’

I felt ‘Mike’ put his solid hands on my arse and spread my cheeks open. I couldn’t believe what was happening. And I couldn’t believe that my cock, now fully stiff, was starting to leak.

The older policeman put his finger straight on my hole and started spreading the lube around the rim. He was unexpectedly gentle, in contrast to the rough spanking he’d just dealt me and this caught me off guard. I let out a small moan of pleasure. Before the sting of the hot lube started to take effect and my hole clamped shut against the pain.

But then his finger was pressing against that puckered entrance, the gel allowing him to force his finger tip just inside. Then he started to rotate it.

All of a sudden I realised that I was actually enjoying this. As long as they didn’t tell me to turn around and display the erection I was trying to hide from them. I knew that would mean real trouble. The fingertip was removed quickly and my sphincter felt looser than it had before.  

            ‘Hey Mike,’ he was saying, ‘get your head closer and have a good look at this.’

There was the sound of feet scuffling into another position and then, without warning, the finger was shoved back in. This time it felt like he’d jabbed me with all of it, I gritted my teeth and drew in a sharp breath. Once again the finger was rotated for a few seconds and then he started to pull it out. Before it was fully out though he slid it back in; making me wince. I felt it search around inside me. I felt the two cops so close behind me that their breath was hot against my glowing flesh. Out came the finger, nearly all the way, and then right back in again, a little further each time. I was aware of whispering behind me, I wondered what they were saying.

And then, without warning, two fingers were shoved deep inside me. The pain shot through me and I cried out. My protest was met by a few more slaps. This time, I guessed from Mike, they were harder, his hands were larger.

            ‘For good measure,’ I heard him say and my cock dribbled more precum.

            ‘Can’t seem to feel anything there,’ the one in charge said and I started to relax, thinking that this would soon be over. ‘Guess we’ll just have to look deeper.’

Deeper! What the fuck did he mean?

           

            ‘Stand up boy,’ the policeman ordered. He grabbed me by the hair again and pulled me up straight, turned me around.

My face felt as red hot as my arse as my hard on swung around and into view.

            ‘Jesus sir,’ I heard Mike say as he grabbed me by the shoulders. I had closed my eyes against my embarrassment. ‘Look at this, he’s been enjoying himself!’

            ‘Well, we can put a stop to that,’ the other one grunted. ‘We’ll take him in there, to the clearing behind those trees. We’ll finish the inspection there. You,’ he barked at me, ‘pick up this stuff and carry it.’

With that, Mike released me and kicked at the bag at my feet. I opened my eyes but did not dare look at the two of them. I quickly picked up my bag of gear before being shoved towards the blackness of the woods ahead.

            ‘That arse is really red raw,’ I heard the older guy whisper into my ear as we walked. ‘You enjoying this boy?’

            ‘Yes…no. No, I’m not….sorry…I…’ I was both excited and scared. ‘I’m confused.’

            ‘Good. You’ll be even more confused before long. Stand still.’

From what I could make out in the dim light of approaching dawn we had reached a small clearing in the woods. Not far from the car park and the silent road. A semi circle of trees stood around like voyeurs in a back room, shadows waited between their trunks and nothing moved in the stillness behind them.

            ‘Get on your knees and put your hands on the ground,’ I was ordered. ‘I have to finish my inspection.’

I dropped the bag and did as I was instructed.

            ‘What now sir?’ I heard Mike ask and there was an enthusiasm to his voice that I hadn’t noticed before.

            ‘I want you to inspect him this time,’ his boss directed. ‘I’ll keep those cute cheeks apart. You, spread your legs wider lad.’

I moved them slightly, pine needles and twigs sticking into my knees. A boot kicked against my ankle, there was the sound of quick movement and he shouted, ‘wider!’

A palm, feeling like a wooden paddle, landed hard against the centre of my crack, slapping hot air and flesh against my stinging kin. ‘Wider!’ Another slap right on the centre brought a dull numbness to my open hole. And then the numbness went and the soreness returned. I did as I was told straight away. I was trying to figure out what was happening, why I was enjoying this treatment and I was wondering what they were going to do to me next.

Then I felt hands spreading my cheeks wide open again and felt the night air rush around, trying to cool me down. But it did not stay there long. A thick finger started to invade my hole, this time the probing was more amateurish, compared to the boss’ treatment. Mike was rougher, quicker, not as sensitive. This time he shoved in right up to the hilt and I felt more pain than I had experienced before. I thought I would pass out; my breath was taken from me.

The finger rested for a second and then started to move; left then to the right and then in circles. And the pain started to go away as he slowly withdrew, opening me up more with his knuckles. I’d never felt anything like it in my life. Suddenly I didn’t want it to stop. My cock was rock solid and painfully swollen and my head was light and spinning.

Mike pushed in again with such force that my face was forced to the ground and another moan escaped from my dry mouth.

All at once the older policeman let go of my cheeks and moved around in front of me. He jerked my head up from the floor and made me look at him.

            ‘You enjoying having that finger up your arse then, eh? Are you getting off on it?’

            ‘I…’

            ‘Eh? Do you want more boy?’

I didn’t have time to answer as he ignored me and looked up to his deputy. ‘I think you should try using that on him,’ he was indicating something out of my sight and leaned away to reach for it. He turned back to face me again. ‘Let’s see if you still enjoy it, with this,’ he said and held up my own thick, black dildo before shuffling around behind me.

I knew I was in trouble. A finger hurt badly enough, I knew I would not be able to cope with a thing that size. I used it on my trade, I forced it into them, other people liked having that shoved in their insides. Not me.

Mike’s finger pulled out with a popping sound and I grunted at the sudden release. The next thing I knew I could feel the slippery, rubber end of the dildo sliding up and down my crack. I held my breath, screwed up my eyes and felt the deputy slowly start to push it in.

I wanted to scream the forest down. The pain was almost too much to tolerate and I felt as if my arse was going to split wide open. Mike started to apply a bit more pressure and another inch was forced in. Then he withdrew it a little and I breathed again. But then a quick shove, a searing hot pain and I realised that, so far, only the head had gone in. My hole clamped up around the rim of the rubber cock-head like it was trying to grip it, to stop it going further. But to no avail. I was in fucking agony as the thing was slid in another merciless inch.

And yet, at the same time, my cock was ready to explode. I’d never felt pleasure and pain like this before. Never felt the two things so perfectly opposed. I didn’t know if I could stand this without passing out but I did know that now I didn’t want it to stop.

I could feel Mike’s fingers scraping against my raw arse cheeks and realised that the dildo was all the way in. My breathing calmed as he rested there, letting me recover, and slowly the pain subsided. I adjusted, I relaxed and then all I felt was pure ecstasy.

And then the rhythm started. Slowly at first. Mike gently pulled the dildo back, I felt its wide rim pull at the inside of my sphincter, it relaxed and the rubber rod was free. Then he pushed it slowly back inside and this time my muscle let it in without resistance. I felt the shaft get swallowed as six inches of pleasure made itself at home, slowly, gently, smoothly. His fist met with my glowing flesh pushing my whole body forward, and he twisted the thing, scraping his knuckles against me before pulling it back out again.

His rhythm quickened, sliding it into me, twisting it, pulling it out. In again, his fist against my skin, I could feel the material of his uniform brush against my legs and I could feel his weight as he sat across one of my legs. And this time when he pulled it back out something remained. His other hand cupped my balls and began to play with them. He clenched his fist around them, unclenched, squeezed again.

            ‘I can’t believe how excited he is sir,’ I heard him say. ‘He’s really enjoying this.’

With that he slid his hand up the shaft of my rock hard cock and held it, one of his fingers exploring the precum that moistened the swollen head. That was almost enough to send me over the edge there and then but then I heard him say, ‘God, he’s leaking cum all over the place,’ as he slid the dildo back inside me.

            ‘Let’s see if he likes this then.’ The older cop had reappeared in front of me. He knelt down, grabbed my head and pushed it towards the solid bulge in his trousers.

            ‘I don’t need to remind you not to do anything stupid boy,’ he threatened while sliding his belt away from its loops. ‘You’re going to service my dick with that sweet, young mouth of yours. And if I feel any teeth I’m gunna thrash you with this, got it?’

I nodded. My mind was on keeping myself from coming as the deputy massaged my cock and kept up his slow fucking with the dildo. Before me the older cop pulled down his zip, reached inside with one hand and eased out his cock. I forgot about my own state when I saw it.

His circumcised head glistened purple in the half light and crowned a long, dark shaft contoured with thick veins. It grew out like a log from a thicket of black and grey pubes and beneath it he released a set of weighty, wrinkled balls. Taking his shaft in one fist he slapped it across my face a few times and then instructed me to put it in my mouth.

I licked his precum from the tip.

            ‘Any bitch can do that boy, suck it!’

Mike slapped my arse so hard I could feel welts coming up.

            ‘Suck his fucking dick. Suck it good you cocksucker.’

I opened my mouth as far as it would go, I stretched it, felt my lips pulled taught. I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to take the thickness of the meat that was before me, scared that I should scrape it and get more punishment. The boss pushed his sweat-smelling cock head into my mouth and I tried to take it all the way back. I only got half way before I had to breathe. I tried to back off but he gripped my hair tighter and pushed my head forward, impaling my face on his cock.

            ‘Take it, take my dick,’ he growled.

And I did. Going all the way down until my face was buried in the furry mass of his pubes. I breathed through my nose, sniffing in the smell of man sweat and the scent of his groin. I was forced to slide the thing in and out of my mouth, saliva started to lubricate my throat at last and I was able to take his whole length to the hot recesses of my throat. All the time Mike was matching the fucking my face was getting with the fucking of my arse. As the dildo went in so the cop’s cock was forced in. Mike was still pulling at my balls and torturing my cock with his powerful fingers. Each time I felt like I was going to shoot he would pull the dildo out and slap his palm across my arse, bringing me back from the edge for a split second while driving me ever closer to it.

After a few minutes the older cop’s grip on my head changed. It was not so rough anymore, now he was holding me, then letting me go, then grasping for me again. He started to grunt and his cock started to twitch inside my mouth.

Suddenly he pushed me away and sat back on his haunches, panting and wiping his forehead.

            ‘Here Mike,’ he gasped, ‘you want some of this boy’s mouth?’

            ‘Yes please sir,’ Mike replied eagerly.

My arse felt wide open as he pulled the dildo out for the last time. I heard it thud to the ground as he rustled his way around in front of me to change places with his boss. He stood before me and I looked up at his muscled body as he stripped. It was like he was giving me a chance to recover and enjoy the sight of him slowly reveal his hard thighs, his hairy legs and his cock. I thought the older cop’s cock had been big but Mikes, though not quite as long, was fatter. His balls were pulled up tight in anticipation though still swelled beneath the solid mast of flesh, loaded and waiting to empty.

As soon as he knelt down I was on him. I didn’t wait to be told, I knew what he wanted and I wanted it too. I savoured his taste, sweeter than his boss’, his cock smoother, his pubes softer but just as bushy.

Behind me the other policeman was investigating my arse with his fingers again, massaging my prostate and bring me to the edge of orgasm. He was not as controlled as Mike and before I could stop myself I shot my load. My cock exploded like a volcano at last and I felt a hot jet spurt up onto my stomach. The cop behind me slapped hard at my arse and I shot another load as I swallowed hard on Mike’s firm flesh.

            ‘I didn’t give you permission to come, boy,’ the older cop shouted and started to hit my arse with his belt.

This drove me to chew harder on the cop in front, my groans of pleasure mixing with grunts of pain as he forced my head down onto him. His hips thrust forward as his grip on my head tightened and the belt seared across my burning flesh. And then my mouth was filling with his hot juice as it splattered against the back of my throat. I tried to swallow but more came, filling my mouth as he jerked himself into my face, circling his groin against me and shuddering. His cum filled and dribbled from my mouth as yet more was unloaded into it until finally he slowly pulled it away from me. And when it was released into the cool dawn air it showed no signs of softening.

The lashing from the belt had stopped.

            ‘Get your head down lad,’ the strict voice behind me commanded. ‘I want to fill your arse with my dick.’

I was nervous again. His cock was thicker than the dildo and longer. I didn’t know if I could take any more without passing out. But I didn’t have time to think about it.

            ‘I’m going to fuck you raw boy, fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.’

I felt his heavy hands on the soreness of my arse flesh. They scraped their way around to grab my hips and held me there tight and unforgiving. Mike stood over me, one leg on either side and squatted so that he could hold my cheeks apart for his boss.

            ‘I wanna see this up close,’ he said as he gripped my sides with his knees, locking me into a position from which I could not escape.

I felt the end of the old guy’s cut cock nudge against my slick hole and a rush of panic spread through me. I stiffened, my sphincter clenched. But the monster shaft of cop cock broke it wide open again and slid right into me, up to the hilt until, with one heave, his huge balls slapped against me and nearly forced a second wad of cum from my own. There was no pain after that, just exhilaration and I wanted more as he pulled back. I pushed my arse down eagerly over his cock again.

            ‘I’m the one doing the fucking not you,’ he spat and spanked me again with a new force.

I gave in to him and he started to fuck me. Slowly at first. In, all the way, banging against my prostate, out again, pulling me back over him, sliding out. Teasing turned to pleasurable torture and I was ready to shoot again.

Then Mike was off me and kneeling in front of me, showing me a dark, hairy arse crack.

            ‘Lick this and shove your tongue right up,’ he ordered

I grabbed the pair of furry cheeks, pulled him towards me and buried my head right in there. I could smell his flesh, and the leather from the boots he still wore. Could feel the heat from his body and the heat from the one behind who was fucking me like a machine. On and on it went as the nightmare turned into a fantastic dream and air started to warm with the sun coming up behind the trees. Deeper drove the cop behind me, deeper went my tongue into the one before me.

Until Mike turned around again and showed me that his meat was ready for another sucking. I licked the dried cum from its tip, tasted it again, ran my lips along his shaft as the pounding on my arse intensified. I heard the other cop grunt, shout, ‘oh fuck, I’m coming,’ and felt his rod pull out from my battered butt before firing round after round of burning hot juice across my back. As he came he slapped my arse with his hand and then with his cock, wiping the rest of his jism into the hand prints his spanking had left on me.

            ‘Your turn Mike,’ he panted and came around to kneel in front of me again. ‘You, wash this spunk off my dick.’

He turned me over onto my back, fell onto all fours himself and dangled his still dripping cock over my face. I reached for it keenly with my tongue as I felt Mike lift my legs, push my knees back against my chest and, without warning, ram his wide shaft deep inside my gaping hole. I would have screamed at the savage pounding he dealt me but my throat was full of the older policeman’s cut cock. His balls were squashing on my eyelids and his hairy chest was rubbing against my smooth, flat stomach as he fell forwards, taking my stiff six inches into his own mouth. His moustache played against the downy covering of my tight balls as the back of his throat manipulated my sore cock head. But only for a moment.

            ‘Wank yourself boy,’ he ordered, pushing himself up so that he sat over my face. ‘I wanna see you cum while you eat out my arse.’

As I grabbed at my own cock and felt Mike’s grow wider and harder within me I gorged on the hairy arse hole that was pushing and rubbing in my face. I wanked myself in the same rhythm as Mike’s fucking while feeling the cop above me beating on his own meat, his balls slapping against his furry thighs.

                                                                          

And then Mike was puling out, I heard him grunting, his breathing now fast and shallow. And then he unleashed a thick torrent of hot cum over my balls sending me over the edge. I felt my own juice land on my chest where the guy above was unloading his second wad into the air. It landed on my stomach with another jet from Mike, and I came again, empty at last. The bear above me jerked once more and emptied himself onto my chest. His rough hands rubbed the spunk into my nipples as Mike rubbed his dripping cock around my spent balls.

We stayed in those positions for several minutes, until the sound of a car racing past on the nearby road brought us back to where we were. The sun was up behind the horizon and it was going to be another hot day. The older policeman slid back, allowing me to breathe more freely as I lay on my back staring at the white dawn sky. And Mike slowly lowered my legs back down, they ached, my whole body ached. My arse scraped against the rough ground and I let out a yelp.

The older cop laughed at me as he dressed. ‘What’s your name boy?’ he asked and at last his tone seemed softer.

            ‘Aaron,’ I replied, shifting my gaze to watch his now soft, fat cock being forced back into his uniform and wanting to reach for it.

            ‘When you see me next, Aaron,’ he said, smirking slightly. ‘And you will be seeing me again boy, you will call me Sir. I have a party on next week, at my house, with other… like minded policeman. You will join us there at eight O’clock sharp, or else…’

He left the sentence hanging as he fished out a card from his wallet and threw it down onto my chest.

Then the two of them simply walked off, leaving me there naked and sore, staring at the morning sky.

            ‘Wow, what a fuck,’ I thought to myself and smiled as I looked at the card.

Sure I would be there. But I might turn up five minutes late just to see what the ‘or else’ might be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Boarding School Memoirs - Alex's first sex

lukepreston on Gay Stories

 

It was the start of Spring term, my last year at the school. It was still cold enough for us to have the fire on in our study and Dean and I used to light it whenever we could. We’d sit in those two battered old chairs we’d caged off the caretaker, put our feet up on a stool and drink the gin we’d nicked. With the fire going we could smoke and blow the smoke up the chimney so you wouldn’t catch us. Dean liked to dim the lights and pretend that we were two old farts in a London Club, he’d sometimes pretend to smoke a pipe and I’d pretend to read him the latest Stock Exchange figures or something. Pretentious or what!

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Because we were prefects by then, as you will remember, we were allowed a helper. A Fag as we were not allowed to call him. Ours was a boy called Warner, from the third form. A scrawny little runt who was always getting ill. He was not much good as a Fag either, always dropping things and getting in the way rather than helping. Dean wanted to fire him.

            ‘One night we were expecting him at eight as usual, to clean shoes or whatever, but he didn’t turn up. Instead, when there was a knock at the door and we shouted ‘enter Warner,’ far too grandly, someone else came in.

            ‘Who the hell are you?’ Dean said, still in his old-git voice.

            ‘Gould, sir,’ the lad replied nervously. ‘Warner is ill and I was told to come instead.’

            ‘How old are you boy?’ Dean eyed him suspiciously.

            ‘Old enough sir.’

            ‘A bit old to be fagging aren’t you?’ I asked. Usually the helpers where drawn from the younger boys, to teach them respect and all that crap. This lad was from the fifth form.

            ‘I am a new boy, sir. That’s why they sent me.’

            ‘Very well,’ Dean sighed. ‘You can start on the shoes.’

And Gould went to work on polishing our shoes as we sat and stared into the fire. After a while I noticed that Dean was glancing more and more at the boy who was kneeling just off to my left, his back to us. And then Dean nudged me and nodded his head towards the lad. I raised my eyebrows, I didn’t know what he was getting at. He nodded again and grinned.

Then I realised what he was trying to say. As Gould had knelt and bent forwards to do his work, his shirt had come away from his trousers revealing the top of his arse. Builder’s but we’d call it now. He was quite a slim lad, not fat in any way but not scrawny and unattractive like Warner. His hair was cut in the uniform short back and sides and it was dark, his shoulders were broad and as he worked I could see that he had muscles on his arms.

            ‘Quite a pleasing sight eh, Stuart?’ Dean smirked at me.

            ‘Indeed it is Dean,’ I smiled back. I knew what he was getting at.

            ‘Very fuckable.’ Dean dropped his stupid accent and his own, Liverpudlian one sounded through the room.

The boy stopped polishing the shoes and froze.

            ‘Why have you stopped lad?’ Dean asked and the boy started his work again. ‘Come here.’

Obediently the lad stood up and turned to face us. His face was red, his cheeks glowing with embarrassment and his eyes betraying just a little fear.

            ‘No need to be nervous,’ Dean said. ‘We’re two of the school’s prefects. You do well by us and we’ll look after you. O.k.?

            ‘Yes sir,’ he boy replied meekly.

            ‘Good. Now come and stand in front of my friend Stuart so that he can take a good look at you.’

The boy did as he was told, putting down his brushes first and wiping his hands on a cloth before coming to stand facing me.

I was able to take a proper look at him then. His face was attractive enough, with wide brown eyes, thin eyebrows and cheek bones that defined its shape. His skin was smooth, no sign of any acne or blemish and with only a faint hint of fluff starting to shadow beneath his nose. He stood with his hands by his sides and looked at me with nervously.

            ‘Tell me… what’s your name? Gould. Tell me Gould, what do you like most about what you see?’ Dean asked.

            ‘Sir?’ The boy did not understand.

            ‘My friend, Stuart. What do you like best about him?

            ‘I don’t know sir.’

            ‘Of course you must now something.’ Dean sounded like a master then, using the standard teacher reply to a boy saying he didn’t know. ‘What do you like most about what you see?’

            ‘Er…’ the lad hesitated.

            ‘It’s o.k. Gould,’ I reassured him. ‘You can say whatever you like. You won’t get in trouble.’

            ‘Thank you sir,’ he smiled a little smile of relief and I sensed him relax a bit. ‘Well, I like that he has a kind face.’

            ‘Bloody good, Gould,’ Dean said. ‘What else?’

            ‘That he needs a shave.’

Dean laughed and swigged some more gin.

            ‘Is that his best feature?’ he asked.

            ‘I don’t know sir,’ Gould replied.

            ‘No, you wouldn’t,’ Dean mumbled. ‘Shall I tell you what his best feature is? Would you like to know?’

The lad was still looking at me and I stared right back. Something was happening between us. I knew what Dean was up to and I think that Gould knew it then too. The good thing was that he didn’t seem to mind, like he knew what to expect and was looking forward to what was going to happen. That relaxed me and it must have relaxed him.

            ‘Yes please sir,’ he said.

            ‘Stuart’s best feature,’ Dean emphasised the word best . ‘Are his balls.’

There was a silence during which I slowly raised an eyebrow and the corner of my mouth.

            ‘What’s your best feature, Gould?’

            ‘My tongue sir.’

He had also moved his mouth into a smile. Inside my trousers I could feel my cock become more sensitive.

            ‘O.k. Gould,’ Dean said sharply to attract his attention.

Gould looked over at him.

            ‘Stand between the two of us so that I can see you more clearly.’

He did as he was told.

            ‘Hands behind your back if you don’t mind. That’s it. So Gould, what do you think my best feature is?’

            ‘Your accent sir,’ the boy said without hesitation.

            ‘My accent?’ Dean was not expecting that. ‘What’s so special about that?’

            ‘I like it sir.’

            ‘Does it turn you on?’

            ‘Sir?’

            ‘I think it does,’ I said and pointed to the boy’s crotch.

Behind his fly something was starting to stir. The front of his tight black trousers was now neatly shaped with a smooth mound, as if his dick was pointing downwards but wanting to stick straight out.

            ‘Take your shirt off,’ Dean ordered. ‘We like to make sure our fag is fit and healthy.

The boy looked at me and I gave him a reassuring nod. He slowly unbuttoned his white shirt, all the time looking from me to Dean. He gave a little tug and the front came free from his waistband as he undid the last button. He opened the shirt up revealing his smooth chest, a reasonably flat stomach with only a hint of puppy fat, and two perfectly round nipples, dark against the white of his flesh. He let the shirt drop to the floor behind him and stood still again, his hands back by his sides.

            ‘What do you think is his best feature Stu?’ Dean asked me.

            ‘His obedience,’ I said without having to think.

            ‘Good point. But he may have others.’

            ‘Possibly.’

            ‘O.k. Gould, let’s see your feet. We like to make sure our fags have clean feet.’

The lad removed his shoes and his socks.

            ‘Look fine to me Dean,’ I said after inspecting them.

            ‘Quite. So, Gould. What do you think I am going to ask you to do now?’

            ‘I don’t know sir,’ he started to answer but realised that it was not a good reply. ‘Are you going to ask me to remove my trousers?’

            ‘No,’ said Dean stretching out his legs. ‘You are going to remove mine.’

The lad was a bit taken aback by that I think as he looked up, at me, then across to Dean, quickly. Dean just nodded and slouched as far back in his armchair as he could. With his legs out before him and his hips thrust upwards slightly the bulge in his trousers was very well defined. What he had not told Gould was that his best feature was, in fact, his cock. I’d seen it, tasted it and played with it on many occasions before.

Gould knelt down between Dean’s legs and undid his belt. Dean put his hands behind his head and watched as the boy slowly popped the first button on the fly. He undid each button carefully, like he knew that he had to do this slowly. And then he reached around to the sides, took the trousers by the waistband and started to tug them slowly downwards. Dean raised his arse a little and sighed as if this was boring him. Gould pulled at the material at the knees and the trousers started to slide down. The top of Dean’s white briefs came into view, a tumble of black hair appearing at the top for a second before his shirt fell over it. Gould stood and pulled the trousers by the hems of the legs, drawing them smoothly away from Dean’s dark, hairy legs. He dropped them to one side and resumed his attentive position.

            ‘Good lad,’ Dean said, looking down to admire the solid mass pressing from inside his tight briefs. ‘But you should still be on your knees.’

Gould knelt again, between Dean’s now parted legs. Dean undid his shirt as the boy watched, and revealed his chest. Defined, strong and covered with thick dark hair. Without saying anything he reached forward, took one of Gould’s hands and placed it on his chest. The boy was lent forward by this action and held an arm of the chair so that he did not touch any other part of Dean’s body. Dean took the boy’s wrist so that he could run the palm across his chest.

            ‘How does it feel?’ he asked; his voice soft.

            ‘Grown up,’ Gould replied.

Dean put his own hand on the lad’s chest and copied the movement. Then he let go of Gould’s hand and allowed the boy to explore his chest hair unaided. Dean flicked his fingertips across Gould’s nipples and the boy copied.

            ‘You are learning,’ Dean whispered and took the boys head in his other hand. He pulled him gently towards him and laid the boy’s cheek against his chest. ‘Listen to my heart,’ he said and started stroking the back of the boy’s head tenderly.

Gould now had nowhere to put his hands apart from around Dean’s wide chest, it looked like he was hugging him. Dean petted him for a while before wrapping his own arms around the boy and drawing the young body close against his own.

            ‘What can you feel against your tummy?’ Dean asked.

            ‘Your…’ Gould hesitated and I knew why.

            ‘You can use whatever words you like Gould,’ I reassured him. ‘You won’t get into trouble.’

            ‘Thank you sir. I can feel your prick.’

Dean lifted him back into a kneeling position and then stripped of his shirt to reveal his shoulders. He was now naked but for the white briefs, surrounded by his tangle of black hair. He lifted his feet from the floor, wrapped his legs around Gould’s body and pulled him forward. The lad shuffled on his knees until he was up against the edge of the chair. The Dean placed one hand on his head and gently pushed it down to his crotch.

            ‘Kiss it,’ he whispered. ‘Kiss it tenderly through the material, make it wet. Show me your best feature, show me what you can do with your tongue.’

I watched, my heart pounding, as the boy did as he was told. He tried to wrap his lips around the shape of Dean’s shaft. He held it between them and moved his head so that the cock slid to the side, free from its bent position, and then he manoeuvred it so that it was pointing upwards, lying flat against Dean’s body under the briefs. The lad made small biting gestures from the base to the tip which now lifted the briefs away and the wet, glistening tip of Dean’s cock poked out from above the waistband of the briefs. Dean pushed Gould’s head down and into the soft, springiness of his balls. I heard the lad’s tongue slurp around down there and saw the material darken with his moisture. Dean held the boy by the ears, operated his head as he tipped his own head back and closed his eyes.

            ‘Good work lad, that’s a good tongue,’ he said as he pressed the boy’s face into every part of his groin.

As I watched the two of them I slipped my shirt off, then took off my own trousers. My dick was constrained in my shorts but I left it alone, instead of touching it I played with my nipples, already hard and sensitive. Eventually Dean looked over to me and winked. I smiled back. He lifted the boy’s head from his wet crotch and Gould’s face was red, his lips slightly swollen from working on the material.

            ‘Stand up Gould,’ Dean said and again the boy obeyed without hesitation.

Now there was no mistaking the lad’s excitement. The front of his school trousers bulged desperately, his penis pointing rigidly to one side. I could see, in the changing flicker of the firelight that he was not as big as either of us two, but he was still as hard, still as keen.

            ‘What now?’ Dean asked hypothetically. ‘What shall we have him do now Stu?’

            ‘Come here lad,’ I gestured with a wink and the boy took a step to stand in front of me. His eyes fell immediately to my groin.

I sat up and forward in my chair so that my face was level with the front of the lad’s trousers. From the corner of my eye I could see Dean drinking and watching, he was breathing deeply. I put my hands on the side of Gould’s legs, wrapping my fingers around them and gripping tight for a while, feeling the strength of his muscles. They were firm enough, he was a fit lad. And then I moved my hands upwards, very, very slowly, all the time griping and letting go, like I was massaging them. Until I reached his hips, where I tried to see if I could touch my fingers around his waist. Although he was slim and my hands were big I could not quite touch my fingertips together. I left my hands slip down a little way, put one around the back and felt his arse.

            ‘Turn around,’ I said quietly and he did so. ‘He has a very firm backside, Dean,’ I said in a matter of fact way.

            ‘Nice,’ Dean said gulping a drink. ‘I expect you would like to fuck it wouldn’t you?’

I felt Gould tense for a second.

            ‘Do you know what I would really like Gould?’ I asked the boy.

            ‘No sir,’ he answered and his voice displayed nervousness again.

            ‘I would like to taste it.’

There was a pause. I looked at Dean who just grinned.

            ‘How sir?’ Gould asked meekly.

            ‘I will show you,’ I replied and pulled him towards me.

I rested my cheek against the small of his back and moved my hands to the front of his trousers. There, for the first time, I felt the hard little cock that strained inside. I scratched the tip of it through the material with my fingertips and felt Gould flinch. And then slowly I undid the buttons on his fly until his trousers dropped to the floor.

Now all three of us were wearing only our underwear; school standard and white, glowing in the firelight. His tight little buns were highlighted by the light and the stretch of the material and I ran my palm across one, feeling it fit perfectly in my hand.

            ‘Turn back again,’ I instructed and he did so. His hands covered his erection as if he were now embarrassed. ‘Would you like a drink?’ I asked him and signalled for Dean to pass the bottle.

            ‘A drink sir?’

            ‘Have you tasted gin before Gould?’

            ‘No sir.’

            ‘Would you like to? It’s what we prefects drink.’

            ‘Yes please sir,’ he nodded and watched as Dean passed me the bottle.

I held it up to Gould who went to take it.

            ‘Oh no,’ I said teasingly. ‘Not like that. Like this.’

I poured a little onto the front of my briefs, soaking them. Immediately my cock became visible, around it the darkness of my pubes showed through and beneath it the squashed shape of my large balls.

            ‘Kneel down Gould,’ Dean had taken over the instructing now.

The boy did as he was told. He knelt between my legs as I sat back and stretched out my legs as Dean had done.

            ‘You know what to do,’ Dean said and I watched as the boy’s head went into my lap.

The coldness of the alcohol was soon warmed by his tongue, soft but strong as it licked the front of my shorts. His face buried into the fleshy mound of my ball sack and his mouth gulped eagerly for any taste of the gin that it could find. He sucked in hard on the side of my cock, took my head into his mouth through the cotton, drew in deep on my flesh and sucked the liquid out of my briefs. I raised his head and looked into his eyes. They were wide, round with wonder.

            ‘Good?’

He nodded and licked all around his wet lips. I poured more gin into my lap, my cock twitching at the sudden cold, and then pushed his head down there again. This time he sucked and clawed with his eager mouth like he was dying of thirst. His hands gripped my hips, steadying himself, giving himself more leverage as he drank from my soaked groin.

I saw Dean stand and I watched as he came and stood beside us. His cock was still straining for release from his saliva soaked underwear and he was gripping it through the wet material. Without warning he pulled the lad up and shoved his face into his groin.

            ‘Suck on it,’ he ordered. ‘Get it out and suck on it now.’

The boy struggled with the briefs, got his hands inside and pulled them down quickly. Dean’s cock sprang out, slapped against the innocent face and was immediately lost as the boy impaled himself on the shaft.

            ‘Slowly boy,’ Dean calmed him a little.

He took the lad by the side of the head and showed him how to move slowly, gracefully up and down the shaft. Beneath its impressive length I could see his balls, tight now and swollen, almost vanishing up into his body. I knew he would soon be unloading his juice into the lad’s mouth but I didn’t want it to happen like that.

I slipped out of my chair and onto my knees behind Gould. I took him around the waist and pulled him back to sit on my lap. Dean’s cock fell from his moth and my friend looked down at me confused.

            ‘Not yet,’ I winked and he seemed to understand.

I could now feel my cock sliding through my wet briefs and up against the boy’s tight little arse crack. The wetness from the gin transferred and, when I lay Gould face down on the floor, I could see his underwear darkening where his arse had pressed against me. I took hold of his briefs and pulled them gently down to reveal his hairless, round arse. They came away and I threw them to one side.

Dean sat back in his chair, his cock flopping back against his firm belly and he lit a cigarette; happy to take a break while I played with our new helper. I reached for the gin and put it beside me. Then I slowly parted the boy’s legs, spreading them as wide as I thought was comfortable for him, and gazed in on his dark, wrinkled hole. I took the gin and carefully poured a little between his shoulder blades. He jerked at the sudden cold but then relaxed again as a trickle of alcohol ran downwards along his spine. I poured some more and the trickle became a stream. It reached the small of his back, gathered momentarily and then ran off to the side and onto the floor.

Before I wasted any more I knelt on all fours over the prone boy and started to lick it off. From his neck I travelled slowly downwards, feeling each rivet in his spine, massaging his flesh with my tongue, until I reached the pool at the small of his back where I drank. I sat back, took the bottle again and poured. This time the liquid fell between the crack of his arse and trickled over his arsehole before travelling beneath and out of sight. He flinched again as the liquid touched his most sensitive parts. I did not give it a moment to evaporate but started to drink again. Licking it, and him, from the top of his crack, further in, lower down, deeper until I could feel the change in contour and the tightness of his virgin hole against my tongue. I sucked on it, drawing in alcohol and boy sweat as I kneaded his cheeks, pulled them wider to allow my face further in. I felt him push his hips up to meet me, helping me, wanting me to explore more. I heard him gasp as he writhed and moan as he tried to force his arse into my face. Gripped him tighter, I lifted him and fucked him with my tongue.

And then I was aware that he was trying to kneel up. I moved back to allow it and saw Dean kneeling in front of the boy, his cock in one hand and the boy’s head in the other. In a second the boy was impaled on Dean’s monster rod again. I watched, looking along the young, slim body until my eyes came back to his little pink hole, dripping still with gin and saliva. I plunged in again with such force that I thrust him forward and heard him gag as Dean’s cock must have hit the back of his throat. A rhythm started, me fucking the lad with my tongue at one end and Dean with his cock at the other. I had him by the hips again, pulling him onto me and off Dean; then pushing him back onto my friend before dragging his arse into my face.

            ‘Fuck I’m going to come soon,’ I heard Dean complain and immediately I stopped. It still wasn’t the right time.

I sat back and pulled Gould onto my lap once more. My rigid cock slipped up between his cheeks and I felt his small balls rest on my larger, hairier ones. Dean grabbed for his suddenly free cock but I ordered him to leave it alone. He looked at me with is face all taught with desperation.

            ‘In a minute,’ I said and wrapped my arms around the lad.

Gould was panting and I could feel his heart racing as I held him to me.

            ‘Are you o.k.?’ I asked.

            ‘Yes sir,’ he gasped back, short of breath.

            ‘You sure?’

            ‘Uh hu. I mean yes sir.’

            ‘What’s your first name Gould?’

            ‘Alexander,’ he said and sounded confused. ‘Alex.’

            ‘O.k. Alex. You can call me Stuart now, but only in here ok?’

            ‘Yes sir.’

            ‘Alex, I’m going to fuck you now. Have you ever had another boy’s dick in your arse?’

            ‘No sir… No Stuart,’ he said and his nervousness was back and very apparent.

            ‘If you want me to stop, just say so, o.k.? And I will.’

            ‘O.k.’ he said quickly.

I let him go and told him to stand up as I sat back in my chair. Dean was still glaring at me, desperate to shoot his load and I almost smiled at his predicament. But my mind was on the feel of the cute boy’s virgin arse that was soon to be mine.

            ‘Let me see you Alex,’ I said and the boy turned to face me.

I saw his cock for the first time. Long, this, the foreskin pulled back to reveal an angry red head. Beneath it his balls were small and hung in a slightly wrinkled sack. Around his smooth penis was a short, almost imperceptible smattering of hair. I brought him to stand between my legs, lent forward and pursed my lips. Keeping them as tightly together as I could, I slowly drew him into my mouth. All the way until my forehead was pressed against his hairless belly. He tasted salty, almost bitter and had about him the musty smell of youth. My hands felt for his arse cheeks, I pulled them apart and brushed a finger over his hole.

And then there was the feel of rough stubble against my hands. Dean was behind the lad, feasting on his innocent arse, tongue fucking him again as I gave the lad his first proper blow job. Gould held onto my head and I could hear him start his moaning again. He kept running his hands across my cheeks as if he’d never felt unshaved flesh before, his fingers kept touching his cock and my lips as if he couldn’t believe that I was sucking him. I played with his little balls, tickling them as I used them to draw his cock into my mouth and he murmured ‘yes’ and ‘I like that sir,’ as I did so.

And then I heard him grunt out ‘oh no,’ and I knew he was about to come. Immediately I pushed him off me and held him still. He was panting desperately, sweat running down his chest. He tried to grip his twitching dick but I held his hands firmly against his side. Dean stood up too and left him alone. I saw Gould controlling himself, felt his arms tremble and heard his breathing regain a calmer rhythm. I watched his cock for ages, waiting while he recovered. He hadn’t come. I’d averted it just in time.

I let him go, lay back in my chair, gripped my cock with one hand and lubed it up with spit with the other. Gould looked at it and bit his lip.

            ‘It won’t hurt for long,’ I reassured him and he nodded his acquiescence.

Dean put his hands under the boy’s arms and with no effort lifted him from the ground. He placed him on my chair, one foot on either side of me, and supported him as Gould started to squat down. I guided my shaft with one hand until his legs prevented me from holding it. The lad gripped the side of the armchair and I gripped his waist. I felt Dean’s wide hands take my cock and I saw him kneel between my legs, guiding me towards the lad’s arsehole. I felt the tip of my penis touch the creased flesh, still slippery from the Gin and I felt the alcohol burn me delicately, heightening the sensation. Gould was looking at me, he looked even more nervous.

            ‘Just relax Alex,’ I reassured him and he flashed a thankful smile.

His cock had softened slightly so that it now fell forward, too long for the small balls that were tightening beneath it, out of proportion. The sight of its smoothness and the thought that this was a virgin fifth former really turned me on. And knowing that Dean was guiding my cock into him added to all that. I wanted to grab the boy and shove him onto me but I knew that that would be wrong for him. Instead I let him sink lower in his own time.

I felt heat around my glowing cock, I felt him open up as the first centimetre of my shaft penetrated him, and I saw his face tighten with pain. He stopped, held his breath, let it go slowly, beads of sweat gathering on his brow and running into his eyes. And hen he lowered a fraction more.

            ‘I can’t do this. I’m sorry Stuart,’ he said.

            ‘That’s fine Alex, leave it.’

            ‘No, it’s o.k. I want to,’ he changed his mind. Took a deep breath and let himself go.

I felt his balls land on me, I felt my cock impale him and I felt his hole grab tight around my girth. He stifled a yell, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the chair. His head fell forward and his breathing started coming in short, sharp gasps. I lay there looking up at him until he opened his eyes. He forced a smile.

            ‘I’m o.k.’ he whispered.

            ‘Just go slow,’ Dean instructed, still kneeling between my legs. He was watching in close up as Gould lifted himself tentatively, paused and then slid himself down again.

This time the lad found it easier. And his long, flaccid cock flopped against my stomach. When he rose up again he left a patch of precum on me which glistened in the light from the fire. He started a slow rhythm, pushing himself up with his legs and his arms until the rim of my cock head started to stretch his sphincter, then he’d slide down again, letting me penetrate as far as he wanted before repeating the movement.

Once I knew that he was in control, had relaxed and was enjoying the new feeling, I relaxed too and began to notice what I felt: The heat from his arse, the smoothness of his thighs as I rested my hands on them, and something else. Dean’s tongue as he tried to push his face against my balls and lick them when Gould’s movement would allow. I reached for he boy’s cock, stroked it back to firmness, rubbed his own juice around the head with my thumbs. I played with his balls.

            ‘Feel good Alex?’

            ‘Oh yes sir,’ the boy panted back. ‘Feels really good. It doesn’t hurt anymore.’

            ‘You like to have an older boy’s cock in you?’

            ‘I like it very much sir.’

            ‘What do you like about it most?’ Dean had stood up and was now standing beside me, his cock still sticking straight out, swollen and ready.

            ‘I like the feel of it,’ Gould tried to say. ‘I like the way it stretches my arse. It makes my prick even harder, feeling Stuart’s prick inside me. I like to feel his hair against my arse. I like to see his face. I like to see that I’m making him happy.’

            ‘I like to watch your smooth little cock,’ Dean said as he stroked his own really slowly. ‘I like to watch my best friend burry his eighteen year old dick into a virgin.’

            ‘It’s making my balls ache,’ Gould said between gasps. ‘I can feel them getting tight. I like the way he’s wanking me.’

            ‘I’m not touching you,’ I said and the boy looked down. I’d stopped playing with his cock, it was fully hard again.

            ‘It feels like someone’s sucking on my cock as I’m sitting on his,’ Gould said in wonder. ‘I think it’s going to make me spunk up soon.’

            ‘Have you ever seen an older boy’s spunk?’ Dean asked him.

            ‘No sir, never. Only the boys in my dorm.’

            ‘Are their cocks as big as ours?’

            ‘No.’

            ‘Do they let you suck them?’

            ‘No.’

            ‘Do they let you sit on their cocks?’

            ‘No.’

            ‘He’s getting close,’ I said. I could feel his arse tighten and his breathing was getting faster.

            ‘Let us see you come off,’ Dean grabbed the lad’s arse with one hand, stroked it.

            ‘Yes sir,’ the boy gasped and tried to reach for his prick.

            ‘Leave that, you won’t need to touch it,’ Dean said and immediately the lad gripped the chair again.

            ‘Fuck him Stu,’ Dean was also panting. I could tell he was getting close. I decided it was time we all let go.

I took hold of Gould’s slim hips, gripped him tight and took over. Now I was lifting him and planting him, using his young fame to wank myself off into him. He reached out and grabbed Dean’s fat cock, started to pull on it, started to wank him while all the time his own little dick bounced around, slapping against me as I slammed him onto my shaft and then springing up in the air as I lifted him.

            ‘I’m going to fill you with spunk Alex,’ I said, my teeth gritted.

I slammed him down onto me, ground his little hips around, felt his smooth arse flatten against my hairy legs and shot my spunk up his arse.

            ‘Oh yeah!’ the lad called out. ‘Fuck me sir.’

I lifted him and slammed him again in time for another spurt, and then another.

            ‘You’re getting fucked for the first time,’ I heard myself say. ‘I’m filing you with my spunk and I’m fucking a virgin lad for the…’

            ‘I’m coming,’ the boy gasped. ‘Oh sir… oh yes… please…’

            ‘Look at me,’ Dean ordered. The boy had closed his eyes. He opened them now and they were clouded with confusion and wonder. ‘Look at me as I watch you come.’

Gould panted, gasped, let out a strangled moan and screwed up his face. I pushed him down onto my cock once and for all and twisted him. I kept pushing him down, kept him impaled on my painfully throbbing, spent cock as I watched his. It jerked. He yelled out. I slid him back and forth across my lap, forcing my cock as deep into him as it would go while it was still hard; giving his as much pleasure as I could. He let go of Dean’s cock and looked at me.

            ‘Oh Jesus sir,’ he said in disbelief and then looked down.

His young cock spewed out a stream of hot, white spunk that flew up and at me. I opened my mouth and caught the first of it right on my tongue.

            ‘Oh fuck, oh fuck,’ I heard Dean grunt. I reached out my hand and grabbed my mate’s balls. I pulled on them. ‘That’s it Stuart.’

            ‘Sir…’

The lad’s cock erupted again, another stream of spunk splattered onto my chest. His balls were practically indivisible now, up into him and working hard. His arse tightened around my cock. He fell forward as a third spurt of juice shot from his little cock and landed hot on my stomach. Dean grabbed his head, turned it to face him.

            ‘Open,’ he gasped and the boy obeyed.

Dean held his head with one hand and pulled on his cock with the other. He came hard and loads, dumping it all into the boy’s open mouth.

            ‘Taste it,’ I encouraged. ‘Taste what an older boy’s spunk is like.’

            ‘Fuck, fuck, yes,’ Dean wanked harder and came again; another wad of spunk hit the boy’s face. The boy moaned with pleasure and licked where he could reach.

Dean couldn’t stand it any more. He pushed the boys open, cum filed mouth over the end of his cock and spurted again, this time into his throat.

            ‘Swallow me,’ he grunted. ‘Swallow my come.’ He thrust his hips, held the lad’s face against his fury bush and made the boy gag as he unloaded everything from his manly ball sack into the virgin mouth.

            ‘Jesus he’s a good Fag,’ Dean whispered as the boy licked the last of the cum from Dean’s red cock head. ‘We must keep this one.’

            ‘Thank you sir,’ Gould said as he was finally allowed to leave Dean’s cock alone.

           

The boy lay down, stretched across me, with his head against my chest. My cock slipped from his wet arse and flopped exhausted against my leg. Between us I could feel his spunk cold and sticky now, like it was gluing us together. Dean had already started looking around for another drink. He poked the fire and went to crash in his armchair.

I felt Alex’s breathing calm down, his heart rate slowed. His fingers brushed against the side of my face and he looked up at me.

Without saying anything else he kissed me once, lay his head down again and promptly fell asleep.

Ó www.bookpuppy.co.uk">http://www.bookpuppy.co.uk/">www.bookpuppy.co.uk

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Caught on Camera

lukepreston on Gay Stories

They were a pleasant couple, in their twenties, obviously from somewhere like South London judging by their accents and on holiday. They’d come to the café where I was working and always sat outside at a table in the sun. But we don’t often get English speaking visitors to the remote area I now live in and they were keen to chat and find out about the place they were visiting, from ‘a local’. The village where I live and work is high up in the mountains, the main tourist resorts are down on the coast but occasionally more intrepid holidaymakers choose to

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stay up in the mountains and forgo the beaches and night clubs.

After stopping at the bar a few times we got talking, I’d finished my shift and came to sit with them. They thought I was just being friendly. I was, but there was another motive too. As she, her name was Marie, asked endless questions about what it was like to live in the Canary islands during the winter, what were the houses like and so on, her boyfriend, Mark, sipped his beer and stared off into the distance. When I could, I took a glance at him, hoping to catch his eye and draw him into the conversation. It didn’t happen. Maybe he’d picked up on the fact that I found him attractive, maybe I made him feel uncomfortable, they knew I was gay, and she seemed thrilled by the fact. He seemed worried by it.

Eventually it seemed only polite that I invite them to come for drinks up at the villa so that they could see what a real ‘local’ house was like and take in the views I have from the roof. We made a date for the following evening and I told them how to find the place, saying that I would meet them at eight at the end of the lane.

And, at eight the following evening I was at the end of the cobbled street, sweating from the intense heat and waiting. After ten minutes I decide that they had changed their minds. Maybe Mark had persuaded her not to come, fearing some sort of ulterior motive was at play. I decided to give them another ten minutes.

And then I saw a figure in the distance, climbing laboriously up the steep path towards me. I recognised the boyfriend from his sturdy, solid frame. He wore shorts and boots and he seemed to be struggling with the effort of lifting his legs for each step he took. It was quite a climb from the café to this part of the village and I guessed that they were town people, not much used to walking. As he came closer he saw me and waved. Eventually he panted to a halt before me.

‘Jesus, that’s hard work mate,’ he gasped.

‘I should have warned you. Where’s Marie?’

‘Long story, but in a nutshell she had too much Bacardi last night and too much sun today. She’s flat out in bed.’

My heart did a back flip as I realised I would have him on my own for a couple of hours. He was slightly tanned from his holiday and this added the dark looks he already had. His short black hair was glistening with beads of sweat and his blue eyes glinted out from under dark brows as he looked at me, smiled and shook his head.

‘I’m not walking up here again,’ he laughed. ‘I just came to tell you that we can’t make it tonight. Sorry to let you down but Marie’s not up to it.’

And my heart sank.

‘You’re almost there now,’ I said, thinking quickly. ‘You may as well stop for a beer. There’s the house.’ I pointed up hill. My house was only four doors away.

He looked uncertain. ‘Honestly mate, another time.’

‘Come on, you can cool down before setting off again,’ I said and turned, giving him no choice but to follow.

‘Just a quick one then,’ I heard him say and he definitely sounded uncomfortable.

I showed him into the living room and he went straight to the wide patio doors. Beyond these was the spectacular view of the valley below. Miles away and down the coast line ran from east to west and the sun was just nearing the sea where it would soon set.

‘Nice house,’ he said. ‘Nice view.’

‘Thanks,’ I replied. His tee shirt was stuck to his back with sweat, darkened in patches between his shoulder blades. His shorts hung over his arse and, where they too were heavy with sweat, they clung to his cheeks and accentuated their roundness. The view I was looking at was just as good.

‘Beer?’ I asked.

‘Cheers.’

When I returned from the kitchen he was still standing at the window looking out. I invited him to come and sit.

‘Don’t want to get your sofa messed up mate,’ he said looking at the leather sofa I had sat on and indicating his sweaty clothes.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ I smiled. ‘It will wipe clean.’

He thought for a moment and then chose to sit opposite me on one of the matching chairs. I’d worn my own brand of football shorts for the evening, silky and cool and, with nothing on underneath them I knew that I had to watch how I sat. If I lifted my leg up and placed my foot on the sofa, as I usually did, the shorts would stretch to show off my packet. And if I moved my other leg to one side slightly then the leg of my shorts would hang open and anyone sitting opposite would be able to see that I was wearing nothing beneath them. For the moment I sat with my legs together.

Instinctively I offered him a cigarette.

‘No thanks mate, I don’t smoke… cigarettes.’ There was an impish twinkle in his eye and he winked. Without making any reaction at all I offered a cigarette box from the coffee table between us.

‘Something stronger then?’ I opened the lid to show him a few ready rolled joints. He practically licked his lips as he helped himself.

We smoked in silence, the sun set far away and the light in the room dimmed. I turned on a table lamp, crossed the room and put on some music. He finished his beer quickly and refused a second. When I sat down again I noticed that he had changed position. He was no longer sitting upright and ridged but had slipped back in his chair a little, he looked more relaxed.

‘So how long have you and Marie been together?’ I asked, feeling that some sort of conversation should be started.

‘Only a few months,’ he replied and that was all he had to say.

‘She’s very pretty,’ I complemented, ‘you’ve done well.’

‘Ta.’ He looked around the room. ‘It’s a posh place you got here, what do you do for money?’

It was a bit of a direct question, but reasonable. It was obvious that I hadn’t made my money from working in a sleepy, Spanish bar half way up a mountain.

‘Photography,’ I said simply.

‘Yeah? Neat.’ He took a long, deep drag on his joint and held it in. I did the same and, without thinking pulled my right leg up onto the sofa.

As he exhaled his eyes dropped and his gaze fell directly on the front of my shorts. I rubbed my bare foot and lowered it to the floor again. He looked up at my face.

‘What kind of photography?’ he asked and I noticed that his speech was already a little slurred.

I slid a book across the coffee table to him and he picked it up. Opened it, looked at a few pages and then closed it again.

‘Oh,’ he said blankly.

‘Not your kind of thing?’ I asked with a smile.

‘Not really mate. Got any with naked women?’

‘I only photograph male nudes.’

‘Oh.’

He changed again, became more uncomfortable and looked at his watch.

‘I should go,’ he said and started to stand.

‘Calm down,’ I said with a laugh. ‘You’re quite safe. I turned off the hidden cameras before you came.’

He looked at me in shock and then decided that I was joking and a ladish grin spread across his face.

‘Finish your joint first,’ I said. ‘Or have another if you like.’

He did. Half way through the second one, when we had been sitting in silence for about five minutes, he suddenly sat upright.

‘Are you o.k.?’ I asked, concerned in case the dope had made him feel sick.

‘You’re a professional?’ he said it more as a statement than a question.

‘Yes I am,’ I replied indicating the book on the coffee table. ‘I have published several volumes all over the world.’

‘Would you take a picture of me?’

‘I don’t do holiday snaps,’ I laughed. But he was serious.

‘No, I mean like them in the book.’

‘Nude?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well I could do.’ I had no idea where this sudden interest had come from and assumed it was the dope talking. ‘What would Marie say though?’

‘I wouldn’t tell her.’

‘So what would you use the pictures for?’

‘I dunno. Forget it.’

‘It’s up to you. I’m happy to do it, if you want.’

‘How much would you charge?’ he suddenly realised that I might want paying. It was, after all, my job.

‘We’d work something out,’ I said and lifted my foot onto the sofa again.

This time he looked into my crotch quickly and kept his eyes there. I shifted my left leg and knew that he could now see up the leg of my shorts. If I was hinting at something he knew what it was. I could feel cool air whisper around my semi hard cock that now lay against my inner thigh. He slid back in his chair and it was my turn to look at the front of his shorts. The white material fell back against his groin, defining the shape of what lay beneath. His legs, stocky and hairy, were pushed out in front of him and he crossed his ankles, his dusty boots resting on each other.

‘That would make a good shot,’ I said. ‘Try putting your hands behind your head.’

He gave me a quizzical look and then his cheeky grin returned. ‘Yeah?’ he asked. ‘Like this?’

I nodded. With his hands behind his head his body was fully stretched out. His tee shirt, now dry, had risen up from his shorts and revealed a line of dark hair running down from his navel. His stomach looked as though it had once been taught but was now slightly flabby from beer and a sedentary lifestyle. But his face glowed, his eyes were half closed and he looked like some young teenager waiting for his first kiss.

‘Don’t move,’ I said.

When I came back from my studio, camera in hand, he was in the same position. The only thing that had changed was the look in his eyes. They had closed further and he looked stoned.

‘Open your eyes a little,’ I instructed as I set the camera.

He did and they were red. That was o.k. I was using my digital camera and set it to black and white.

‘Now what?’ he asked after I had taken a couple of shots.

‘Pull your shirt up a little,’ I switched from looking through the view finder to looking directly at him, keeping my professional attitude.

‘Like this mate?’ He kept one hand behind his head while he used the other to drag his shirt up to his chest. He was playing with me, being as seductive as he could but not making a very good job of it.

‘No, put your palm flat on your stomach, that’s it. Now slowly draw it up so the shirt gathers on your wrist.’

The movement revealed his flesh to me slowly. Tanned, covered with a slight matt of dark hair. He looked down at what he was doing.

‘Look at the camera,’ I said.

He looked at it and smiled a tourist’s false smile.

‘Relax,’ I laughed. He frowned.

‘What?’

‘This isn’t one for the family album. Imagine that the camera is some girl you’re trying to pull, flirt with it.’

He snorted, coughed and said, ‘alright darling?’ directly to the camera.

‘O.k.’ I put the camera down. ‘This isn’t going to work.’

‘Oh no, come on mate. I’ll try harder. Just tell me what to do, talk me through it, o.k.?’

‘O.k.’

I checked the room, where would be a good place to photograph him?

‘Follow me,’ I said and went into the hall.

When he came from the living room, staggering a little and giggling, I was standing by the bathroom door. I nodded my head in the direction of the bathroom.

‘Straight up?’ he said incredulously.

‘You want to do this right don’t you?’

He shrugged and stepped inside. The bathroom was large. It had a marble corner bath with gold plated taps and a shower over it. The whole room was carpeted and lit by tiny spotlights hidden in the ceiling. He whistled admiringly as he went in.

‘Here we go,’ I said, my professional voice returning. ‘What I want you to do Mark, is this: put one foot up on the edge of the bath and start to undo your boots. That’s it, look this way. Turn a little away from me.’

This movement accentuated the shape of his arse, his football shorts pulled tight around it.

‘You’re a soccer star just off the field. You’re gunna take a bath, get yourself ready for a night on the town with the girls, o.k.?’

‘Sure.’

‘So, undo the lace, take the boot off and drop it, that’s it. Now, change sides and do the same with the other. Let me get a close up.’

I crouched down in front of him and pointed the camera to his foot. His hands were trembling on his Doc Marten boot, grey from street dust.

‘Relax,’ I reminded him. ‘Let the dope do its work and let yourself go. You just won the game, no need to be nervous.’

‘Sorry mate.’

I panned out. In the view finder I could just see the hem of his shorts. I tilted upwards and snapped the front. No bulge, nothing showing. A dead shot. I stood back a little.

‘O.k., now the fun part. Lean over and turn the shower on. It’s the knob there.’

He did as he was told. As he reached across the bath his shirt rode up at the back revealing the base of his spine. I saw a smooth back with no hair, the top of his arse crack just visible from the top of his shorts. Water started to pour out from the shower.

‘Give it a moment to warm up and then get in.’

‘What?’

‘Get in the bath.’

‘Sure?’

‘Yup.’

He did and stood there facing me with the shower pouring into the bath behind him.

‘O.k. Mark, do exactly as I say and we’ll have you on the front cover of Esquire.’ For one horrible moment I thought he believed me, he nodded keenly like an obedient school boy.

‘Lift your arms to your head and clasp your hands behind. That’s it, now tilt your head back and get it wet. Further.’

He put his face under the shower, water jetted out all around him, bouncing off his face and wetting his shirt. It started to stick to his chest again and, with him leaning back, his chest showed through hard and defined.

‘Now shake your head, wash that football match out of your hair. Open your mouth, let the water trickle into your throat, let it bubble out over your chin and run down your body. Feel good? O.k. step forward and slowly, very slowly remove your shirt. Pull it up from the bottom and over your head.’

Slowly his naked chest came into view. Between his pecs a line of black hair formed a wet covering, around his nipples more dark hair hung matted and soaked. His dark, pink nipples stood out against the water that rained on them from above.

‘That’s it, Mark, nice and slow. Hold it there.’

His shirt was covering his head. All there was in the viewfinder was a naked torso and the outline of his face pressing against the sodden material.

‘And now all the way off, chuck it away. Good lad.’ I kept talking to him now that he was getting into the shoot, I didn’t want him to lose the impetus or change his mind. ‘Now turn away from me, get under again. That’s it. Take some of that shower wash there and cover yourself. Go on, get the mud and sweat from the football field out of your skin. Massage it in, all over your chest, under your arms, around your neck.’

I photographed each change in his muscles as he lathered his upper body. I focused in on his hands as they smeared froth around the back of his neck and shot the glistening, short hair on the back of his head. I followed the rivulets of soap as they meandered down his spine and slid across the rounds of his backside. Jealous of their ability to caress the full, smooth shorts I moved the viewfinder to his legs, shot the backs of his knees, then travelled up again, framed the sodden football shorts that clung to his lad’s arse and defined its dark crack. And then further up again to the strong shoulders, all the time encouraging him.

‘Rub it in Mark. Imagine that there’s a girl in there with you and she’s doing it.’ I had a plan here. I wanted him turned on when he turned around. ‘Can you feel those soft, delicate fingers massaging your skin? Can you feel her hands playing over your chest? She’s taking your nipples between her fingers now. Her nails are pinching into them, gently, sensuously. She wants you Mark, she wants to go down and take your hard cock in her hands, guide it to her soft lips and lick her tongue gently along your length. You’re the star; she’s yours to do what you want with. And she’s going to make you come as you pump your straight man cock into her young mouth.’

His hands had slipped down his chest, played with his nipples and were now pushing into the tops of his shorts.

‘Turn to me now Mark, turn slowly and play your hands over your stomach.’

He did. His shorts were almost transparent now, a thick, stocky and dark cock was pressing against them. The pinkness of his cock head showed through the white material as he turned to face me. Above this a black shadow showed where his bushy pubes were and below his cock I could see his balls hanging free and warm.

‘Put your hands over your shaft, hold it through the shorts. Let it show. Let her see what a huge pole you have. Can you feel her breathing on it? Can you feel the water running into your shorts and trickling past your arse? Can you feel her fingers as she takes your cock and slowly wanks it, bringing it all the time closer to her mouth? That’s good Mark, that’s really hot. You’re turning her on. She’s begging you for it. Now, hands inside your shorts. Push them down, slowly mate, slowly let her see what you’ve got.’

His eyes were closed, his smile broad. It was as if he was in a trance now, feeling this unseen girl as she undressed him when all the time he was undressing for me. His shorts were lowered. His pubes came into view, thick and black and then the wide base of his solid cock. Slowly the shorts were pushed lower and his shaft was revealed, stocky and fat with a network of veins full and pumping. And then his head broke free, his cock snapped up, slapped against his bush and pointed straight at me. Still the shorts came lower. His balls swung free, hanging heavy in their stretched sack.

‘Turn around again,’ I ordered. He did as he was told. ‘Now bend down to take your shorts right off, push them all the way down to your ankles, and bend. That’s a good lad.’

In this position his arse was forced open and I zoomed in on the wrinkled, dark hole hiding in amid the forest of hair.

‘That’s good. Now step out of them, stand up, turn to face me, good lad. Rub the soap over your chest. That’s it, massage it in, squeeze your nipples. Nice. Hey, I like the smile, that’s a wicked smile you have Mark. You’re a good looking lad. No wonder the girls want you to fuck them. Now move your hands lower, rub your palms over your stomach, lower Mark, feel your pubes. Get your fingers in there, twist them, scratch your skin in there with your nails. That’s it, you can be rough. You’re a tough lad. Now run your hands under your balls, take them in your fist, lock them in there, pull them up, show her, show her your balls, that’s it. Feels good doesn’t it?’

‘Feels great,’ he murmured.

‘Now imagine she’s at your cock again. You’re the star, you’re the hero, the player with the biggest cock. She’s on her knees. Take your cock in one hand, grip it at the base, grasp it, feel your power as you shove it in her mouth. That’s it, it’s into her throat, feel her warmth around it.’

The water was still running down his body, running streams around his hands, hot water splashing over his inflamed cock head, his slit opening to let his pre cum ooze out.

‘Take your other hand, feel you arse. Run your palm around it. Feel into your crack, feels good doesn’t it? Let a finger play on your hole.’

He gasped and stretched his body up rigid when he found his hole. ‘Feels so good,’ he whispered to himself. I shot him as he opened his mouth, speaking through his smile.

‘Let it slide in further Mark, try it, see how it feels.’

‘Yeah, that’s great,’ he said.

I had trouble hearing over the sound of the running water but I could read his expression. He was talking to himself through his trance. ‘That feels real good.’ He was well into this now.

‘And think Mark. Think what you want to happen next. What does she do to you? What do you want to happen now?’

All the time my camera was clicking away, I had over one hundred shots now, there was nothing left to photograph apart from his cum, and I knew that was not far away. I put the camera to one side and stepped forward.

‘Tell me Mark, tell me what happens next.’

I could see that he was fucking is tight arse with a finger behind him, his hips were thrust forward and he was slowly wanking his foreskin back and forth over his fat, purple head. His mouth was open slightly, water running in and trickling out. His eyes still shut.

‘Suck me,’ he whispered.

‘I didn’t hear you,’ I lied.

‘Suck me,’ he said it louder.

‘I can’t hear you.’

‘Please, suck me! Someone suck my cock.’

I stepped into the bath. The warm water immediately soaked my clothes. I put one arm around him, and turned off the shower.

His eyes snapped open. They were inches away from mine, our bodies touching. I could feel his fist as it pumped on his shaft and banged against my belly, his cock head pressed against my shorts.

Without saying a word I put both hands on his shoulders and pushed him gently to his knees.

‘You first,’ I said.

I expected him to resist but he didn’t. Before I knew it he had pulled my shorts down and his mouth was around my swollen cock. I held his head and pushed it into my groin, gyrated my hips so that I could feel his straight face buried in my pubes. I used his head to wank myself, grasping him firmly and thumping my hips against him like I was giving him some sort of punishment. His hands gripped my legs to steady himself and I could hear him grunt with surprise at what he was doing, what he was tasting. What he was enjoying.

I looked up at the shower hanging overhead, to the fitting that held it to the wall, and winked.

And then I felt myself about to unload.

‘I’m coming Mark,’ I said and held my cock in his throat. ‘I’m going to fill your mouth with cum.’ I pulled back out. ‘You want to find out what a man’s cum tastes like?’ I thrust back in again, my legs were shaking. ‘You want to feel the hot splash of juice on the back of your throat?’ I drew right out, tilted his head so that he looked up at me. His eyes were wide, begging. ‘Do you?’

He didn’t answer, just dived onto my cock again and pulled me into his face. He feasted greedily, grunting, panting; desperate to find out what another man tasted like. I showed him. I heard him gag, felt my own hot cum fill his mouth around my cock, felt myself jerk against him, heard him whimper, give in, accept it. And I pumped him until I could stand it no longer. My cock slipped from his mouth and I drew him up to me so that we were staring into each other’s eyes. He opened his mouth and I could see it was still full with my juice. And, with it still open, he swallowed it all.

His cock was pressing against my wet thigh, his chest against my shirt. I turned him to the side and put one arm around him, stroked the fur on his arse cheeks and then let two fingers slip into his tight, hot hole. His eyes widened in surprise. With my other hand I tickled and stroked his balls. I didn’t touch his cock.

‘Feel that inside you,’ I whispered into his ear. ‘Feel how good it is to let someone give you so much pleasure.’

‘Wank me please,’ he said desperately.

‘I am,’ I replied and started sliding my fingers in and out of his arse, all the time teasing his balls.

He jolted and squirmed, tried to grasp his cock, I pushed his hands away. Instead he grabbed mine, it stiffened again, painful but willing. I could feel his body twist and slide against mine as I massaged him inside. I heard him swear, pant, whimper in disbelief. I could smell his sweat, his breath and could feel his heart racing in his chest.

‘Just imagine that’s my cock in there, fucking you.’

My words whispered into his ear and were followed by my tongue as I licked him, tasted him. I felt his hair against my forehead.

‘Jesus,’ he said, ‘I’m gunna….’

‘I know, just let it happen.’

‘Wank my cock… oh fuck.’

I had three fingers in him now, each thrust of my hand lifting him to his toes. I twisted his balls into my hand and pulled them down. I turned him so that his cock was pressed against me, sliding up under my shirt and rubbing against my stomach. He grappled for my cock. His pulling on my tool got stronger, more desperate.

‘Oh no,’ he started to grunt short gasps of abandon. ‘I’m coming, fuck, fuck, fuck me. Harder.’

As I slid my fingers into him I drew him towards me, his cock rubbed against me and I jerked down on his balls. And then I felt it. A long, scorching stream of straight lad’s cum shot up my stomach and warmed my flesh.

I looked into his eyes, wide, blue, his dark brows raised in confusion. And I wrapped my lips around his. Our tongues fought. Another stream of hot juice splattered under my wet shirt and I could feel his cock slide around in his own cum as he fucked it against me. My fingers reached into him deeper and I pulled him to me tighter.

My cock spat for a second time, covering his hand with my own spunk as he pulled in un-rhythmic jerking movements. I kept my fingers inside him, played my thumb around the top of his arse, removed my other hand from his balls and held the back of his head, pushed him closer to me, held us together as he subsided. All there was left to do then was kiss and he explored my mouth with his like he knew this was the only chance he would get to kiss another man.

Slowly, I let my fingers leave him, but I kept my palm against his arse, enjoying the feeling of his skin, knowing that I held a straight guy in my arms and that he was kissing me, holding my cock. Knowing that he had asked me to fuck him, asked me to suck him. And knowing that those pleasures were yet to come.

I looked over his shoulder and back up to the shower fitting. The small, black-glass plate reflected the lights from the ceiling. Behind the glass the tiny red light was still showing. And I knew that I had it all on tape.

© www.bookpuppy.co.uk/contribute">http://www.bookpuppy.co.uk/contribute">www.bookpuppy.co.uk/contribute

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Footballer voyeur

lukepreston on Voyeur Stories

Pedro was staying with a girlfriend in her rented flat in Paris. He was passing through really, on his way to London for a charity football match in two day’s time. He’d left his home in Milan, where he played for the city team, the day before and had arranged to take a couple of days out to rest up before the game in England. He’d not seen Anna for a year or so and they’d agreed that it was high time they caught up on news. They’d been teenage lovers once, many years ago back in Milan, and now they were able to enjoy the intimacy of friendship without the threat of sexual innuendo hanging over them. Stayin

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g at her place in Paris gave Pedro the chance to get away from the spotlight, the Paparazzi and the training schedules. It was only a charity match and he could just turn up and play so there was no need to spend several days in a hotel, pre-match training and psyching himself up. He was on holiday and that was that.

But Anna had been called into work that evening leaving Pedro alone in the flat, kicking his heels and wondering what he should do. He didn’t like sitting still, didn’t enjoy time away from physical activity and he was becoming restless. He knew he should be relaxing, that’s what holidays were about, but doing nothing didn’t sit well with him. He’d wandered about the place, checking through the books on the shelves, all in French, thumbed through the DVDs, found nothing he wanted to watch, and had been searching around the cable channels trying to find something on TV to take his mind off his inactivity. His restlessness was not helped by the weather. It was July, the city was heating up in a heat-wave and the flat had no air conditioning. Dusk had settled in outside and, through the tall French windows he could see the orange glow of the city lighting the night sky beyond the block of flats opposite. There wasn’t even a view to admire. Anna’s flat was hemmed in by another block directly opposite and separated by a small courtyard.

He wandered out onto the balcony and the closeness of the air struck him. He could smell the city fumes, warmed and intensified by the heat of the dying day. The sounds of car horns and police sirens echoed around the courtyard below and drifted past him into the ether. It was as dull out there as it was inside. Nothing to do but wait for Anna to come home so they could sit up late and chat again. He contemplated going out but couldn’t be bothered to get dressed. He’d showered and put on a pair of light shorts with nothing underneath and had thrown on one of his playing tops. He stood on the balcony barefoot and leaned on the chest high railing, simply staring across at the windows opposite. Most of them were shuttered or curtained, only one light was on. About two floors below he could see a guy sitting at a computer. At least he could see the torso, the head was hidden from view by the top of the patio doors and the angle from which Pedro looked down. Just some nerd surfing his evening away. Dull.

This wasn’t doing him any good, he found himself getting wound up. He wanted to do something but nothing appealed. He padded back inside and wandered into Anna’s room to stand in front of the full length mirror and talk to himself.

‘What’s this all about?’ he asked. ‘What’s wrong with you today?’

His reflection didn’t answer. It just stared back at him with its green eyes. The head of dark hair shook itself at him. ‘You know what you need?’ it asked. ‘What?’ he replied, flatly.

In the mirror he saw the eyes drift down and focus on the front of his shorts and felt the soft material hang baggy around his thick thighs. He swung his hips from side to side and watched the outline of his cock as it settled back into place. He did it again and it grew a little bigger. Then he looked back at his reflection and it was smiling at him. A wry, lopsided grin showed off the famous gap where his tooth was missing. That smile told him they had reached an agreement.

‘Right, but who’s gunna do that for me right now?’ he growled back. ‘You do it,’ his reflection said. ‘Not the same,’ he answered. ‘Anna?’ ‘Huh, doubt it.’

Giving up on that idea he stomped back to the balcony to get some more, smog choked air and lent against the railing as before. A bead of sweat ran into his eye and he rubbed it away. Once he could see clearly again he looked down at the surfing nerd. He couldn’t make out what he was looking at down there on his PC but he was now leaning forward, studying screen closely.

‘Probably checking out my score record from the European Championships,’ Pedro thought to himself smugly and gave a short laugh. But then an action caught his eye. The guy below had shoved a hand into the front of his track suit bottoms and Pedro thought he saw him grab and pull. ‘Interesting,’ he thought, ‘the dirty git’s looking at porn.’

He inched along the balcony to his right a few paces and checked around. No one else was outside or in the courtyard as far as he could tell. The light from the living room behind him was casting his shadow onto the building opposite and there were no other shadows, so no one else was above or below him. Maybe that’s why the nerd had his curtains open, no fear of being seen. Or so he thought. Pedro squinted at the screen, it was about twenty feet below and he could just make out flesh coloured tones on the monitor. He couldn’t see what sex they were or what the pictures were of but they were definitely naked. He could see small patches of dark hair between legs but that was about it. Yup, the nerd was surfing for porn and playing with himself.

Pedro crouched a little, holding onto the railing for balance and peering through the ironwork. The nerd had removed his hand and Pedro could see a lump in the track suit. The nerd clicked onto a new page, the picture on the screen went white and then started to fill from top to bottom with one, enlarged picture. Two people; one underneath, one riding on top. Still, though, it was impossible to see what sex they were.

‘Well, this is more interesting than the TV,’ Pedro muttered to himself and trained his eyes on the PC. The picture changed again but still he couldn’t quite make out what it was of. The nerd’s hand went back into his trousers and pulled away more slowly than before. Pedro felt his own cock stirring again. The breeze was creeping up from below and he could feel the air enter the legs of his shorts and investigate around his balls while his cock brushed gently against the silkiness of the material. That felt good. It also felt good watching someone else getting off on porn. No harm in that. Just a guy doing what Pedro wanted to be doing. He could look at porn and pull himself off, it would be something to do. But Anna didn’t have a PC at the flat and so he’d have to watch from there.

Then and idea struck him and he slipped back inside. For some reason his heart had started to beat faster and he felt nervous. Maybe it was because he knew what he was going to do, maybe because what he was going to do was like cheating, whatever the reason it felt exciting and good. He found his camera from his suitcase and came back outside to crouch in the same position. A quick check. No one around, only him and the nerd with the hard on. He put the camera to his eye, squinted and zoomed in.

The nerd’s hand was still working away in his trousers alright, slowly up and down, but now it had been joined by the other hand and this one was attending to the guy’s balls by the looks of things. Pedro settled himself against the railings, squatting down so that his arse was pulled wide. His knees were spread and he was almost sitting on the balcony floor. He was comfortable like this. He trained hard; he was strong and flexible and could maintain this pose for ages.

The nerd removed his hands and started to push down his track suit. ‘Not sure I want to see this,’ Pedro said to himself but kept the camera trained in the same place. A bush of blonde pubic hair came into view and then disappeared as the guy lifted himself up. He sat again almost straight away, the trousers free from under him. Pedro’s nervousness increased when he saw the guy’s cock lying semi erect against his thigh. Not as big as Pedro’s but just as thick, it seemed to shine in the artificial light of the flat. The head was circumcised and pink. The nerd freed his balls from between his legs and the cock came to rest centrally on them. They were nearly hairless, round like flesh-coloured golf balls. And then the guy started to play with them again, cupping them underneath and squeezing them with his left hand while his right one drew circles with a finger around the inside of his thigh, stroking his own legs but not touching his cock. The guy reached forward, presumably to click the mouse again, and then sat back. The cock started to rise up, it didn’t get longer just firmer and he still didn’t touch it. He dug his fingers into his pubes and massaged them, scrunching the skin up and pulling it taught so that his cock rose perpendicular, then letting it all go so it flopped down onto the smooth balls that he was still working on. He did this a few times and then let everything go. He lent back, stretched out his legs and just left his cock standing there, 45 degrees from the blonde bush at its base.

‘Must be changing screens again,’ Pedro thought and moved the camera to see more clearly what the guy was looking at.

The screen was blank. He adjusted his zoom so that he could see more clearly. There was the menu bar across the top but nothing had come up yet.

But then it started. Slowly. Either this guy had a very slow connection, or else it was a very big file. Pedro looked back at the guy’s groin. He was still hard. This picture was obviously worth waiting for. Back at the screen: A line or two of blue. Sky. Then the tops of trees in the distance and then the top of someone’s head. The hair was glistening in sunlight, it was an outdoor photo. A forehead came into view. A man’s. That confirmed it, the nerd was queer. Now eyebrows were starting to show, dark and the face they were on was tanned. Ears, and then green eyes, both open and shining. Then the nose and mouth, no facial hair, clean shaven, and then the man’s smile. A cocky, wry smile that showed off a gap where a tooth had once been.

‘Fuck me!’ Pedro realised that he was looking at a picture of himself. Rather, that he was watching another guy wanking over a picture of himself. He didn’t know how to feel about this but then a pain in his groin told him what he should be feeling. His cock was rock hard and straining at the leg of his shorts. He’d suddenly got so turned on that the material had ridden up his leg and the end of his cock was open to the warm evening air.

But the picture had not finished downloading. He saw his naked shoulders, his wide chest with its dark covering of thick hair, his flat stomach and then… When was this photo taken? Then he saw dark hair between his legs, a flaccid cock hanging over tight, small balls. Not his. Someone had made this up. The face was his, even the chest was his but someone had morphed the cock and legs onto him. He let out a short laugh. So the nerd was getting off on his face and someone else’s dick.

He pulled the camera away from the screen and back to the chair. It was empty. The guy was not there. Pedro pulled the camera way from his eyes and stood up. Down below the guy was on his balcony. And looking up at him. He was no nerd. He was good looking, blonde, well built. He had a defined chest and strong, naked legs. His cock was now rock hard and he was pulling on it slowly. His eyes, from what Pedro could see, were fixed on the footballer’s shorts and he didn’t seem to care who might see.

Without thinking Pedro reached up a leg of his shorts and pulled it across so that his cock and balls hung open in the air. He let it stand there and brought the camera up to his eye again. He focused in on the guys face and saw him lick his lips. The he pointed the lens downwards and widened the shot to get in all of the other guy’s crotch. One hand was slowly stroking his shaft as the other cupped and squeezed below.

Pedro clicked the shutter. He had no idea why. The picture blacked and then came back. Holding the camera with one hand he started playing with his own ball sack, feeling its weight as he bounced it lightly for the benefit of his watcher. The other guy’s speed increased. Pedro took hold of his cock and drew his foreskin back slowly, tempting the guy with the sight of his purple head, all the time keeping his attention on the cut blonde cock that was on show for him. This was o.k. This was just a bit of lad’s fun. Pedro wasn’t gay, the nerd clearly was, but Pedro wasn’t touching him or sucking him off so there was no harm. He’d just let the guy get off on the sight of his idol holding his cock for a while and then go and jack off while thinking about Anna as a teenager.

Suddenly something happened. The nerd backed off, went back inside and the light went out. All Pedro could see was the PC monitor. It had flicked to a screensaver and bathed the room with a dull blue light.

‘Oh bollocks,’ Pedro said to himself. He had been turned on and needed release.

He was a bit surprised at his own thought but then he was horny and any kind of sex was o.k. with him when he needed it to be. As he’d said, it wasn’t as if they were touching so it wasn’t really sex with another guy was it? He went back into the living room and kicked off his shorts. He started pulling on his cock and tried to bring up a picture of Anna naked but all he could see were a pair of small, smooth balls and a thick cock being stroked slowly and deliberately for him.   He imagined the guy appearing at the door to the flat, walking in, dropping his tracksuit. Pedro imagined what it would be like if he knelt down and took the cock in his mouth. What would it taste like. What would those slippery looking orbs feel like in his hands. What would the guy do if he had his hero suck on them. What would it feel like if the blonde came down his throat and pumped his spunk into Pedro’s mouth. And then what would it be like to turn the guy around and bury his face into the smooth flesh of his arse. To lick his hole and taste another man like that. How would it feel when Pedro was sliding his cock into him, slippery and wet from the licking he had just given it. How would it feel to have the other guy gasp and pant underneath him as his idol, the football star, slid his heterosexual dick as deep into his cute arse as it would reach. To feel his dark hairy bollocks slap up against the light flesh and hold the guy’s slim hips as he thrust harder. How would it feel to fuck another man for the first time, to hold onto the limp, drained cock and rub his fingers over the circumcised head. To twist his golden pubes in his fist as he slammed the guy form behind. How good it would be to hear the guy beg him to shoot up his arse and how good it would be for Pedro to hear his own voice, begging the guy to tighten up. Pleading with him push back and milk Pedro’s streaming cock as he spurted deep inside.

And to feel the other guy lean back against him and twist to try and kiss him. And how would it feel to kiss him back, to lock their tongues and taste another man’s spit. To feel the warmth and the equal power as they bucked together while Pedro spent himself inside another male. How good it would feel. To lie with the blonde under him, their fingers twisting together, their breathing the same, as Pedro pulled his dying cock from the guy and turned him beneath so that they could kiss again.

How good it would be.

Pedro’s eyes snapped open at the sound of the door bell.

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The Greek Lads (part 2)

lukepreston on Gay Stories

I retraced my steps in my mind. I’d been on the island only a few days. I’d hungered for some young, Greek flesh and now one of the café lads had followed me home, stripped down to his white briefs and sucked me dry. And now I was following him to my bed. He wanted me to show him the pleasures of sex between two men and I could do anything I wanted with him.

As he entered the room the last remaining light of the day filtered

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in through the long windows and lit his back with shadowy patterns. His shoulders were as strong from behind as his chest had been from the front, and similarly his torso shaped in to his slim hips. The tightness of his underwear showed the perfect roundness of his innocent arse, enveloping it and inviting me to experience it. I would, in time. He was mine for as long as I wanted and I wanted time to recover so that I could once again empty myself deep inside him. The next time though I would have him buck and moan beneath me as I held him and took him from behind. But in time. I had other pleasures for him first.

He stopped by the end of the bed and turned back to look at me. His large, brown eyes caught a ray of sunlight and glinted. He was smiling again, that cheeky, ladish grin told me he was relieved that I was there with him and that his request had been granted. He made to remove his shorts, pushing a thumb in either side, but I stopped him. I took hold of both his arms and held them away. And then I pulled him towards me so that our faces were almost touching. I looked into his deep, longing eyes and smiled. Lost for words I simply kissed him lightly on the mouth where I could taste the musky, lingering smell of my own cum mixed with his youthful scent.

I lay him down on his back and sat beside him on the edge of the bed. Twisting myself around I could lean over him and bear down to kiss his forehead. He tried to grab me and pull me onto him, but again I stopped him. I wanted him to know who was in charge and so placed his arms on the pillow above his head. Like this he was prone, open and defenceless.   And like this I could see his whole, smooth skinned body stretched out below me, mine for the taking. I kissed his forehead again and could smell his shampoo. His short, dark hair was gelled and groomed. He may have been a labourer by day but after work he took trouble to preen himself. His hair was washed, his face, save for the trace of sweat from his earlier exertions, was clean, closely shaved, no stubble. I ran my fingers across his soft cheek, cupping it in one large hand and tracing the shape of his nose with my thumb. As it crossed his lips I pushed a little harder and it slid in. Immediately his hot mouth was working on it, desperate to be sucking again. I smiled. He was eager and he was willing. But he would have to wait.

With his arms resting behind his head the downy soft hair beneath them was exposed to me and my mouth travelled there to explore and lick. He squirmed slightly, not sure if he liked this mild torture, and I knew that no one had ever done this for him before. My tongue moved across his chest, my nose nuzzling the small V of hair between his firm pecs before my mouth came to linger above a small, hard nipple.   I shifted my own arms so that I was gripping his, pinning him gently down to the mattress. And then my tongue flicked across the top of the nipple. Just one slight touch and I heard him gasp, felt him struggle slightly in my grip. But I was not going to let him go. If this was exciting him, just wait until I got lower down. I flicked the nipple again and again he made a sound. This time it was a murmur of pleasure and encouragement. I drew the sensitive, erect mound into my mouth and worked my tongue around it some more; pushing down with my face so that he could feel my weight on him. His hips rose and his chest tried to fight me off, pushing back at me. But I had him held. I gave him a couple of tiny, painless bites and his moaning crescendoed. And then I released my pressure and travelled back to the other side.

He received the same treatment there and returned the same sounds of enjoyment, but now he was not fighting back, he was offering up words in Greek, softly spoken and almost begging. I glanced up from where I was teasing him with my mouth and his eyes were wide in wonder. I paused, he smiled. I caught him off guard and clamped his nipple between my teeth, just hard enough to see him push his head back into the bed, close his eyes and let out a deep groan.

And then I was on the move again, trailing down the flat belly, wetting the whisper thin line of hair that led like a map to the top of his shorts. As I did this I carefully climbed across his legs, coming to kneel between them so that I had him laid out before me. I looked at him again but his eyes were closed. His arms, though, were still obediently lying beyond his head in submissive compliance. I looked back at the slim body, placed my large hands on each hip bone and pushed my tongue into his belly button. He squirmed and raised his hips. I pushed them back down with my grip and started to kiss lower. I could smell the fabric of his shorts, the washing powder even, and I could taste the salt on his skin. Being careful not to touch the straining hardness that was bound within, I gave him firm kisses on his shorts. Starting out at his hips and working my way into his inner thigh. Pushing his legs a little further apart I was able to burrow my face in deeper, pushing up the leg of his shorts and revealing a slight growth of dark hair, just between his balls and the top of his legs where the pelvic bone shows through. Without warning I clamped my mouth around his flesh in there and worked it hard with my tongue. He thrashed beneath me, making short grunting sounds as his body tried to twist free. But it was not to be. Pinning him harder I flashed to his other side, giving the same treatment to the never before explored area. Again he writhed and gasped and I smiled to myself knowing that I was showing him something new, something exciting, something he could teach to the other lads he hung out with.

I gave him a pause; worked my way down his strong, muscled legs until I came to his long, brown feet. Now I was kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed and I drew his legs in together. From there I could look up the length of his body, but his face was obscured now by the straining bulge in the front of his skin tight shorts. All he wanted was for me to strip them from him and give his cock the same attention as he had given mine. But he was going to have to wait for that, I had another treat in store for him before I allowed either of us the satisfaction of working on his cock.

I took his ankles in my hands and started to turn him, he knew what I wanted and rolled onto his stomach without resistance. From my crouched position I could see along his legs, well toned and with only a soft covering of dark hairs, to the small mound of his arse. It was tempting me closer. I started to work my way back up, kissing and nibbling from the soles of his feet, always upwards, always slowly, until I reached the back of his knees. As soon as I started working my tongue in there the sounds he made amplified. His legs stiffened as he felt this new sensation shoot through him and I could see his hips lift from the bed as the pleasure/pain flashed from his legs to his groin and back again. I teased him some more, drinking in the scent of his innocence and revelling in the joy these new sensations were giving him.

And then it was time to move closer to my goal; to the silky smooth skin that I would find beneath those secret-keeping shorts. As I moved up between his legs they parted willingly, allowing me access to where he now knew I was going. My hands stroked the way ahead, flattening the downy hairs on the back of his legs, stroking his flesh and massaging my route to his arse. When I reached it I was able to take one cheek in each of my wide palms and claw at his muscles as he had done at mine, pulling the material of his shorts up so that they would be even tighter at the front. And then I took both sides of the shorts in one hand and twisted so the material came together in one line; pulled upwards and it slid in between his arse cheeks, revealing the dark, smooth flesh to me on either side. And then I pulled just a little harder so that he could feel the tension against his hole.

His groans had now turned to near desperate sobs, and he had buried his face into the sheets to muffle the sounds he was unable to control. With his shorts wedged up against him like this I started to kiss his cheeks. One side then the other, wetting them with my saliva, sucking them in between my lips and taking small bites, just to let him know I had him at my command. His hips ground into the bed making circular movements, rubbing his swollen cock against the sheets below. His arse rose to meet me as I chewed it, licked it, savoured it.

And just when he thought I could show him no more ecstasy I pulled the back of his shorts down revealing to me his darkly puckered hole. It was begging to be serviced, his hips pushing it up towards me, opening him out. And I had led him on far enough. Pulling the shorts as far from my target as I could I leant down towards him and rested my stubbled chin on the top of his hairless arse crack. Then slowly, applying pressure, drew my face downwards, scratching at his sensitive, untouched flesh and making him moan louder. I felt my chin scrape over his hole and he gasped a high pitched sound of surprise. And then my tongue was on it. Flicking at it, poking gently as I drew in the sweet scent of his sweat. It flicked harder, started to penetrate, to part the virgin ring little by little until it was exploring just inside. My mouth surrounded his hole, my nose buried deep into his cheeks and I pulled his arse open a little wider.

He was pushing back into me with more force now. His words were muffled but they urged me on. His hips rose with more desperation and I could feel his head twist from side to side. I pulled him up to his knees and he took the position gratefully, saying ‘yes,’ through his wild groaning. My hands were around his hips, so slender that my fingers almost touched in the front. I gave him more of my stubble, grating it across his slippery anus as I slurped up and down his crack. And then I let my hands slip to the front of his shorts where his young cock was still trapped and straining. As I dug my tongue deeper into him I let my fingers gently play down his solid shaft, barely tickling it through the cotton. I cupped his small balls in one hand and rolled them around, my fingertips playing on them, stroking them. He was working himself up to come. I could feel his body start to spasm, I could hear louder whimpers of desperation. I was going to bring him off without touching the flesh of his 19 year old cock. I just ran my fingernails up and down his shaft, scratched at its engorged head through the shorts and pinched it with my nails as I worked on his ball sack and chewed out his arse.

He was thrusting back into my face with more force now, circling his arse around and pushing back wanting me in deeper. But he would get that later. Later I’d be doing this with my thick cock buried in him. We had all night. He could wait. For now I just wanted to feel him struggle with delight, hear him gasp and whine like a caged puppy as I brought him close to the edge just by licking his hole and torturing his shaft.

In desperation he tried to reach in under himself and grab for his cock, but I was stronger and pushed his hands away. He tried to fight back. I just parted his cheeks further and ground my tongue into his soft, warm insides. He tried to twist around but I kept him pinned there with one squeeze of his small, vulnerable nuts. He gave in, his head slammed down onto the bed and he let out a slow, long moan.

This was it. With a quick movement I tugged the front of his shorts, finally releasing his swollen cock and heard it slap up against his stomach. I gripped his hips with my hands and started ramming him back into my face, fucking his arse with my tongue, not giving him a chance to do anything but succumb to orgasm. I didn’t touch his cock again, I didn’t need to, I just kept pulling him back, pushing him away, pulling him back, going in deeper, listening to him moan, getting louder, getting nearer, digging my stubble into the red raw flesh of his crack, gripping him tighter, feeling him tremble in my hands, as my relentless rhythm sent him over the edge. He let out a deep, angry grunt, then another and his sphincter contracted. He jolted back into me with a sudden spasm and his body went rigid. I could hear the splat of cum hitting his chest, hitting my bed and I could hear him grunt again and again as my rimming continued until every drop was out of him and he started to slow down.

I kept working on him there while his gasps subsided into deep breathing. Kissing his round cheeks and stroking gently at the red marks that my face had left. I worked my thumb around his hole, slipping it over and then in with the lubrication of my spit. He moaned contentedly as my thumb went in and I knew then that there would be more to come. My cock was solid again and I was ready to unload my second wad of the night into his tasty Greek arse. But he was not ready. Not yet, and besides, I’d not yet tasted, nor even seen, his youthful lad cock in the flesh.

I let him lie flat on his stomach, knelt up and wiped my mouth. And then I lay down over him so that my cock rested hard and ready along his hairless crack. I wrapped my arms around him from behind and he searched for my hands under himself. We lay, our sweat mingling in the warmth of the evening, and he pulled me tighter down onto him.

‘I want you to fuck me,’ he whispered. ‘But se ligo.’

‘Se ligo?’ I replied?

‘In a while,’ he said and there was a dreamy, far away contentment in his voice.

‘We have all night.’

He turned his face to mine and kissed me, long, hard almost desperate. ‘And let’s take all night,’ he replied and pushed his compact little arse back into the hardness of my cock.

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Caught on Camera

lukepreston on Gay Stories

They were a pleasant couple, in their twenties, obviously from somewhere like South London judging by their accents and on holiday. They’d come to the café where I was working and always sat outside at a table in the sun. But we don’t often get English speaking visitors to the remote area I now live in and they were keen to chat and find out about the place they were visiting, from ‘a local’. The village where I live and work is high up in the mountains, the main tourist resorts are down on the coast but occasionally more intrepid holidaymakers choose to stay up in the mountains and forgo the beaches and night clubs.

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After stopping at the bar a few times we got talking, I’d finished my shift and came to sit with them. They thought I was just being friendly. I was, but there was another motive too. As she, her name was Marie, asked endless questions about what it was like to live in the Canary islands during the winter, what were the houses like and so on, her boyfriend, Mark, sipped his beer and stared off into the distance. When I could, I took a glance at him, hoping to catch his eye and draw him into the conversation. It didn’t happen. Maybe he’d picked up on the fact that I found him attractive, maybe I made him feel uncomfortable, they knew I was gay, and she seemed thrilled by the fact. He seemed worried by it.

Eventually it seemed only polite that I invite them to come for drinks up at the villa so that they could see what a real ‘local’ house was like and take in the views I have from the roof. We made a date for the following evening and I told them how to find the place, saying that I would meet them at eight at the end of the lane.

And, at eight the following evening I was at the end of the cobbled street, sweating from the intense heat and waiting. After ten minutes I decide that they had changed their minds. Maybe Mark had persuaded her not to come, fearing some sort of ulterior motive was at play. I decided to give them another ten minutes.

And then I saw a figure in the distance, climbing laboriously up the steep path towards me. I recognised the boyfriend from his sturdy, solid frame. He wore shorts and boots and he seemed to be struggling with the effort of lifting his legs for each step he took. It was quite a climb from the café to this part of the village and I guessed that they were town people, not much used to walking. As he came closer he saw me and waved. Eventually he panted to a halt before me.

‘Jesus, that’s hard work mate,’ he gasped.

‘I should have warned you. Where’s Marie?’

‘Long story, but in a nutshell she had too much Bacardi last night and too much sun today. She’s flat out in bed.’

My heart did a back flip as I realised I would have him on my own for a couple of hours. He was slightly tanned from his holiday and this added the dark looks he already had. His short black hair was glistening with beads of sweat and his blue eyes glinted out from under dark brows as he looked at me, smiled and shook his head.

‘I’m not walking up here again,’ he laughed. ‘I just came to tell you that we can’t make it tonight. Sorry to let you down but Marie’s not up to it.’

And my heart sank.

‘You’re almost there now,’ I said, thinking quickly. ‘You may as well stop for a beer. There’s the house.’ I pointed up hill. My house was only four doors away.

He looked uncertain. ‘Honestly mate, another time.’

‘Come on, you can cool down before setting off again,’ I said and turned, giving him no choice but to follow.

‘Just a quick one then,’ I heard him say and he definitely sounded uncomfortable.

I showed him into the living room and he went straight to the wide patio doors. Beyond these was the spectacular view of the valley below. Miles away and down the coast line ran from east to west and the sun was just nearing the sea where it would soon set.

‘Nice house,’ he said. ‘Nice view.’

‘Thanks,’ I replied. His tee shirt was stuck to his back with sweat, darkened in patches between his shoulder blades. His shorts hung over his arse and, where they too were heavy with sweat, they clung to his cheeks and accentuated their roundness. The view I was looking at was just as good.

‘Beer?’ I asked.

‘Cheers.’

When I returned from the kitchen he was still standing at the window looking out. I invited him to come and sit.

‘Don’t want to get your sofa messed up mate,’ he said looking at the leather sofa I had sat on and indicating his sweaty clothes.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ I smiled. ‘It will wipe clean.’

He thought for a moment and then chose to sit opposite me on one of the matching chairs. I’d worn my own brand of football shorts for the evening, silky and cool and, with nothing on underneath them I knew that I had to watch how I sat. If I lifted my leg up and placed my foot on the sofa, as I usually did, the shorts would stretch to show off my packet. And if I moved my other leg to one side slightly then the leg of my shorts would hang open and anyone sitting opposite would be able to see that I was wearing nothing beneath them. For the moment I sat with my legs together.

Instinctively I offered him a cigarette.

‘No thanks mate, I don’t smoke… cigarettes.’ There was an impish twinkle in his eye and he winked. Without making any reaction at all I offered a cigarette box from the coffee table between us.

‘Something stronger then?’ I opened the lid to show him a few ready rolled joints. He practically licked his lips as he helped himself.

We smoked in silence, the sun set far away and the light in the room dimmed. I turned on a table lamp, crossed the room and put on some music. He finished his beer quickly and refused a second. When I sat down again I noticed that he had changed position. He was no longer sitting upright and ridged but had slipped back in his chair a little, he looked more relaxed.

‘So how long have you and Marie been together?’ I asked, feeling that some sort of conversation should be started.

‘Only a few months,’ he replied and that was all he had to say.

‘She’s very pretty,’ I complemented, ‘you’ve done well.’

‘Ta.’ He looked around the room. ‘It’s a posh place you got here, what do you do for money?’

It was a bit of a direct question, but reasonable. It was obvious that I hadn’t made my money from working in a sleepy, Spanish bar half way up a mountain.

‘Photography,’ I said simply.

‘Yeah? Neat.’ He took a long, deep drag on his joint and held it in. I did the same and, without thinking pulled my right leg up onto the sofa.

As he exhaled his eyes dropped and his gaze fell directly on the front of my shorts. I rubbed my bare foot and lowered it to the floor again. He looked up at my face.

‘What kind of photography?’ he asked and I noticed that his speech was already a little slurred.

I slid a book across the coffee table to him and he picked it up. Opened it, looked at a few pages and then closed it again.

‘Oh,’ he said blankly.

‘Not your kind of thing?’ I asked with a smile.

‘Not really mate. Got any with naked women?’

‘I only photograph male nudes.’

‘Oh.’

He changed again, became more uncomfortable and looked at his watch.

‘I should go,’ he said and started to stand.

‘Calm down,’ I said with a laugh. ‘You’re quite safe. I turned off the hidden cameras before you came.’

He looked at me in shock and then decided that I was joking and a ladish grin spread across his face.

‘Finish your joint first,’ I said. ‘Or have another if you like.’

He did. Half way through the second one, when we had been sitting in silence for about five minutes, he suddenly sat upright.

‘Are you o.k.?’ I asked, concerned in case the dope had made him feel sick.

‘You’re a professional?’ he said it more as a statement than a question.

‘Yes I am,’ I replied indicating the book on the coffee table. ‘I have published several volumes all over the world.’

‘Would you take a picture of me?’

‘I don’t do holiday snaps,’ I laughed. But he was serious.

‘No, I mean like them in the book.’

‘Nude?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well I could do.’ I had no idea where this sudden interest had come from and assumed it was the dope talking. ‘What would Marie say though?’

‘I wouldn’t tell her.’

‘So what would you use the pictures for?’

‘I dunno. Forget it.’

‘It’s up to you. I’m happy to do it, if you want.’

‘How much would you charge?’ he suddenly realised that I might want paying. It was, after all, my job.

‘We’d work something out,’ I said and lifted my foot onto the sofa again.

This time he looked into my crotch quickly and kept his eyes there. I shifted my left leg and knew that he could now see up the leg of my shorts. If I was hinting at something he knew what it was. I could feel cool air whisper around my semi hard cock that now lay against my inner thigh. He slid back in his chair and it was my turn to look at the front of his shorts. The white material fell back against his groin, defining the shape of what lay beneath. His legs, stocky and hairy, were pushed out in front of him and he crossed his ankles, his dusty boots resting on each other.

‘That would make a good shot,’ I said. ‘Try putting your hands behind your head.’

He gave me a quizzical look and then his cheeky grin returned. ‘Yeah?’ he asked. ‘Like this?’

I nodded. With his hands behind his head his body was fully stretched out. His tee shirt, now dry, had risen up from his shorts and revealed a line of dark hair running down from his navel. His stomach looked as though it had once been taught but was now slightly flabby from beer and a sedentary lifestyle. But his face glowed, his eyes were half closed and he looked like some young teenager waiting for his first kiss.

‘Don’t move,’ I said.

When I came back from my studio, camera in hand, he was in the same position. The only thing that had changed was the look in his eyes. They had closed further and he looked stoned.

‘Open your eyes a little,’ I instructed as I set the camera.

He did and they were red. That was o.k. I was using my digital camera and set it to black and white.

‘Now what?’ he asked after I had taken a couple of shots.

‘Pull your shirt up a little,’ I switched from looking through the view finder to looking directly at him, keeping my professional attitude.

‘Like this mate?’ He kept one hand behind his head while he used the other to drag his shirt up to his chest. He was playing with me, being as seductive as he could but not making a very good job of it.

‘No, put your palm flat on your stomach, that’s it. Now slowly draw it up so the shirt gathers on your wrist.’

The movement revealed his flesh to me slowly. Tanned, covered with a slight matt of dark hair. He looked down at what he was doing.

‘Look at the camera,’ I said.

He looked at it and smiled a tourist’s false smile.

‘Relax,’ I laughed. He frowned.

‘What?’

‘This isn’t one for the family album. Imagine that the camera is some girl you’re trying to pull, flirt with it.’

He snorted, coughed and said, ‘alright darling?’ directly to the camera.

‘O.k.’ I put the camera down. ‘This isn’t going to work.’

‘Oh no, come on mate. I’ll try harder. Just tell me what to do, talk me through it, o.k.?’

‘O.k.’

I checked the room, where would be a good place to photograph him?

‘Follow me,’ I said and went into the hall.

When he came from the living room, staggering a little and giggling, I was standing by the bathroom door. I nodded my head in the direction of the bathroom.

‘Straight up?’ he said incredulously.

‘You want to do this right don’t you?’

He shrugged and stepped inside. The bathroom was large. It had a marble corner bath with gold plated taps and a shower over it. The whole room was carpeted and lit by tiny spotlights hidden in the ceiling. He whistled admiringly as he went in.

‘Here we go,’ I said, my professional voice returning. ‘What I want you to do Mark, is this: put one foot up on the edge of the bath and start to undo your boots. That’s it, look this way. Turn a little away from me.’

This movement accentuated the shape of his arse, his football shorts pulled tight around it.

‘You’re a soccer star just off the field. You’re gunna take a bath, get yourself ready for a night on the town with the girls, o.k.?’

‘Sure.’

‘So, undo the lace, take the boot off and drop it, that’s it. Now, change sides and do the same with the other. Let me get a close up.’

I crouched down in front of him and pointed the camera to his foot. His hands were trembling on his Doc Marten boot, grey from street dust.

‘Relax,’ I reminded him. ‘Let the dope do its work and let yourself go. You just won the game, no need to be nervous.’

‘Sorry mate.’

I panned out. In the view finder I could just see the hem of his shorts. I tilted upwards and snapped the front. No bulge, nothing showing. A dead shot. I stood back a little.

‘O.k., now the fun part. Lean over and turn the shower on. It’s the knob there.’

He did as he was told. As he reached across the bath his shirt rode up at the back revealing the base of his spine. I saw a smooth back with no hair, the top of his arse crack just visible from the top of his shorts. Water started to pour out from the shower.

‘Give it a moment to warm up and then get in.’

‘What?’

‘Get in the bath.’

‘Sure?’

‘Yup.’

He did and stood there facing me with the shower pouring into the bath behind him.

‘O.k. Mark, do exactly as I say and we’ll have you on the front cover of Esquire.’ For one horrible moment I thought he believed me, he nodded keenly like an obedient school boy.

‘Lift your arms to your head and clasp your hands behind. That’s it, now tilt your head back and get it wet. Further.’

He put his face under the shower, water jetted out all around him, bouncing off his face and wetting his shirt. It started to stick to his chest again and, with him leaning back, his chest showed through hard and defined.

‘Now shake your head, wash that football match out of your hair. Open your mouth, let the water trickle into your throat, let it bubble out over your chin and run down your body. Feel good? O.k. step forward and slowly, very slowly remove your shirt. Pull it up from the bottom and over your head.’

Slowly his naked chest came into view. Between his pecs a line of black hair formed a wet covering, around his nipples more dark hair hung matted and soaked. His dark, pink nipples stood out against the water that rained on them from above.

‘That’s it, Mark, nice and slow. Hold it there.’

His shirt was covering his head. All there was in the viewfinder was a naked torso and the outline of his face pressing against the sodden material.

‘And now all the way off, chuck it away. Good lad.’ I kept talking to him now that he was getting into the shoot, I didn’t want him to lose the impetus or change his mind. ‘Now turn away from me, get under again. That’s it. Take some of that shower wash there and cover yourself. Go on, get the mud and sweat from the football field out of your skin. Massage it in, all over your chest, under your arms, around your neck.’

I photographed each change in his muscles as he lathered his upper body. I focused in on his hands as they smeared froth around the back of his neck and shot the glistening, short hair on the back of his head. I followed the rivulets of soap as they meandered down his spine and slid across the rounds of his backside. Jealous of their ability to caress the full, smooth shorts I moved the viewfinder to his legs, shot the backs of his knees, then travelled up again, framed the sodden football shorts that clung to his lad’s arse and defined its dark crack. And then further up again to the strong shoulders, all the time encouraging him.

‘Rub it in Mark. Imagine that there’s a girl in there with you and she’s doing it.’ I had a plan here. I wanted him turned on when he turned around. ‘Can you feel those soft, delicate fingers massaging your skin? Can you feel her hands playing over your chest? She’s taking your nipples between her fingers now. Her nails are pinching into them, gently, sensuously. She wants you Mark, she wants to go down and take your hard cock in her hands, guide it to her soft lips and lick her tongue gently along your length. You’re the star; she’s yours to do what you want with. And she’s going to make you come as you pump your straight man cock into her young mouth.’

His hands had slipped down his chest, played with his nipples and were now pushing into the tops of his shorts.

‘Turn to me now Mark, turn slowly and play your hands over your stomach.’

He did. His shorts were almost transparent now, a thick, stocky and dark cock was pressing against them. The pinkness of his cock head showed through the white material as he turned to face me. Above this a black shadow showed where his bushy pubes were and below his cock I could see his balls hanging free and warm.

‘Put your hands over your shaft, hold it through the shorts. Let it show. Let her see what a huge pole you have. Can you feel her breathing on it? Can you feel the water running into your shorts and trickling past your arse? Can you feel her fingers as she takes your cock and slowly wanks it, bringing it all the time closer to her mouth? That’s good Mark, that’s really hot. You’re turning her on. She’s begging you for it. Now, hands inside your shorts. Push them down, slowly mate, slowly let her see what you’ve got.’

His eyes were closed, his smile broad. It was as if he was in a trance now, feeling this unseen girl as she undressed him when all the time he was undressing for me. His shorts were lowered. His pubes came into view, thick and black and then the wide base of his solid cock. Slowly the shorts were pushed lower and his shaft was revealed, stocky and fat with a network of veins full and pumping. And then his head broke free, his cock snapped up, slapped against his bush and pointed straight at me. Still the shorts came lower. His balls swung free, hanging heavy in their stretched sack.

‘Turn around again,’ I ordered. He did as he was told. ‘Now bend down to take your shorts right off, push them all the way down to your ankles, and bend. That’s a good lad.’

In this position his arse was forced open and I zoomed in on the wrinkled, dark hole hiding in amid the forest of hair.

‘That’s good. Now step out of them, stand up, turn to face me, good lad. Rub the soap over your chest. That’s it, massage it in, squeeze your nipples. Nice. Hey, I like the smile, that’s a wicked smile you have Mark. You’re a good looking lad. No wonder the girls want you to fuck them. Now move your hands lower, rub your palms over your stomach, lower Mark, feel your pubes. Get your fingers in there, twist them, scratch your skin in there with your nails. That’s it, you can be rough. You’re a tough lad. Now run your hands under your balls, take them in your fist, lock them in there, pull them up, show her, show her your balls, that’s it. Feels good doesn’t it?’

‘Feels great,’ he murmured.

‘Now imagine she’s at your cock again. You’re the star, you’re the hero, the player with the biggest cock. She’s on her knees. Take your cock in one hand, grip it at the base, grasp it, feel your power as you shove it in her mouth. That’s it, it’s into her throat, feel her warmth around it.’

The water was still running down his body, running streams around his hands, hot water splashing over his inflamed cock head, his slit opening to let his pre cum ooze out.

‘Take your other hand, feel you arse. Run your palm around it. Feel into your crack, feels good doesn’t it? Let a finger play on your hole.’

He gasped and stretched his body up rigid when he found his hole. ‘Feels so good,’ he whispered to himself. I shot him as he opened his mouth, speaking through his smile.

‘Let it slide in further Mark, try it, see how it feels.’

‘Yeah, that’s great,’ he said.

I had trouble hearing over the sound of the running water but I could read his expression. He was talking to himself through his trance. ‘That feels real good.’ He was well into this now.

‘And think Mark. Think what you want to happen next. What does she do to you? What do you want to happen now?’

All the time my camera was clicking away, I had over one hundred shots now, there was nothing left to photograph apart from his cum, and I knew that was not far away. I put the camera to one side and stepped forward.

‘Tell me Mark, tell me what happens next.’

I could see that he was fucking is tight arse with a finger behind him, his hips were thrust forward and he was slowly wanking his foreskin back and forth over his fat, purple head. His mouth was open slightly, water running in and trickling out. His eyes still shut.

‘Suck me,’ he whispered.

‘I didn’t hear you,’ I lied.

‘Suck me,’ he said it louder.

‘I can’t hear you.’

‘Please, suck me! Someone suck my cock.’

I stepped into the bath. The warm water immediately soaked my clothes. I put one arm around him, and turned off the shower.

His eyes snapped open. They were inches away from mine, our bodies touching. I could feel his fist as it pumped on his shaft and banged against my belly, his cock head pressed against my shorts.

Without saying a word I put both hands on his shoulders and pushed him gently to his knees.

‘You first,’ I said.

I expected him to resist but he didn’t. Before I knew it he had pulled my shorts down and his mouth was around my swollen cock. I held his head and pushed it into my groin, gyrated my hips so that I could feel his straight face buried in my pubes. I used his head to wank myself, grasping him firmly and thumping my hips against him like I was giving him some sort of punishment. His hands gripped my legs to steady himself and I could hear him grunt with surprise at what he was doing, what he was tasting. What he was enjoying.

I looked up at the shower hanging overhead, to the fitting that held it to the wall, and winked.

And then I felt myself about to unload.

‘I’m coming Mark,’ I said and held my cock in his throat. ‘I’m going to fill your mouth with cum.’ I pulled back out. ‘You want to find out what a man’s cum tastes like?’ I thrust back in again, my legs were shaking. ‘You want to feel the hot splash of juice on the back of your throat?’ I drew right out, tilted his head so that he looked up at me. His eyes were wide, begging. ‘Do you?’

He didn’t answer, just dived onto my cock again and pulled me into his face. He feasted greedily, grunting, panting; desperate to find out what another man tasted like. I showed him. I heard him gag, felt my own hot cum fill his mouth around my cock, felt myself jerk against him, heard him whimper, give in, accept it. And I pumped him until I could stand it no longer. My cock slipped from his mouth and I drew him up to me so that we were staring into each other’s eyes. He opened his mouth and I could see it was still full with my juice. And, with it still open, he swallowed it all.

His cock was pressing against my wet thigh, his chest against my shirt. I turned him to the side and put one arm around him, stroked the fur on his arse cheeks and then let two fingers slip into his tight, hot hole. His eyes widened in surprise. With my other hand I tickled and stroked his balls. I didn’t touch his cock.

‘Feel that inside you,’ I whispered into his ear. ‘Feel how good it is to let someone give you so much pleasure.’

‘Wank me please,’ he said desperately.

‘I am,’ I replied and started sliding my fingers in and out of his arse, all the time teasing his balls.

He jolted and squirmed, tried to grasp his cock, I pushed his hands away. Instead he grabbed mine, it stiffened again, painful but willing. I could feel his body twist and slide against mine as I massaged him inside. I heard him swear, pant, whimper in disbelief. I could smell his sweat, his breath and could feel his heart racing in his chest.

‘Just imagine that’s my cock in there, fucking you.’

My words whispered into his ear and were followed by my tongue as I licked him, tasted him. I felt his hair against my forehead.

‘Jesus,’ he said, ‘I’m gunna….’

‘I know, just let it happen.’

‘Wank my cock… oh fuck.’

I had three fingers in him now, each thrust of my hand lifting him to his toes. I twisted his balls into my hand and pulled them down. I turned him so that his cock was pressed against me, sliding up under my shirt and rubbing against my stomach. He grappled for my cock. His pulling on my tool got stronger, more desperate.

‘Oh no,’ he started to grunt short gasps of abandon. ‘I’m coming, fuck, fuck, fuck me. Harder.’

As I slid my fingers into him I drew him towards me, his cock rubbed against me and I jerked down on his balls. And then I felt it. A long, scorching stream of straight lad’s cum shot up my stomach and warmed my flesh.

I looked into his eyes, wide, blue, his dark brows raised in confusion. And I wrapped my lips around his. Our tongues fought. Another stream of hot juice splattered under my wet shirt and I could feel his cock slide around in his own cum as he fucked it against me. My fingers reached into him deeper and I pulled him to me tighter.

My cock spat for a second time, covering his hand with my own spunk as he pulled in un-rhythmic jerking movements. I kept my fingers inside him, played my thumb around the top of his arse, removed my other hand from his balls and held the back of his head, pushed him closer to me, held us together as he subsided. All there was left to do then was kiss and he explored my mouth with his like he knew this was the only chance he would get to kiss another man.

Slowly, I let my fingers leave him, but I kept my palm against his arse, enjoying the feeling of his skin, knowing that I held a straight guy in my arms and that he was kissing me, holding my cock. Knowing that he had asked me to fuck him, asked me to suck him. And knowing that those pleasures were yet to come.

I looked over his shoulder and back up to the shower fitting. The small, black-glass plate reflected the lights from the ceiling. Behind the glass the tiny red light was still showing. And I knew that I had it all on tape.

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The Lonely Road

lukepreston on Gay Stories

            I walked across an island. It was a barren, arid place that the sun had relentlessly tortured for millions of years before. Each rock bore testimony to the span of timelessness as they waited by the path for some new traveller to walk past and ignore them; to ignore their history and their suffering. But I appreciated them as I sat a while and gazed across the rough, naked landscape, searching. For what? There were no living souls for miles, hardly a tree survived in the blasting heat so why would I expect there to be people there.

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Not people, a person. Only a myth maybe, but a myth is still a hope.

            I had been told, by those who said they knew and those who believed, that the myth was real. The old men who sat out their days in the silence of the village below had assured me. When they had discovered that I was interested in their myth they had broken their routine for me, had spoken and had wished me luck in my search; a search which had brought me to a high part of the island.

            I could see nothing in this wilderness save for the sun battered rocks, the aggressive sharp bushes that clung desperately to life like they clung to the dry soil and the far away, flat sea that surrounded everything. It curved with the earth where it met the horizon and faded into the sky at some distant place that I would never reach. Nothing moved up there in the heated still hour, no wind to dry the sweat from my back, no breeze to tantalise me with a promise to cool, and no sound but for the beating of my heart.

            I was alone with only silence for company. Silence and hope.

            Until a rock moved. Somewhere above me on a slope something disturbed the ancient placement of shingle and pebbles. A stone that had been covered for centuries, rolled, jolted into life by the trespass of an alien foot. It trickled down to the path and settled into a new home, adjusted to its change in scenery and fell immediately back to sleep, there to remain unmoved for another thousand years.

            And then more joined it, jostling down the slope beside me and racing to find the best place on the path to lie and wait. An excited chatter of movement signalling that someone was coming down the slope, pushing the debris of time before them as they slid, side foot first, pushing history aside in their descent.

            He didn’t see me. He stepped down to the road with his back to me and, once recovered from the scramble, looked ahead. I said nothing. I had been told that if I were to see him then all I need do was remain silent, watch and accept the signs he would give me. My heart, recently recovered from my own scramble up to this point, began to work itself again. A light skip jolted it into action with the realisation that he had found me and, from then on, it worked to beat itself a steadier rhythm.

            I watched him.

            A young man, slender with strong shoulders, dark hair and bare feet. He wore a roughly made shirt without sleeves that fell free from the back of his shorts. Shorts made from a different, ancient material that held tight to his hips but hung uneven over his dark legs. In one hand he carried a crook, hewn from some long dead tree, gnarled and worn by time. But his hand was smooth, his skin young and unaffected by the harshness of his land. His other hand was raised to his brow, shielding the sun as he searched the horizon ahead.

            I just watched and waited for the sign.

            They had said there would be signs. I should learn to read the omens that the myth decreed would be there. All there was to do was know the signs and follow them. For once you can do that you can then find your treasure. Your dream, your destiny. Call it what you will. To find the thing you seek you must learn to read the signs that are there only for you.

            But I knew that he understood what I was doing there. I knew that he had seen me, had watched me climb the path to this part of the mountain at this hour. We were alone. There was nothing out there but our destiny. He was there for me.

            He bent to collect a stone and I watched as he placed it in his palm, turning it with his fingers and cooling it. He threw it ahead of himself and I watched it fly, saw it glint in the sun and spin as it flew. It soared high before falling back to earth, landing gently and in silence on the path some way ahead.

            And while I had been watching it, the boy had gone. I was alone again. Just me and the sign, the stone that lay shining and bright among its hard, grey companions on the path. I walked to the place and picked it up, put it in my pocket and looked at the road ahead.

            Now it wound to the left where before it had turned to the right. I followed it and descended for a while until I was shielded from the sun by tall Cyprus trees that had grown there only for me. The way became cooler, a breeze moved among the dark green above me and changed the light that dappled the path ahead, showing me my destiny in a display of white light and dark shade, always changing, never standing still.

            Until I came to a gate. A coarsely made collection of branches and dead wood, bound with rope to two standing stones on either side. There was no need for the gate, I could easily walk around the stones and continue on my path. But there was a gate and it was there for a reason. A sign. I untied the labyrinth of knots that bound it on one side and lifted it open. Stepped through, closed it, tied it and walked on.

            He was waiting for me among the rocks. They were not barren anymore. A thick covering of soft moss now grew where once the sun had baked. The earth beneath my feet was now pliable. The air was cooler and damp. On either side of me cliffs rose up, and above them the canopy of leaves now fully protected me from the sun.

            He had put his crook to one side and had discarded his clothes. He lent back against a moss covered boulder, his feet crossed, his arms by his side. And he looked at me while I undressed.

            He looked into me, saw what I wanted, knew what he had to give and lifted his arms, opened them and drew me towards him. His eyes, dark and compassionate, looked deep inside me and drew me closer. When he smiled I knew that I had known him all my life. He had always been there, in dreams, in idle thoughts, in places I had only visited in imagination, he had always been with me. I had just never found him before.

            His arms wrapped around my back and his hands lifted to rest on my shoulders. A slender finger brushed my neck as he pulled my head to rest beside his. He said nothing as he cupped my head in his hand and stroked my hair, calming me, bringing me down to the safety of the peaceful place he lived in. Our chests rose and fell together with our breathing and I felt his heart in its placid rhythm against mine.

            And then he moved my head to look at me again. We said nothing. Nothing was needed. We knew how this was to be. We both knew that this had always been meant. Our lips touched softly as we had always known they would, our breath mingled, and our tongues spoke silent words with each other as they fought and played together like long lost friends. His hands stroked my back, hard nails drawing lines in my flesh until they dropped lower, held me and pulled my hips closer to his. I did the same for him, felt the smoothness of his flesh and the strength of the muscles beneath as my palms travelled down to hold his perfect roundness. I stroked him as he did to me, as we kissed, as our groins met and rolled together.

            His hands came to the front and started stroking me there. Carefully, gently he felt me, drew me up in his soft hand, pulled me back, twisted me, toyed with me. And my hand explored in the same way. My fingertips plied on the solid smoothness of his flesh, felt the weights beneath, brushed through short, soft hair and covered all of him, squeezed, teased, offered whatever he wanted and brought his deep kisses further into me.

            We lay down together on the soft moss covered floor amid the ancient stones.

            His deep kisses were over me, hot and searching. Across my chest, pushing in against my nipples, around them, beneath my arms, down my sides, across my stomach, to the top of my legs, lower to my knees, he played on the tops of my feet with his mouth and with his hands. The pains from the journey were kissed away into numbness as his gentle fingers made circles on my flesh, as his mouth searched new places, started to travel back upwards all the time tasting me, feeding from me. Until he found my hardness with his soft lips and took me tenderly, slowly, deeply within him.

            We had done this before. In waking dreams he had come to me, lain me down, cared for me and loved me. But each time before had been imagination. Now there was only me and him and there was no mystery. His back arched high and powerful as he knelt before me, worshiping what he was doing, slowly, gently rising and falling on me as if in prayer. His hair was delicate in my hands, his cheeks soft and full as I felt them, as he rose and lowered himself around me and drank in all that he himself had once dreamed about.

            An age of time slipped by. The world beneath grew and changed but we stayed as one throughout. I lifted him from me, kissed him, tasted myself on his lips, lay him down and took his dark firmness into my mouth. Tasted him, understood the mystery of his life, and I knew him as I knelt before him and worshiped as he had done. I stroked the side of his slender length with my lips, circled my tongue around him, pushed back down on him and buried my face into the short, downy hair. Each time I rose and fell I would fall further, pulling his hips up to meet me, wanting more and more of him each time.

            And then we were apart, standing, looking at each other. I could still feel his heart beating against mine, but we were not touching. I could still feel him in my mouth, but we were not kissing. I could still taste all of his sleek, firmness but there was nothing in my mouth. We watched each other. His hands ran over his own chest, smooth and dark. They slipped to his groin, stroked his own legs, and held his own hardness. We stood still. Our eyes did the work. I looked into his and I could see his joy, I could feel what he felt. I knew what we were doing. We were laying together, each buried deep inside the other in some impossible way. He was mine. His slim, smooth hips were rising to draw me into him. He was feeding on me, sucking me into him, pulling at my back. And at the same time I was allowing him into me. Feeling him slide carefully in, not holding him too tight for fear of breaking him. And as I rode, he rode. Together in the same rhythm, in the same heartbeats, both of us giving what the other wanted and taking only what we needed.  

            Feeling myself slide slowly into him; feeling him under me. Feeling him draw gently out of me; feeling him with me. Having him sit over me; push down to take all of me. Having him hold me; pulling me back towards him. Holding him as I drive myself in; owning him as I take him. Holding him as he grows harder and stronger inside of me; being his as I let him have his dreams. And then both of us swelling, tightening, driving deeper into each other, ramming, abandoned, clutching, grasping, desperate, being inside him, being him.

            And then a slow rising up from inside and a starburst jet of explosion rocks us both, fills him, fills me, combines us, mixes us, melts us as one. And keeps bursting within ourselves until we have nothing more to give each other, until there is nothing left to learn, until the myths have all been dispelled. Until there is nothing left to disbelieve as all is true and he is real.

            Just the two of us. He lying across my chest, his ear pressed to my heart listening for the rhythm of my life and steadying it, teaching it. My arm across his back, strong and protecting, guiding him to where he has brought me. Where he has brought us. To the end of the lonely road.

            And there to lie forever with the ancient rocks, the magic and the mystery of the past. To stay together like this until we too become part of history, part of the landscape. Another two stones lying undisturbed in myth until another lonely traveller passes by and moves us while searching for their own destiny.

© www.bookpuppy.co.uk">http://www.bookpuppy.co.uk/">www.bookpuppy.co.uk

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Greek Lads (part 2)

lukepreston on Gay Stories

I retraced my steps in my mind. I’d been on the island only a few days. I’d hungered for some young, Greek flesh and now one of the café lads had followed me home, stripped down to his white briefs and sucked me dry. And now I was following him to my bed. He wanted me to show him the pleasures of sex between two men and I could do anything I wanted with him.

As he entered the room the last

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remaining light of the day filtered in through the long windows and lit his back with shadowy patterns. His shoulders were as strong from behind as his chest had been from the front, and similarly his torso shaped in to his slim hips. The tightness of his underwear showed the perfect roundness of his innocent arse, enveloping it and inviting me to experience it. I would, in time. He was mine for as long as I wanted and I wanted time to recover so that I could once again empty myself deep inside him. The next time though I would have him buck and moan beneath me as I held him and took him from behind. But in time. I had other pleasures for him first.

He stopped by the end of the bed and turned back to look at me. His large, brown eyes caught a ray of sunlight and glinted. He was smiling again, that cheeky, ladish grin told me he was relieved that I was there with him and that his request had been granted. He made to remove his shorts, pushing a thumb in either side, but I stopped him. I took hold of both his arms and held them away. And then I pulled him towards me so that our faces were almost touching. I looked into his deep, longing eyes and smiled. Lost for words I simply kissed him lightly on the mouth where I could taste the musky, lingering smell of my own cum mixed with his youthful scent.

I lay him down on his back and sat beside him on the edge of the bed. Twisting myself around I could lean over him and bear down to kiss his forehead. He tried to grab me and pull me onto him, but again I stopped him. I wanted him to know who was in charge and so placed his arms on the pillow above his head. Like this he was prone, open and defenceless.   And like this I could see his whole, smooth skinned body stretched out below me, mine for the taking. I kissed his forehead again and could smell his shampoo. His short, dark hair was gelled and groomed. He may have been a labourer by day but after work he took trouble to preen himself. His hair was washed, his face, save for the trace of sweat from his earlier exertions, was clean, closely shaved, no stubble. I ran my fingers across his soft cheek, cupping it in one large hand and tracing the shape of his nose with my thumb. As it crossed his lips I pushed a little harder and it slid in. Immediately his hot mouth was working on it, desperate to be sucking again. I smiled. He was eager and he was willing. But he would have to wait.

With his arms resting behind his head the downy soft hair beneath them was exposed to me and my mouth travelled there to explore and lick. He squirmed slightly, not sure if he liked this mild torture, and I knew that no one had ever done this for him before. My tongue moved across his chest, my nose nuzzling the small V of hair between his firm pecs before my mouth came to linger above a small, hard nipple.   I shifted my own arms so that I was gripping his, pinning him gently down to the mattress. And then my tongue flicked across the top of the nipple. Just one slight touch and I heard him gasp, felt him struggle slightly in my grip. But I was not going to let him go. If this was exciting him, just wait until I got lower down. I flicked the nipple again and again he made a sound. This time it was a murmur of pleasure and encouragement. I drew the sensitive, erect mound into my mouth and worked my tongue around it some more; pushing down with my face so that he could feel my weight on him. His hips rose and his chest tried to fight me off, pushing back at me. But I had him held. I gave him a couple of tiny, painless bites and his moaning crescendoed. And then I released my pressure and travelled back to the other side.

He received the same treatment there and returned the same sounds of enjoyment, but now he was not fighting back, he was offering up words in Greek, softly spoken and almost begging. I glanced up from where I was teasing him with my mouth and his eyes were wide in wonder. I paused, he smiled. I caught him off guard and clamped his nipple between my teeth, just hard enough to see him push his head back into the bed, close his eyes and let out a deep groan.

And then I was on the move again, trailing down the flat belly, wetting the whisper thin line of hair that led like a map to the top of his shorts. As I did this I carefully climbed across his legs, coming to kneel between them so that I had him laid out before me. I looked at him again but his eyes were closed. His arms, though, were still obediently lying beyond his head in submissive compliance. I looked back at the slim body, placed my large hands on each hip bone and pushed my tongue into his belly button. He squirmed and raised his hips. I pushed them back down with my grip and started to kiss lower. I could smell the fabric of his shorts, the washing powder even, and I could taste the salt on his skin. Being careful not to touch the straining hardness that was bound within, I gave him firm kisses on his shorts. Starting out at his hips and working my way into his inner thigh. Pushing his legs a little further apart I was able to burrow my face in deeper, pushing up the leg of his shorts and revealing a slight growth of dark hair, just between his balls and the top of his legs where the pelvic bone shows through. Without warning I clamped my mouth around his flesh in there and worked it hard with my tongue. He thrashed beneath me, making short grunting sounds as his body tried to twist free. But it was not to be. Pinning him harder I flashed to his other side, giving the same treatment to the never before explored area. Again he writhed and gasped and I smiled to myself knowing that I was showing him something new, something exciting, something he could teach to the other lads he hung out with.

I gave him a pause; worked my way down his strong, muscled legs until I came to his long, brown feet. Now I was kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed and I drew his legs in together. From there I could look up the length of his body, but his face was obscured now by the straining bulge in the front of his skin tight shorts. All he wanted was for me to strip them from him and give his cock the same attention as he had given mine. But he was going to have to wait for that, I had another treat in store for him before I allowed either of us the satisfaction of working on his cock.

I took his ankles in my hands and started to turn him, he knew what I wanted and rolled onto his stomach without resistance. From my crouched position I could see along his legs, well toned and with only a soft covering of dark hairs, to the small mound of his arse. It was tempting me closer. I started to work my way back up, kissing and nibbling from the soles of his feet, always upwards, always slowly, until I reached the back of his knees. As soon as I started working my tongue in there the sounds he made amplified. His legs stiffened as he felt this new sensation shoot through him and I could see his hips lift from the bed as the pleasure/pain flashed from his legs to his groin and back again. I teased him some more, drinking in the scent of his innocence and revelling in the joy these new sensations were giving him.

And then it was time to move closer to my goal; to the silky smooth skin that I would find beneath those secret-keeping shorts. As I moved up between his legs they parted willingly, allowing me access to where he now knew I was going. My hands stroked the way ahead, flattening the downy hairs on the back of his legs, stroking his flesh and massaging my route to his arse. When I reached it I was able to take one cheek in each of my wide palms and claw at his muscles as he had done at mine, pulling the material of his shorts up so that they would be even tighter at the front. And then I took both sides of the shorts in one hand and twisted so the material came together in one line; pulled upwards and it slid in between his arse cheeks, revealing the dark, smooth flesh to me on either side. And then I pulled just a little harder so that he could feel the tension against his hole.

His groans had now turned to near desperate sobs, and he had buried his face into the sheets to muffle the sounds he was unable to control. With his shorts wedged up against him like this I started to kiss his cheeks. One side then the other, wetting them with my saliva, sucking them in between my lips and taking small bites, just to let him know I had him at my command. His hips ground into the bed making circular movements, rubbing his swollen cock against the sheets below. His arse rose to meet me as I chewed it, licked it, savoured it.

And just when he thought I could show him no more ecstasy I pulled the back of his shorts down revealing to me his darkly puckered hole. It was begging to be serviced, his hips pushing it up towards me, opening him out. And I had led him on far enough. Pulling the shorts as far from my target as I could I leant down towards him and rested my stubbled chin on the top of his hairless arse crack. Then slowly, applying pressure, drew my face downwards, scratching at his sensitive, untouched flesh and making him moan louder. I felt my chin scrape over his hole and he gasped a high pitched sound of surprise. And then my tongue was on it. Flicking at it, poking gently as I drew in the sweet scent of his sweat. It flicked harder, started to penetrate, to part the virgin ring little by little until it was exploring just inside. My mouth surrounded his hole, my nose buried deep into his cheeks and I pulled his arse open a little wider.

He was pushing back into me with more force now. His words were muffled but they urged me on. His hips rose with more desperation and I could feel his head twist from side to side. I pulled him up to his knees and he took the position gratefully, saying ‘yes,’ through his wild groaning. My hands were around his hips, so slender that my fingers almost touched in the front. I gave him more of my stubble, grating it across his slippery anus as I slurped up and down his crack. And then I let my hands slip to the front of his shorts where his young cock was still trapped and straining. As I dug my tongue deeper into him I let my fingers gently play down his solid shaft, barely tickling it through the cotton. I cupped his small balls in one hand and rolled them around, my fingertips playing on them, stroking them. He was working himself up to come. I could feel his body start to spasm, I could hear louder whimpers of desperation. I was going to bring him off without touching the flesh of his 19 year old cock. I just ran my fingernails up and down his shaft, scratched at its engorged head through the shorts and pinched it with my nails as I worked on his ball sack and chewed out his arse.

He was thrusting back into my face with more force now, circling his arse around and pushing back wanting me in deeper. But he would get that later. Later I’d be doing this with my thick cock buried in him. We had all night. He could wait. For now I just wanted to feel him struggle with delight, hear him gasp and whine like a caged puppy as I brought him close to the edge just by licking his hole and torturing his shaft.

In desperation he tried to reach in under himself and grab for his cock, but I was stronger and pushed his hands away. He tried to fight back. I just parted his cheeks further and ground my tongue into his soft, warm insides. He tried to twist around but I kept him pinned there with one squeeze of his small, vulnerable nuts. He gave in, his head slammed down onto the bed and he let out a slow, long moan.

This was it. With a quick movement I tugged the front of his shorts, finally releasing his swollen cock and heard it slap up against his stomach. I gripped his hips with my hands and started ramming him back into my face, fucking his arse with my tongue, not giving him a chance to do anything but succumb to orgasm. I didn’t touch his cock again, I didn’t need to, I just kept pulling him back, pushing him away, pulling him back, going in deeper, listening to him moan, getting louder, getting nearer, digging my stubble into the red raw flesh of his crack, gripping him tighter, feeling him tremble in my hands, as my relentless rhythm sent him over the edge. He let out a deep, angry grunt, then another and his sphincter contracted. He jolted back into me with a sudden spasm and his body went rigid. I could hear the splat of cum hitting his chest, hitting my bed and I could hear him grunt again and again as my rimming continued until every drop was out of him and he started to slow down.

I kept working on him there while his gasps subsided into deep breathing. Kissing his round cheeks and stroking gently at the red marks that my face had left. I worked my thumb around his hole, slipping it over and then in with the lubrication of my spit. He moaned contentedly as my thumb went in and I knew then that there would be more to come. My cock was solid again and I was ready to unload my second wad of the night into his tasty Greek arse. But he was not ready. Not yet, and besides, I’d not yet tasted, nor even seen, his youthful lad cock in the flesh.

I let him lie flat on his stomach, knelt up and wiped my mouth. And then I lay down over him so that my cock rested hard and ready along his hairless crack. I wrapped my arms around him from behind and he searched for my hands under himself. We lay, our sweat mingling in the warmth of the evening, and he pulled me tighter down onto him.

‘I want you to fuck me,’ he whispered. ‘But se ligo.’

‘Se ligo?’ I replied?

‘In a while,’ he said and there was a dreamy, far away contentment in his voice.

‘We have all night.’

He turned his face to mine and kissed me, long, hard almost desperate. ‘And let’s take all night,’ he replied and pushed his compact little arse back into the hardness of my cock.

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The Lad from the Sea

lukepreston on Gay Stories

THE">http://www.bookpuppy.co.uk/">THE BOY FROM THE SEA

By">http://www.bookpuppy.co.uk/">By Jason Fuller

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Maybe it was because I was a complete stranger that he felt able to tell me his secret. At least I thought so at the time. I figured out later that he had started talking to me because I had a broad, hairy chest, a beard and was older than him. It was all part of his secret.

He told me he was eighteen. Actually he said he was eighteen and four months so I didn’t argue. Then he said he had a secret and was bursting to tell someone. I told him that he was welcome to tell me his secret and that my name was…

He stopped me dead. ‘No name,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t work if there’s a name.’

‘What doesn’t work?’ I asked.

‘Just listen, don’t interrupt, and when I’ve finished you decide what happens next.’

His puppy-dog eyes were begging me already, hopeful that I would agree to his strange request.

What would you do if a smooth, slim lad in lycra swim trunks came up to you and asked if he could tell you his secret?

‘Go ahead,’ I said and checked around me to make sure no other people on the beach were in ear shot. We were safe.

He told me his secret.

As he spoke he looked at my chest and one time I caught him licking his lips. Occasionally he smiled, paused and then indicated that he had more to say. I listened. And as I did so my own eyes wandered from his dark blonde head, his hair almost cropped on the sides but longer and bleached by the sun on top, down over his youthful face, tinted red by the warm day, and towards his flat, hairless chest. Smooth is always a turn on for me. Opposites attract. Hairy, older, top attracts smoother, younger, bottom.

I started wondering about his bottom, I couldn’t see it, hadn’t seen it when he walked over to me. He’d arrived so out of the blue that I’d not even had time to check out the front of his trunks. I did that while he told me what he wanted. They were tight, white and revealing. They were also wet and clinging to him, I could make out the outline of a small cock and a pair of youthful balls. He must have come from the sea.

By the time he finished talking to me I was having trouble keeping my seven inches hidden in my own swim shorts. I wanted him to notice the hard-on that had started but there were still other people on the beach and I didn’t want us to attract attention. If he was to get his way then what happened next had to be secret. That was his whole point. He was looking at my groin and waiting for me to react.

But I could say nothing. He had made that quite clear. His closing statement had been: ‘that is my secret. Say nothing. If you turn away then I will move on and I’m sorry I troubled you, sir. But if you like what you heard then you will know what to do.’

I had liked what I’d heard and I knew what I had to do. He had told me in detail what his secret was and all I had to do now was act it out for him.

You see his secret was actually his fantasy. And his fantasy was what happened next:

Without saying a word I slipped a couple of things into the pocket of my shorts, covered my pile of clothes with my towel where they would be safe for a while and stood up. I didn’t look at his face, I was not allowed to, but I could almost hear a sigh of relief from him as he watched me. By the time I was ready he was already making his way down to the water’s edge. I followed, my stare fixed on the tight buns and slim hips. My mind concentrated on what I was expected to do. I had no problem with it at all. I had to do was remember what he had asked and make sure I made his dream come true.

I followed him into the sea and started swimming. The bay we had been in was only small and it was not long before we were around the headland and out of site of the other sun seekers. I’m a strong swimmer. I’ve always swum and used a gym, so the five minute journey was nothing for me. He was lean and fit too and by the time we reached the secluded place, neither of us seemed affected by the exercise. If anything it helped prime me for my task.

I trod water a little way off while I watched him wade up onto the shore. An even smaller bay, no people, just a few feet of sand and a cave, just as he said there would be. He walked into the cave and was lost from sight. I waited the right length of time, my heart rate steadying until it was time for me to follow.

I walked into the cool dimness of the cave and let my eyes adjust. The sand was cold under my bare feet and the sea water dripped from me. Everything was silent, not as cold as I’d thought it would be. I was entering a magic grotto where we would both find our wish come true.

And there it was, lying on its back over a smooth round boulder. A picture of innocence waiting to be explored. Mine for the taking. The white trunks discarded, the naked body waiting to be used.

The boy was pretending to be asleep, one arm draped over his face, the other above his head so the body stretched out showing the rib cage, pulling the puppy fat of his stomach taught. I stood before him watching, looking at the slightly parted lips, the stubble less chin, the perfect, hairless chest. Further down to the slim hips, smooth strong legs, also slightly parted. His cock lay flaccid to one side, the foreskin drawn back a little as it waited there, semi erect in anticipation. Two perfectly round balls rested beneath, and under them a barely perceptible covering of hair was matted together with salt water.

I stood close, heard his breathing, knew he was pretending and breathed in the scent of the willing youth; the wanting youth. Yes, I would give him his fantasy.

I stood between his legs and gently parted them further with my own. I placed a hand either side of the submissive body and lent forward, my lips only millimetres away from his. I could smell him more then, a hint of salt and sweat. I arched my back so that nothing touched his body, I did not want to disturb his semi-sleeping cock just yet, and I put my lips to the warm, springy flesh of his neck. I licked the salt from his skin as my mouth explored lower, tiny kisses across his neck, open to me, willing to be bitten like a vampire’s seduced victim. Lower I kissed, the hard skin of his chest, the strong, brown nipples erect yet pliable under my warm tongue. I inched down with my mouth and buried my nose into his belly button as my teeth nibbled gently below it. I crouched to better reach his thigh and the stubble of my chin scraped carefully across his legs as my face found its way further into the warmth between his legs. Still nothing touched his cock. I could sense it there, lengthening slightly as I moved below his ball sack and kissed his inner thigh. I moved to his other leg and drew his flesh in with my lips, my moustache tickling his skin as I worked my way under his balls until I could feel them light and soft against my forehead.

And then I pushed my face in further, his legs either side of my head, his balls sliding down the bridge of my nose until my tongue connected with the downy, soft, almost invisible hair beneath his balls. I heard a slight moan as I connected with him there and another louder one as I gently took one delicate ball into my warm mouth. I tasted the salt of the sea and the boy sweat as I manipulated the sensitive orb with my tongue, then the other, always treating both with equal amounts of pleasure. I let them go and licked them both, my strong tongue playing with them, bouncing them as I worked back up and felt for his youthful cock.

I clamped my lips around the base, holding it as I flicked the shaft within my mouth, working my way up the now stiff cock a little. He was not huge, but he was hard, and hairless and hot. My moth reached the tip and I could smell the salty expectancy of precum leaking from his tip. The foreskin pulled right back against the straining cock, revealing a shiny pink head. Very slowly, to tantalise and arouse him more I closed my mouth over the swollen head and played with it. I licked it, let him feel my teeth, let him know how vulnerable he was.

And then gently I slipped it in, against the top of my mouth, to the top of my throat and then finally down until my nose was nestled into the slight, featherweight public hair. And there I sucked in, swallowing the youthful meat as far as it would go before releasing my throat muscles and drawing up, letting his young tool slip back until my lips caught around its head and my tongue played more with the underside. And then back again, more quickly and deeper, the cock grew longer with the added force and his balls tightened up against the hair on my chin. Then I slowly released him again until just the most sensitive tip was at the mercy of my teeth, where I waited before sucking him down again.

His breathing was deeper, slower, in rhythm with each dive of his shaft into my throat until I feared he would lose himself and end his fantasy too soon. I knew it was time to move on.

For the first time my large hands touched the delicate skin of his thighs as I stood back, turned him over and parted his legs a little further. His back was pitted with tiny indents from the rock, the perfectly smooth mounds of his boy butt pink in places where the rough rock had pressed. He rolled onto his front with only the slightest prompting from me. He knew what he wanted. And so did I, he had told me. I stood and watched him beneath me as I stripped my shorts. My tool was gorged now, swollen with anticipation and ready for some hard, deep work. It stuck out from my mound of bushy hair, drawing my low hanging balls up to it as far as they would go, but leaving them hanging free in the cool air of our secret cave. I rolled the rubber on in readiness as I dropped to my knees.

Roughly, and without warning, I changed my approach. I was no longer the gentle, stroking partner I had been before. Now I was the stronger, older man in charge of the suppliant youth beneath me. He was prone, he was winding me up with the sight of his young, virgin ass and he was there to be had. Had hard and deep until he cried out for me to stop. Even then I wouldn’t, even when he’d had enough and could take no more man meat pounding into his boy ass he would get more. But first my tongue had more work to do.

I dived straight in. Grabbing both soft mounds of his ass and drawing them apart with my big hands. The cool air hit his virgin pink ring and it contracted against the sensation. It did not have long to recover before my tongue was against it, pushing in, forcing it open, wetting it, lubing it up in readiness for the rigid tool that was now aching to get in there. I felt his body move as if in protest, I knew it wasn’t, but I’d almost forgotten the game now. I was running this. I sniffed in the scent of his cool, soft arse cheeks as I tongued his hole. I slid my chin up between his legs, letting the roughness of my beard scrape along his flesh, over his hole and up through the soft buns. My tongue attacked him again, followed by my chin, and again until all around his anus was red and raw from my feasting and my stubble. All the time he moaned and squirmed beneath me, pretending to try and get away. But I had him pinned down against the rock with my hands. I was stronger than him, bigger than him and I was going to get exactly what I wanted.

My cock could wait no longer. I stood up and pulled the boy from the rock, backed up against the wall of the cave and pulled him back onto me. My shaft slipped up over the crack of his ass and I heard him gasp as he felt its length reach the small of his back. My balls hung down beneath his butt and he must have realised what he was going to get. Maybe he thought for a second that he’d bitten off more than he could chew but by then it was too late. My strong right arm pushed at the back of his neck and bent him forward. Without any more vanilla messing I pulled back my hips and centred the head of my shaft against his tightening, moist pink ring. I put one arm around his waist, the other around his small chest, and pulled him back upright.

Before he knew what had happened, my cock had punched into his tight hole and my hairy balls were rubbing up against his own. He didn’t scream, but the sound he made suggested that he didn’t expect this. It was the sound he’d told me he’d make and it only made me grasp him tighter. He was impaled on me, forced back against me and me against the rock as I felt his weight push back, wanting me in deeper.

I thrust forward, slapping my thighs against his little ass cheeks and shoved him forward. My cock slipped back until I felt his ring grasp at my head, not wanting to let me out. Then back in again with a harder thrust, knocking another moan from him. The rhythm grew. I grabbed his arms and wrapped them across his chest with my own, my face close to the side of his, my beard scratching at his smooth cheeks. I could smell his breath, taste his sweat. I held both his arms with one of my hands and let the other slide down to grab his cock. It fitted in my palm and I fisted it, squeezed it and held it as I pounded back into his hot young tunnel. Our balls swung against each other. Mine low and heavy, his small and hardening and before long I felt him getting close.

I ground my hips, shoved in, held him, squeezed his cock, rubbed my balls against him, covered his back with the hair of my stomach and then pulled back out again. I gave him no time to recover as I shoved in again this time even harder. The force lifted his feet from the sandy floor a second as his whole body was impaled on my thick, solid shaft. His head strained around to try and kiss me but he was helpless, lost in his fantasy, his gasps erratic as he tried to give sounds of pleasure, confused by moans of helplessness.

The sound of our flesh slapping, thigh on ass cheek, filled the cave and drowned out the sound of the sea. I wrapped him tighter in my arms, gripped his cock with the vice of my fist and felt him start to shudder. I knew he was cuming. I entwined my legs around his. He was totally caught, totally helpless. He could do nothing but let my meat pound his insides, bringing him to orgasm. I let go his cock and felt him try and reach it with his hand, but I had them held fast. He was going to come without anything touching his cock. I was going to make this boy come just by fucking his precocious little lad-butt and he was going to get what he wanted.

I was ready, my balls had tightened, filled. My cock had thickened as it slid out to the tip and then pounded back into the hot depths of the groaning, helpless lad before me. His head thrashed and then shot ridged back against my chest as I thumped swollen and harder into him. His moaning turned to helpless whimpering as if he didn’t want this to happen. But by then it was too late. He was cuming.

His whole body trembled in my grip and my hold on him tightened, forcing his boy juice out of him with the last, deepest thrust of my tool. I heard the splatter of his jism against the rock as my balls erupted and my cock spewed out and into him. I jerked with each eruption and heard his ecstasy as he felt the force of my cumming fill the rubber that filled his arse.

I let go his arms and grabbed his hips. I slammed him back into me as he shot his last spit of cum in front of himself. He grabbed for his cock, desperate to drain more as I spurted one more thrust inside him.

And I held him there as he recovered, still with my gorged shaft buried deep within him, still with our empty balls sliding together with sweat and salt water. My wide hairy chest covered his back protectively and my muscled arms wrapped the young body safely and stroked the hairless chest as his heart slowed down and his breath was recovered.

I let my hand stray to his already softening cock, and I let the warm piece of flesh rest in my palm. The last dribble of boy juice leaked onto my fingers and I lifted them to his mouth. He took my fingers in gently and sucked on them before resting his head back on my shoulder and letting out one last, fulfilled sigh.

According to his wishes, nothing was said. I let him break away from me, my cock slipping out of the small ass and hanging, the rubber filled so much it was nearly pulled off with the weight. He put on his shorts and walked, a little shakily I thought, from the cave and back into the sea.

By the time I made it back to my place on the beach there was no sign of him. But something told me that I’d come across him again before long. I was in this place for two more weeks. It was a small island and there weren’t many places the lad could hide. And next time… next time we’d play out my fantasy.  

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Football Voyeur

lukepreston on Gay Stories

Pedro was staying with a girlfriend in her rented flat in Paris. He was passing through really, on his way to London for a charity football match in two day’s time. He’d left his home in Milan, where he played for the city team, the day before and had arranged to take a couple of days out to rest up before the game in England. He’d not seen Anna for a year or so and they’d agreed that it was high time they caught up on news. They’d been teenage lovers once, many years ago back in Milan, and now they were able to enjoy the intimacy of friendship without the threat of sexual innuendo hangin

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g over them. Staying at her place in Paris gave Pedro the chance to get away from the spotlight, the Paparazzi and the training schedules. It was only a charity match and he could just turn up and play so there was no need to spend several days in a hotel, pre-match training and psyching himself up. He was on holiday and that was that.

But Anna had been called into work that evening leaving Pedro alone in the flat, kicking his heels and wondering what he should do. He didn’t like sitting still, didn’t enjoy time away from physical activity and he was becoming restless. He knew he should be relaxing, that’s what holidays were about, but doing nothing didn’t sit well with him. He’d wandered about the place, checking through the books on the shelves, all in French, thumbed through the DVDs, found nothing he wanted to watch, and had been searching around the cable channels trying to find something on TV to take his mind off his inactivity. His restlessness was not helped by the weather. It was July, the city was heating up in a heat-wave and the flat had no air conditioning. Dusk had settled in outside and, through the tall French windows he could see the orange glow of the city lighting the night sky beyond the block of flats opposite. There wasn’t even a view to admire. Anna’s flat was hemmed in by another block directly opposite and separated by a small courtyard.

He wandered out onto the balcony and the closeness of the air struck him. He could smell the city fumes, warmed and intensified by the heat of the dying day. The sounds of car horns and police sirens echoed around the courtyard below and drifted past him into the ether. It was as dull out there as it was inside. Nothing to do but wait for Anna to come home so they could sit up late and chat again. He contemplated going out but couldn’t be bothered to get dressed. He’d showered and put on a pair of light shorts with nothing underneath and had thrown on one of his playing tops. He stood on the balcony barefoot and leaned on the chest high railing, simply staring across at the windows opposite. Most of them were shuttered or curtained, only one light was on. About two floors below he could see a guy sitting at a computer. At least he could see the torso, the head was hidden from view by the top of the patio doors and the angle from which Pedro looked down. Just some nerd surfing his evening away. Dull.

This wasn’t doing him any good, he found himself getting wound up. He wanted to do something but nothing appealed. He padded back inside and wandered into Anna’s room to stand in front of the full length mirror and talk to himself.

‘What’s this all about?’ he asked. ‘What’s wrong with you today?’

His reflection didn’t answer. It just stared back at him with its green eyes. The head of dark hair shook itself at him. ‘You know what you need?’ it asked. ‘What?’ he replied, flatly.

In the mirror he saw the eyes drift down and focus on the front of his shorts and felt the soft material hang baggy around his thick thighs. He swung his hips from side to side and watched the outline of his cock as it settled back into place. He did it again and it grew a little bigger. Then he looked back at his reflection and it was smiling at him. A wry, lopsided grin showed off the famous gap where his tooth was missing. That smile told him they had reached an agreement.

‘Right, but who’s gunna do that for me right now?’ he growled back. ‘You do it,’ his reflection said. ‘Not the same,’ he answered. ‘Anna?’ ‘Huh, doubt it.’

Giving up on that idea he stomped back to the balcony to get some more, smog choked air and lent against the railing as before. A bead of sweat ran into his eye and he rubbed it away. Once he could see clearly again he looked down at the surfing nerd. He couldn’t make out what he was looking at down there on his PC but he was now leaning forward, studying screen closely.

‘Probably checking out my score record from the European Championships,’ Pedro thought to himself smugly and gave a short laugh. But then an action caught his eye. The guy below had shoved a hand into the front of his track suit bottoms and Pedro thought he saw him grab and pull. ‘Interesting,’ he thought, ‘the dirty git’s looking at porn.’

He inched along the balcony to his right a few paces and checked around. No one else was outside or in the courtyard as far as he could tell. The light from the living room behind him was casting his shadow onto the building opposite and there were no other shadows, so no one else was above or below him. Maybe that’s why the nerd had his curtains open, no fear of being seen. Or so he thought. Pedro squinted at the screen, it was about twenty feet below and he could just make out flesh coloured tones on the monitor. He couldn’t see what sex they were or what the pictures were of but they were definitely naked. He could see small patches of dark hair between legs but that was about it. Yup, the nerd was surfing for porn and playing with himself.

Pedro crouched a little, holding onto the railing for balance and peering through the ironwork. The nerd had removed his hand and Pedro could see a lump in the track suit. The nerd clicked onto a new page, the picture on the screen went white and then started to fill from top to bottom with one, enlarged picture. Two people; one underneath, one riding on top. Still, though, it was impossible to see what sex they were.

‘Well, this is more interesting than the TV,’ Pedro muttered to himself and trained his eyes on the PC. The picture changed again but still he couldn’t quite make out what it was of. The nerd’s hand went back into his trousers and pulled away more slowly than before. Pedro felt his own cock stirring again. The breeze was creeping up from below and he could feel the air enter the legs of his shorts and investigate around his balls while his cock brushed gently against the silkiness of the material. That felt good. It also felt good watching someone else getting off on porn. No harm in that. Just a guy doing what Pedro wanted to be doing. He could look at porn and pull himself off, it would be something to do. But Anna didn’t have a PC at the flat and so he’d have to watch from there.

Then and idea struck him and he slipped back inside. For some reason his heart had started to beat faster and he felt nervous. Maybe it was because he knew what he was going to do, maybe because what he was going to do was like cheating, whatever the reason it felt exciting and good. He found his camera from his suitcase and came back outside to crouch in the same position. A quick check. No one around, only him and the nerd with the hard on. He put the camera to his eye, squinted and zoomed in.

The nerd’s hand was still working away in his trousers alright, slowly up and down, but now it had been joined by the other hand and this one was attending to the guy’s balls by the looks of things. Pedro settled himself against the railings, squatting down so that his arse was pulled wide. His knees were spread and he was almost sitting on the balcony floor. He was comfortable like this. He trained hard; he was strong and flexible and could maintain this pose for ages.

The nerd removed his hands and started to push down his track suit. ‘Not sure I want to see this,’ Pedro said to himself but kept the camera trained in the same place. A bush of blonde pubic hair came into view and then disappeared as the guy lifted himself up. He sat again almost straight away, the trousers free from under him. Pedro’s nervousness increased when he saw the guy’s cock lying semi erect against his thigh. Not as big as Pedro’s but just as thick, it seemed to shine in the artificial light of the flat. The head was circumcised and pink. The nerd freed his balls from between his legs and the cock came to rest centrally on them. They were nearly hairless, round like flesh-coloured golf balls. And then the guy started to play with them again, cupping them underneath and squeezing them with his left hand while his right one drew circles with a finger around the inside of his thigh, stroking his own legs but not touching his cock. The guy reached forward, presumably to click the mouse again, and then sat back. The cock started to rise up, it didn’t get longer just firmer and he still didn’t touch it. He dug his fingers into his pubes and massaged them, scrunching the skin up and pulling it taught so that his cock rose perpendicular, then letting it all go so it flopped down onto the smooth balls that he was still working on. He did this a few times and then let everything go. He lent back, stretched out his legs and just left his cock standing there, 45 degrees from the blonde bush at its base.

‘Must be changing screens again,’ Pedro thought and moved the camera to see more clearly what the guy was looking at.

The screen was blank. He adjusted his zoom so that he could see more clearly. There was the menu bar across the top but nothing had come up yet.

But then it started. Slowly. Either this guy had a very slow connection, or else it was a very big file. Pedro looked back at the guy’s groin. He was still hard. This picture was obviously worth waiting for. Back at the screen: A line or two of blue. Sky. Then the tops of trees in the distance and then the top of someone’s head. The hair was glistening in sunlight, it was an outdoor photo. A forehead came into view. A man’s. That confirmed it, the nerd was queer. Now eyebrows were starting to show, dark and the face they were on was tanned. Ears, and then green eyes, both open and shining. Then the nose and mouth, no facial hair, clean shaven, and then the man’s smile. A cocky, wry smile that showed off a gap where a tooth had once been.

‘Fuck me!’ Pedro realised that he was looking at a picture of himself. Rather, that he was watching another guy wanking over a picture of himself. He didn’t know how to feel about this but then a pain in his groin told him what he should be feeling. His cock was rock hard and straining at the leg of his shorts. He’d suddenly got so turned on that the material had ridden up his leg and the end of his cock was open to the warm evening air.

But the picture had not finished downloading. He saw his naked shoulders, his wide chest with its dark covering of thick hair, his flat stomach and then… When was this photo taken? Then he saw dark hair between his legs, a flaccid cock hanging over tight, small balls. Not his. Someone had made this up. The face was his, even the chest was his but someone had morphed the cock and legs onto him. He let out a short laugh. So the nerd was getting off on his face and someone else’s dick.

He pulled the camera away from the screen and back to the chair. It was empty. The guy was not there. Pedro pulled the camera way from his eyes and stood up. Down below the guy was on his balcony. And looking up at him. He was no nerd. He was good looking, blonde, well built. He had a defined chest and strong, naked legs. His cock was now rock hard and he was pulling on it slowly. His eyes, from what Pedro could see, were fixed on the footballer’s shorts and he didn’t seem to care who might see.

Without thinking Pedro reached up a leg of his shorts and pulled it across so that his cock and balls hung open in the air. He let it stand there and brought the camera up to his eye again. He focused in on the guys face and saw him lick his lips. The he pointed the lens downwards and widened the shot to get in all of the other guy’s crotch. One hand was slowly stroking his shaft as the other cupped and squeezed below.

Pedro clicked the shutter. He had no idea why. The picture blacked and then came back. Holding the camera with one hand he started playing with his own ball sack, feeling its weight as he bounced it lightly for the benefit of his watcher. The other guy’s speed increased. Pedro took hold of his cock and drew his foreskin back slowly, tempting the guy with the sight of his purple head, all the time keeping his attention on the cut blonde cock that was on show for him. This was o.k. This was just a bit of lad’s fun. Pedro wasn’t gay, the nerd clearly was, but Pedro wasn’t touching him or sucking him off so there was no harm. He’d just let the guy get off on the sight of his idol holding his cock for a while and then go and jack off while thinking about Anna as a teenager.

Suddenly something happened. The nerd backed off, went back inside and the light went out. All Pedro could see was the PC monitor. It had flicked to a screensaver and bathed the room with a dull blue light.

‘Oh bollocks,’ Pedro said to himself. He had been turned on and needed release.

He was a bit surprised at his own thought but then he was horny and any kind of sex was o.k. with him when he needed it to be. As he’d said, it wasn’t as if they were touching so it wasn’t really sex with another guy was it? He went back into the living room and kicked off his shorts. He started pulling on his cock and tried to bring up a picture of Anna naked but all he could see were a pair of small, smooth balls and a thick cock being stroked slowly and deliberately for him.   He imagined the guy appearing at the door to the flat, walking in, dropping his tracksuit. Pedro imagined what it would be like if he knelt down and took the cock in his mouth. What would it taste like. What would those slippery looking orbs feel like in his hands. What would the guy do if he had his hero suck on them. What would it feel like if the blonde came down his throat and pumped his spunk into Pedro’s mouth. And then what would it be like to turn the guy around and bury his face into the smooth flesh of his arse. To lick his hole and taste another man like that. How would it feel when Pedro was sliding his cock into him, slippery and wet from the licking he had just given it. How would it feel to have the other guy gasp and pant underneath him as his idol, the football star, slid his heterosexual dick as deep into his cute arse as it would reach. To feel his dark hairy bollocks slap up against the light flesh and hold the guy’s slim hips as he thrust harder. How would it feel to fuck another man for the first time, to hold onto the limp, drained cock and rub his fingers over the circumcised head. To twist his golden pubes in his fist as he slammed the guy form behind. How good it would be to hear the guy beg him to shoot up his arse and how good it would be for Pedro to hear his own voice, begging the guy to tighten up. Pleading with him push back and milk Pedro’s streaming cock as he spurted deep inside.

And to feel the other guy lean back against him and twist to try and kiss him. And how would it feel to kiss him back, to lock their tongues and taste another man’s spit. To feel the warmth and the equal power as they bucked together while Pedro spent himself inside another male. How good it would feel. To lie with the blonde under him, their fingers twisting together, their breathing the same, as Pedro pulled his dying cock from the guy and turned him beneath so that they could kiss again.

How good it would be.

Pedro’s eyes snapped open at the sound of the door bell.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Darren's diary - fucked in suspenders

lukepreston on Gay Stories

Darren’s diary - Holiday

It’s the first day of term again. But it’s the first day of the last term. My last term here at St. Jude’s. Can’t believe it – after all these years I get to leave at last!

So what did I do in the holidays?

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Well, the best thing I did was get fucked by Steve. Steve’s this guy who lives in the house across the road from us. If I look through my bedroom window, which is at the front of the house, I can see right into his bedroom window which is also at the front. Obviously! Steve’s about the same age as me, 18, but goes to a different school, I don’t know which one. Although we’ve been neighbours for years we don’t really talk. Or at least we didn’t until the last holiday.

This is how it happened.

I was in my room one night, about eight o’clock. My parents were out at some Cricket club function and I had the house to myself. I decided to try something new and had a rummage through my mum’s cupboard. I don’t know why, I just fancied it. Well, I found some stuff that I thought would be good to play around with and I also found a video tape, nothing written on it, just blank so I thought, ‘that looks interesting’ and I took it back to my room.

I put the tape in and nearly died when I saw what it was – two guys and a woman having sex. I didn’t know my mum was into watching porn films. Anyway, I sat on the edge of the bed and watched it for a bit, getting turned on by the guys more than the woman, and then I decided I’d put on some of the things I’d found in the cupboard.

I’d not done this before and felt a bit silly at first. I mean I didn’t know how to put on a suspender belt and I sat there trying to work it out for ages. I stripped off my tracksuit and my briefs and stood there, with my back to the window, while I watched the film, trying to see how the woman in the porn video had put hers on. I decided to slip the panties on first and the soft, light material felt really sexy around my cock. Then I pulled the stockings on over my legs and the hairs got a bit caught up but I managed it. When I worked out how to attach the suspender belt it was great. The panties only had a thong at the back and that went right up my crack, tight. I could feel the air on my arse, the soft panties around my balls and semi-hard cock, and the suspenders around my middle – a bit tight too, but that was o.k.

Then I lay down on my front on the bed and watched more of the film. As I got harder – watching the two guys slowly being stripped by the girl – I started rubbing myself against the quilt on the bed, getting harder within the panties. My cock-head slipped over the top of the panties and felt hot as it rubbed against the quilt. I pushed my arse up in the air and spread my legs to feel more of the cool air around my arsehole. Then, in the film, the woman started to stick her tongue around the arsehole of one of the guys while the other man did the same to her and I wondered what that would feel like.

My hand reached around behind me and I started poking at my own arse with a finger. It felt a bit rough so I licked my finger and was able to push it in a little way. That was really weird, feeling something in there for the first time, but I got used to it and it made my cock even fatter, it almost hurt it was so swollen. And then, in the film, one of the guys got his cock – it was huge and he’d shaved his pubes off - and started poking at the woman’s arse with his nob. She had started sucking on the other guy’s cock now and I wished I was in the film too.

Beneath me my cock was leaking precum already and I could feel the quilt getting damp underneath me. I started rubbing myself harder, pushing myself back onto my finger and then down onto the bed and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I came.

And then I heard the doorbell ring.

I was suddenly in a panic. I thought my parents were back early but then realised that if they were they wouldn’t ring the bell. Without thinking I grabbed my dressing gown, put it on and ran down the stairs. I checked that my cock – soft already – was tucked back in and opened the door.

It took me a while to work out who was there, and then I recognised Steve from across the road.

            ‘Hi,’ I said lamely. I could feel the panties and suspenders under my dressing gown and felt a bit stupid.

            ‘Hi, Darren,’ he said in a deep, masculine voice. ‘Sorry to disturb you but…’

He looked down at my legs and then back up into my eyes. His own eyes were half shut like he was concentrating hard and I wondered what he was thinking. ‘Nice stockings,’ he said and I went bright red.

I’d forgotten that he’d be able to see my legs. I looked down and saw the hairs on my legs pressed flat against my skin under the stockings.

            ‘Ah,’ I said. I didn’t know what to say and just flustered for a moment.

Before I knew what was happening he’d looked over his shoulder, as if checking that the coast was clear, and had pushed past me into the hall. I shut the door and turned to face him, afraid of what he might do, but he just smiled at me. Then he took hold of my hand and pulled me towards the stairs.

Without saying anything he led me upstairs and back to my room. The film was still playing and now the woman was getting fucked in the arse by one guy while sucking hard on the other guy’s cock. Steve looked at the film and then went to the window. I just watched. He closed the curtains and turned back to smile at me.

           

‘Thought you might want some company,’ he said and I knew then that he had been watching me. The curtains had been open and the light from the TV must have been enough to let him see what I was doing.

He came over to me, undid my dressing gown and let it fall to the floor. I stood there stunned and embarrassed.

            ‘It’s o.k.’ he said quietly. ‘I won’t tell your folks as long as you do what I say.’

I nodded. My heart was pounding and my cock felt really small inside those panties.

            ‘Get back on the bed where you were,’ he said and I didn’t argue.

I knelt back on the bed, facing the TV and waited. I heard him take off his shirt, heard a crackle of static as it went over his head. Then I heard a belt rattle and there was more noise as his jeans were dumped on the floor. He told me not to turn around.

            ‘Just watch the film and imagine you are her,’ he said.

I did just that, watching as the guy with the shaved cock slammed into her arse before me. And then I realised what he was going to do and I felt a bit scared.

And then the bed moved behind me as he climbed on. I felt a pair of large hands on my buttocks, rough and masculine hands on my smooth flesh. They stroked me there before sliding around in front where one of them grabbed my balls through the feather light material of the panties. His fingertips tickled the shaft of my cock and it started to react. I felt something hard and heavy rest between the cheeks of my arse but I didn’t dare turn around to see what it was. I felt a moist, warm smudge on my skin and then I knew what it was.

Before I could think, let alone do anything, my arse suddenly felt hot and wet and a thrill ran through me like I’d never felt before. I could feel rough skin again my cheeks and the fingers of his other hand pulling at the thong of the panties. They pulled it away and his strong, wet tongue suddenly stuck itself into my arsehole. I groaned, it didn’t hurt, it probed me deeper and I relaxed. On the TV one guy was wanking himself, his balls slapping up and down under his fist as the woman waited to catch his spunk.

My cock started to stick out over the top of the panties again, I could feel the suspender belt cutting into my waist but I didn’t care. I only wanted Steve to get his tongue in deeper and I pushed myself back into his face. He pulled away.

            ‘Good lad, that’s what you want isn’t it?’ he panted.

            ‘Yeah,’ I said and bent my head down.

I could almost see back through my legs like that. I could see his hairy legs behind me, his chest as he knelt with his face in my arse. And when he forced his tongue right back into me I could see his cock, huge and dark, sticking up flat against his stomach. His balls hung down below it and they looked huge too. But I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of his mouth as he sucked and bit around my arse.

The guy on the video was coming. I heard him and opened my eyes to watch. The woman was on her back now, the other guy slowly sliding his cock into her as she opened her mouth to catch the stream of spunk that the other guy let go.

And then there was a new sensation on my arse. The sucking had stopped and that heavy, damp piece of meat was resting against me again. I knew what was going to happen. I tried to reach for my cock to start wanking but Steve pushed my hands away. He grabbed them and held them with both of his, behind my back. His cock rested against the wet hole of my arse and he gripped my wrists, holding me there.

On the screen the woman was on all fours, like me. One guy rested his cock against her hole, like Steve was doing to me, the other was watching. And then, as he slid into her, he slid into me. Pulling me back by the wrists so that our bodies came together hard. All the way in, burning me, splitting me, filling me with his fat shaft that slid right up inside me and filled me with a pleasure I’d never known before. He let go of my wrists and I fell forwards onto the bed. He pounded me, rising high above me, grabbing at the suspender belt and using it like a harness, like he was riding me like a horse. Fucking me as she on the TV got fucked by him. I was her; I was that woman getting a man’s cock inside me. The panties strained around my swollen balls, the tights rubbed against the flesh of my legs and my man slammed into me deeper and harder, using me, bringing me to climax by fucking me like I was his whore.

He was grunting like the guy on the video. I gasped and groaned like the woman, swung my head, tried to look back at him, my eyes screwed up with pleasure, with ecstasy. I begged him to do it harder just like she did. He pulled at my panties and my suspenders just like he did, we were the same couple. Fucking, like animals, sweating and grunting and begging each other to give more pleasure, to take it harder, to fill me with his cum, to fuck me like I was his bitch.

And, just when I knew I couldn’t take any more, he pulled out of me, backed off, flipped me over onto my back and lifted my legs over his shoulder. I could see his taught, hairy body for the first time, I could see the sweat on his face and I could see the long, solid shaft that had been pulping my insides. He gripped it in his fist his knuckles white, and pounded it towards me. Wanking himself over me like he was marking his territory. He rubbed his red raw cock head against the silky panties and I felt him hot and wet, soaking my balls with his juices as he grunted and panted and swore and came.

A sudden burst of red-hot spunk stabbed into my balls and burned through the soft material, soaking me, drowning my balls. More and more came as he aimed his spunk at my cock, then my stomach and then finally onto my chest, each jet spat through the air almost in slow motion as I watched it, eyes wide and longing for it to land in my mouth. My hand was on my own cock then, the panties pushed down, trapping my balls within, my stockings against his shoulders, my arse open and loose before him. I felt my cum shoot up onto my stomach and I yelled out like the whore I was, thanking him for giving me this pleasure. He watched me as I wanked myself dry. He watched me as I wiped up the cum in my fingers and licked them clean. And he watched me as I lay there watching him, my underwear soaked with our spunk and our sweat.

And I watched him as his cock softened and rested against my damp knickers, my own cock spent and resting, my arse glowing and wide open. I smiled at him weakly not knowing what he would do next.

He smiled back, winked and got off me. Within a minute he was dressed and gone. The video came to an end, dull music played followed by a hiss. I just lay there and stared at the ceiling.    

 ">http://www.bookpuppy.co.uk/"> www.bookpuppy.co.uk

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Straight Students Locker Room

lukepreston on Gay Stories

STRAIGHT STUDENTS LOCKER ROOM

Extract from ‘Neighbourhood Watch’

By Luke Preston

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Dean threw a towel over his shoulder and stomped into the communal showers. His team had lost the afternoon game and he was pissed off. He had missed a conversion and because of that his team had failed. No one was talking to him and he felt wretched. He thumped the silver button on the wall and the shower burst into action. It was cold to start with but he hardly felt it. Once it started to warm him though he began to feel better and the mud slid easily from him as he scrubbed himself down with soap. No one else was in the shower, he was in disgrace and they were in the communal bath. He longed to be in there with them, drinking beer and releasing the tensions of the game with body grabbing horseplay but it was not to be.

He knew why he had missed that important conversion. He had lined up the shot and taken several steps back, ready to run and kick, when he had caught sight of someone watching him from the sidelines. Someone who had never come over to the playing field before. He caught a glimpse of red hair and a boyish smile just as he had set off on his run up. By the time his foot connected with the ball a vision of Stuart’s naked body swept across his mind and the ball had gone sailing wide. He stared at where it had fallen, well away from the goalposts before turning to look at Stuart. The other guy was still smiling and held up his arms as if to say ‘what happened’. Dean just scowled as his team mates barged past him.

What to do about Stuart? They had not spoken since last night when Dean had tried to explain how he felt. The other guy had gone back to his room leaving Dean alone to think over what was going on. But then Stuart had turned up to watch him play and had looked happy so maybe he had changed his mind. Maybe he was prepared to forget about Paul and had decided that he did like Dean after all. Perhaps he was still around. This thought spurred Dean into finishing his shower quickly and, throwing the towel across his shoulders once more he went back into the changing room. He had just pulled a clean jock strap on when a voice behind him made him spin around.

‘You look good in that.’

It was Stuart. He was sitting on a bench only a few feet away, Dean had not noticed.

‘You like creeping up on people don’t you. Fuck!’ Dean said, grasping at his chest where his heart had just leapt.

‘Did I make you miss that shot?’ Stuart was still grinning his permanent smile and his eyes were flashing with enthusiasm as he scanned Dean’s wet body.

‘No, mate, it was my fault. You look more cheerful today.’

‘I am,’ Stuart replied and nodded in agreement with himself. ‘I’ve been thinking.’

‘Oh yeah? What about?’ Dean turned back to his locker and started to pull his clothes from it. Beyond the changing room he could hear the team break into a filthy chant as they splashed and swore in the bath. They could all go and get stuffed now. Dean had had enough of them. He only wanted to get changed and go home.

‘About you,’ Stuart’s words broke through the noise from the bath and Dean paused for a second.

‘And?’ he said, replacing his clothes on the locker shelf. He did not look back though, just rested his arm there and his head against it waiting for a rejection.

He heard Stuart stand up and then there was a warm hand on his shoulder. The sounds from the bath were getting louder and Dean knew their post match song was coming to an end. The hand ran down his back until it rested on the top of his backside and he felt the elastic of his jock strap pulled and let go with a quiet snap.

‘And,’ was all that Stuart said in reply.

He turned Dean around and the two boys looked into each other’s eyes. The rugby player felt his heart leap again. Just being next to Stuart was enough to send blood racing through his veins and into his groin. The exertions of the game had left his muscles feeling sore and his body glowed with tiredness mixed with the thrill of his friend’s touch. He was desperate to reach up and kiss the guy but there were too many hostile voices close by, it was too dangerous. Stuart’s hand cupped the back of his head and Dean allowed it to be pulled towards the smiling lips. He heard someone get out of the bath, there was a yelp as a towel was slapped on bare flesh and a curse.

‘Not here,’ he whispered to Stuart and nodded back towards the bathroom. ‘We’d be killed.’

Stuart looked to where he had indicated but said nothing. He simply winked and grabbed the bulge in dean’s jock strap. With a gentle tug he pulled the protesting Dean across the room towards the toilet area and into a cubicle. Once inside he locked the door and sat the other guy down on the seat.

Dean watched in silence as Stuart unzipped his trousers. The growing hardness in his jock strap pushed against the ribbed material and his breathing became fast. Stuart undid his trousers and pulled his tee shirt over his head. Topless his chest shone smooth and pale in the fluorescent light filtering in over the cubicle wall. He dropped the shirt to the floor and placed one of Dean’s hands on his chest. Very slowly Dean ran his hand across the smooth flesh, cupping the muscles of the guys chest and feeling the hard nipples between his fingers. Stuart moved his hand lower and Dean saw the top of his deep orange pubes come into view. He had seen Stuart naked before and had even felt his flesh but this time it was different. This time there was something more than just sex about the boy. This time it was more than just a quick jack off, he wanted to hold the guy and he wanted things to make sense and feel good. Outside the cubicle he could hear his team mates as they cascaded from the bath and back into the changing rooms. He feared being caught while at the same time he loved the thrill it gave, being only feet from them yet unseen.

Silently Stuart placed his hand over the front of his lycra shorts and, with his other hand, pushed his trousers so they dropped to the floor. Dean drew in a quiet gasp as he felt the long pole which was pressed downwards in the tight fitting shorts. It was thicker than his own and longer and he could clearly see the outline of its head. A small patch of moisture grew from under the material and he rubbed his thumb across the tip from where the juice was already starting to leak. He looked up to Stuart who stood over him like a marble statue and he saw the green eyes burning with passion. Slowly he slipped the lycra away, revealing a forest of hair and the base of the thick shaft. He pulled the shorts down a little further and the length continued. He traced a thick vein with his finger as he marvelled at the length of the boy’s tool. Eventually the rim of the circumcised head came into view, purple and huge and, when the material finally allowed it, the whole thing bounced from the shorts and swung before his face. His hands were placed around it and he gripped tightly. Then there was a hand on the back of his head and he was being pushed down onto it.

He heard someone enter the lock up next door as he opened his mouth wide and tasted the salty escape of pre-cum on his lips. The head forced his jaw apart as it crammed into his mouth and he knew he wouldn’t be able to take Stuarts full length. No matter how much he wanted to show the boy that he really did care for him he knew it would be impossible. He had tried the other night without success. He swallowed as he felt the inches invade his mouth and the head started to block the back of his throat. He longed to feel the thick mat of pubes against his face but knew he would never reach them. Stuart was pushing in but there was nowhere for the meat to go. He swallowed again and put his hands on the boy’s hips to steady himself. The head was beyond his tongue and he could feel it warm the back of his throat where it pressed, causing him to gag. He relaxed his throat and found he was able to take more in that way, but still it would not all fit. Stuart pushed further and Dean gasped for breath around it as he swallowed once more. And then there was the glorious feel of silky young hair against his eyelids and the wrinkled ball sack against his chin.

Through the large hands that were gripping his ears he could hear his team mates in the room beyond but he had no time for them now. He was attending to Stuart and he was all that mattered. The other guy was withdrawing his cock and Dean was able to release his throat to allow it to move. Then it was slowly pushed back in again and he felt his saliva dribble from the corner of his mouth as it was forced out by the weight of the long flesh. Stuart’s arse cheeks were tightening and relaxing with each movement as the thrusting picked up speed. Dean gripped them tighter for support and to show his pleasure as Stuart held his head still and fucked his mouth. The team were swearing and he could hear them flicking their towels and grabbing each other’s balls outside. But their voices became muffled, like he was hearing them from underwater as the pleasure he was giving became the only focus in his mind. The pumping was increasing in intensity and Dean tried to reach down to his own cock which now pressed painfully against the material of his jock strap. He flicked his cock free and started hammering it with one hand while pushing Stuart further into his mouth with the other.

He could feel the cock swell in his mouth filling every corner of it and his jaw began to ache with the strain of keeping his teeth clear of the solid shaft. His head became light from his quick breathing as his body was starved of oxygen and this only heightened the sensation in his balls. The sounds outside mixed with the sounds in his head. His breathing, the slurping of his mouth, the rubbing of his hand over his cock and the brush of Stuart’s hair against his face. The pace quickened further and Stuart’s arse tightened as the grip on Dean’s head stiffened. Then his head was held dead still, the pounding on his throat stopped. His nose was pressed in against the other boy’s pubes and he was unable to breathe. It was as if he was holding his breath forever as the swollen cock blocked his throat and the hairy flesh covered his nose. He pounded on his own meat which was itching for release and he clutched desperately at the boy standing over him.

Suddenly his throat was hot. A spurt of salty cum burned the inside of his gullet as it poured into him. He tried to swallow but the cock was in too deep as the boy’s huge cock emptied its love juice straight down his throat. His nose was banged with one final thrust and the tip of the cock seemed to enter his chest as it unloaded spurt after spurt of creamy spunk into him. Then his own cock was burning with pleasure as he felt his juice swell up within him before being forced from the tip of his aching cock and shot out.

He gripped Stuart’s dick with the muscles in his throat as he felt his cum stream through the air and heard it splat against the boy’s legs. He kept pulling, draining every last drop from the two of them until there was no more left to give. He squeezed the last drip from the end of his cock as Stuart gently released the pressure on his head. The other boy withdrew but Dean kept sucking on it, enjoying the taste and the feel of Stuart as he tried to break free. Outside the guys were still dressing and there was no way he could leave the cubicle until they had gone. He gripped Stuart’s arse with his strong hands and stopped him from removing his cock from his mouth. Stuart tried to pull back, his legs twitching against the feel of the tongue in his sensitive penis but Dean knew that he was stronger. He would release Stuart when he was ready. After a moment to catch his breath he started again and swallowed all of the long shaft in one go.

Stuart tried to pull himself away but the stocky guy had him gripped, both hands were around his waist and even though they were small they held him like they were made of iron. His cock felt sore and swollen now and the sucking on it was not the same as before. This time it was almost painful, he needed longer to recover but Dean was not having any of that. He was desperate to take him down his throat again and, no matter what Stuart did, it would not go limp. The lad’s tongue flicked around the sore head and his lips were soft against the shaft as Stuart felt himself pulled back into the greedy mouth. His balls were tight up against his body, aching and empty and he longed to yell out and release some of the pain he felt. But there were still people outside and he had to remain silent. Slowly however the pain started to subside and was replaced with a numb tingling as his balls started to fill again. This was not possible so soon. The tip of his cock head was glowing and he could feel the muscles in his groin straining as they started to spasm again. His cock jerked in Dean’s mouth as the tip was chewed and lightly bitten by his teeth. He was not in deep this time, only the raw and sensitive head was being attended to but that was enough. Stuart gripped his shaft in one hand as Dean nibbled on the head, poking his tongue into the slit and rubbing his lips around the swollen head. The spasms grew stronger and Stuart felt his balls start to spew for a second time. This time he came with an aching in his cock and an empty feeling in his ball sack as another wad of cum left his body and filled Dean’s throat. He felt as though his cock had burst with the effort and he knew he was now completely spent.

Dean licked the cum from the red raw tip of Stuart’s cock and finally released him. Silently he stood up and put his arms around the other lad. Aware that there were only a few people left outside and that the rest of the team were leaving quickly now he pulled Stuart down and kissed him, letting the lad share some of the juice he had just been given. They kissed deep and long until all that remained in the changing room outside was silence.

© http://www.bookpuppy.co.uk/"> color="#800080">http://www.bookpuppy.co.uk

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Greek Lads (part 2)

lukepreston on Gay Stories

From part 1: His white shorts were now straining against the solid shaft that they could hardly contain. The material was pulled away from him revealing a darkness that was shadow and hair, the front of them was moist, his cock upright and primed. He was begging me to do to him what he had done to me. He turned his head towards the open door of the bedroom and indicated that he wanted us to go in.

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I retraced my steps in my mind. I’d been on the island only a few days. I’d hungered for some young, Greek flesh and now one of the café lads had followed me home, stripped down to his white briefs and sucked me dry. And now I was following him to my bed. He wanted me to show him the pleasures of sex between two men and I could do anything I wanted with him.

As he entered the room the last remaining light of the day filtered in through the long windows and lit his back with shadowy patterns. His shoulders were as strong from behind as his chest had been from the front, and similarly his torso shaped in to his slim hips. The tightness of his underwear showed the perfect roundness of his innocent arse, enveloping it and inviting me to experience it. I would, in time. He was mine for as long as I wanted and I wanted time to recover so that I could once again empty myself deep inside him. The next time though I would have him buck and moan beneath me as I held him and took him from behind. But in time. I had other pleasures for him first.

He stopped by the end of the bed and turned back to look at me. His large, brown eyes caught a ray of sunlight and glinted. He was smiling again, that cheeky, ladish grin told me he was relieved that I was there with him and that his request had been granted. He made to remove his shorts, pushing a thumb in either side, but I stopped him. I took hold of both his arms and held them away. And then I pulled him towards me so that our faces were almost touching. I looked into his deep, longing eyes and smiled. Lost for words I simply kissed him lightly on the mouth where I could taste the musky, lingering smell of my own cum mixed with his youthful scent.

I lay him down on his back and sat beside him on the edge of the bed. Twisting myself around I could lean over him and bear down to kiss his forehead. He tried to grab me and pull me onto him, but again I stopped him. I wanted him to know who was in charge and so placed his arms on the pillow above his head. Like this he was prone, open and defenceless.   And like this I could see his whole, smooth skinned body stretched out below me, mine for the taking. I kissed his forehead again and could smell his shampoo. His short, dark hair was gelled and groomed. He may have been a labourer by day but after work he took trouble to preen himself. His hair was washed, his face, save for the trace of sweat from his earlier exertions, was clean, closely shaved, no stubble. I ran my fingers across his soft cheek, cupping it in one large hand and tracing the shape of his nose with my thumb. As it crossed his lips I pushed a little harder and it slid in. Immediately his hot mouth was working on it, desperate to be sucking again. I smiled. He was eager and he was willing. But he would have to wait.

With his arms resting behind his head the downy soft hair beneath them was exposed to me and my mouth travelled there to explore and lick. He squirmed slightly, not sure if he liked this mild torture, and I knew that no one had ever done this for him before. My tongue moved across his chest, my nose nuzzling the small V of hair between his firm pecs before my mouth came to linger above a small, hard nipple.   I shifted my own arms so that I was gripping his, pinning him gently down to the mattress. And then my tongue flicked across the top of the nipple. Just one slight touch and I heard him gasp, felt him struggle slightly in my grip. But I was not going to let him go. If this was exciting him, just wait until I got lower down. I flicked the nipple again and again he made a sound. This time it was a murmur of pleasure and encouragement. I drew the sensitive, erect mound into my mouth and worked my tongue around it some more; pushing down with my face so that he could feel my weight on him. His hips rose and his chest tried to fight me off, pushing back at me. But I had him held. I gave him a couple of tiny, painless bites and his moaning crescendoed. And then I released my pressure and travelled back to the other side.

He received the same treatment there and returned the same sounds of enjoyment, but now he was not fighting back, he was offering up words in Greek, softly spoken and almost begging. I glanced up from where I was teasing him with my mouth and his eyes were wide in wonder. I paused, he smiled. I caught him off guard and clamped his nipple between my teeth, just hard enough to see him push his head back into the bed, close his eyes and let out a deep groan.

And then I was on the move again, trailing down the flat belly, wetting the whisper thin line of hair that led like a map to the top of his shorts. As I did this I carefully climbed across his legs, coming to kneel between them so that I had him laid out before me. I looked at him again but his eyes were closed. His arms, though, were still obediently lying beyond his head in submissive compliance. I looked back at the slim body, placed my large hands on each hip bone and pushed my tongue into his belly button. He squirmed and raised his hips. I pushed them back down with my grip and started to kiss lower. I could smell the fabric of his shorts, the washing powder even, and I could taste the salt on his skin. Being careful not to touch the straining hardness that was bound within, I gave him firm kisses on his shorts. Starting out at his hips and working my way into his inner thigh. Pushing his legs a little further apart I was able to burrow my face in deeper, pushing up the leg of his shorts and revealing a slight growth of dark hair, just between his balls and the top of his legs where the pelvic bone shows through. Without warning I clamped my mouth around his flesh in there and worked it hard with my tongue. He thrashed beneath me, making short grunting sounds as his body tried to twist free. But it was not to be. Pinning him harder I flashed to his other side, giving the same treatment to the never before explored area. Again he writhed and gasped and I smiled to myself knowing that I was showing him something new, something exciting, something he could teach to the other lads he hung out with.

I gave him a pause; worked my way down his strong, muscled legs until I came to his long, brown feet. Now I was kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed and I drew his legs in together. From there I could look up the length of his body, but his face was obscured now by the straining bulge in the front of his skin tight shorts. All he wanted was for me to strip them from him and give his cock the same attention as he had given mine. But he was going to have to wait for that, I had another treat in store for him before I allowed either of us the satisfaction of working on his cock.

I took his ankles in my hands and started to turn him, he knew what I wanted and rolled onto his stomach without resistance. From my crouched position I could see along his legs, well toned and with only a soft covering of dark hairs, to the small mound of his arse. It was tempting me closer. I started to work my way back up, kissing and nibbling from the soles of his feet, always upwards, always slowly, until I reached the back of his knees. As soon as I started working my tongue in there the sounds he made amplified. His legs stiffened as he felt this new sensation shoot through him and I could see his hips lift from the bed as the pleasure/pain flashed from his legs to his groin and back again. I teased him some more, drinking in the scent of his innocence and revelling in the joy these new sensations were giving him.

And then it was time to move closer to my goal; to the silky smooth skin that I would find beneath those secret-keeping shorts. As I moved up between his legs they parted willingly, allowing me access to where he now knew I was going. My hands stroked the way ahead, flattening the downy hairs on the back of his legs, stroking his flesh and massaging my route to his arse. When I reached it I was able to take one cheek in each of my wide palms and claw at his muscles as he had done at mine, pulling the material of his shorts up so that they would be even tighter at the front. And then I took both sides of the shorts in one hand and twisted so the material came together in one line; pulled upwards and it slid in between his arse cheeks, revealing the dark, smooth flesh to me on either side. And then I pulled just a little harder so that he could feel the tension against his hole.

His groans had now turned to near desperate sobs, and he had buried his face into the sheets to muffle the sounds he was unable to control. With his shorts wedged up against him like this I started to kiss his cheeks. One side then the other, wetting them with my saliva, sucking them in between my lips and taking small bites, just to let him know I had him at my command. His hips ground into the bed making circular movements, rubbing his swollen cock against the sheets below. His arse rose to meet me as I chewed it, licked it, savoured it.

And just when he thought I could show him no more ecstasy I pulled the back of his shorts down revealing to me his darkly puckered hole. It was begging to be serviced, his hips pushing it up towards me, opening him out. And I had led him on far enough. Pulling the shorts as far from my target as I could I leant down towards him and rested my stubbled chin on the top of his hairless arse crack. Then slowly, applying pressure, drew my face downwards, scratching at his sensitive, untouched flesh and making him moan louder. I felt my chin scrape over his hole and he gasped a high pitched sound of surprise. And then my tongue was on it. Flicking at it, poking gently as I drew in the sweet scent of his sweat. It flicked harder, started to penetrate, to part the virgin ring little by little until it was exploring just inside. My mouth surrounded his hole, my nose buried deep into his cheeks and I pulled his arse open a little wider.

He was pushing back into me with more force now. His words were muffled but they urged me on. His hips rose with more desperation and I could feel his head twist from side to side. I pulled him up to his knees and he took the position gratefully, saying ‘yes,’ through his wild groaning. My hands were around his hips, so slender that my fingers almost touched in the front. I gave him more of my stubble, grating it across his slippery anus as I slurped up and down his crack. And then I let my hands slip to the front of his shorts where his young cock was still trapped and straining. As I dug my tongue deeper into him I let my fingers gently play down his solid shaft, barely tickling it through the cotton. I cupped his small balls in one hand and rolled them around, my fingertips playing on them, stroking them. He was working himself up to come. I could feel his body start to spasm, I could hear louder whimpers of desperation. I was going to bring him off without touching the flesh of his 19 year old cock. I just ran my fingernails up and down his shaft, scratched at its engorged head through the shorts and pinched it with my nails as I worked on his ball sack and chewed out his arse.

He was thrusting back into my face with more force now, circling his arse around and pushing back wanting me in deeper. But he would get that later. Later I’d be doing this with my thick cock buried in him. We had all night. He could wait. For now I just wanted to feel him struggle with delight, hear him gasp and whine like a caged puppy as I brought him close to the edge just by licking his hole and torturing his shaft.

In desperation he tried to reach in under himself and grab for his cock, but I was stronger and pushed his hands away. He tried to fight back. I just parted his cheeks further and ground my tongue into his soft, warm insides. He tried to twist around but I kept him pinned there with one squeeze of his small, vulnerable nuts. He gave in, his head slammed down onto the bed and he let out a slow, long moan.

This was it. With a quick movement I tugged the front of his shorts, finally releasing his swollen cock and heard it slap up against his stomach. I gripped his hips with my hands and started ramming him back into my face, fucking his arse with my tongue, not giving him a chance to do anything but succumb to orgasm. I didn’t touch his cock again, I didn’t need to, I just kept pulling him back, pushing him away, pulling him back, going in deeper, listening to him moan, getting louder, getting nearer, digging my stubble into the red raw flesh of his crack, gripping him tighter, feeling him tremble in my hands, as my relentless rhythm sent him over the edge. He let out a deep, angry grunt, then another and his sphincter contracted. He jolted back into me with a sudden spasm and his body went rigid. I could hear the splat of cum hitting his chest, hitting my bed and I could hear him grunt again and again as my rimming continued until every drop was out of him and he started to slow down.

I kept working on him there while his gasps subsided into deep breathing. Kissing his round cheeks and stroking gently at the red marks that my face had left. I worked my thumb around his hole, slipping it over and then in with the lubrication of my spit. He moaned contentedly as my thumb went in and I knew then that there would be more to come. My cock was solid again and I was ready to unload my second wad of the night into his tasty Greek arse. But he was not ready. Not yet, and besides, I’d not yet tasted, nor even seen, his youthful lad cock in the flesh.

I let him lie flat on his stomach, knelt up and wiped my mouth. And then I lay down over him so that my cock rested hard and ready along his hairless crack. I wrapped my arms around him from behind and he searched for my hands under himself. We lay, our sweat mingling in the warmth of the evening, and he pulled me tighter down onto him.

‘I want you to fuck me,’ he whispered. ‘But se ligo.’

‘Se ligo?’ I replied?

‘In a while,’ he said and there was a dreamy, far away contentment in his voice.

‘We have all night.’

He turned his face to mine and kissed me, long, hard almost desperate. ‘And let’s take all night,’ he replied and pushed his compact little arse back into the hardness of my cock.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Greek Lads (part 3)

lukepreston on Gay Stories

I think we fell asleep for a while. I was certainly dozing when I felt him move under me. I was in a half awake, half asleep in a nowhere place with a montage of images drifting through my mind. I could see the other lads at the café, sitting with their ice-coffees, sipping through straws and watching me from under dark eyebrows. In dreams I could stop in front of them, be invisible and stare at their tightly packed jeans. I could take my time to admire their smooth, young faces and their tight fitting tee shirts that showed off their broad chests. In sleep I could imagine them also following me home as my lad had done. See them walk into the room where we now lay. I cou

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ld hear them murmur in their strange language and understand what they were saying. That they approved and were jealous of the younger friend who had found me first, the one who had dared the risk, shadowed me home, dropped to his knees in front of me and then begged me to take him to my bed.

           

            And I could be part of everything that was happening, be the centre of it as it happened in real time.

           

            The other lads gather at my feet and start to stroke my legs. They comment on their strength, marvelling at how another guy feels. I know that they have all wanted to try this, have all had fantasies about sex with another man. And I know that, until now, they have not had the courage to try it. Not for all their bravado and their machismo. To talk among themselves of sex with their girlfriends is fine, even if the talk is only fantasy too, but to talk of sex with a man, to admit that they want to try it; that takes real courage. And somehow in the balmy heat of the late evening they are finding that courage. And they have found us. Lying in each other’s arms, our sweat still drying, our cocks still sticky from the pleasures we have just given ourselves.

            And in my semi-dreaming I can hear the rustle of clothes as they strip, this group of five around the bed. One kneels beside my young friend, feeling the smooth arse cheeks while undoing his own tight jeans. And another crouches beside my head, toying his fingers through my hair, planting tiny kisses on my face, tentatively so as not to wake me. But I am awake.

Beside the bed the tallest, the broadest, peels off his shirt and runs his palms slowly down his ribbed chest towards the top of his trousers. His long fingers slide inside and he grabs the growing bulge that waits within. He has a proud, classic face. His eyes are dark and his lips moist. He thinks I am not watching as he cocks his head at another lad. This one is smaller, tightly built and strong. He stands back a pace not daring to come forward until his mate tells him it is o.k. And now he is kneeling and the tall guy is unbuttoning his fly. A flash of white and the massive cock inside pushes his shorts through. His cock is bent painfully down and forces its way out like the back of a whale breaking the surface of the ocean. Powerful and beautiful. The smaller lad looks up from his kneeling position and his eyes do the begging for him. Carefully, as this has never been done before, he raises a hand and touches the growing cock, lays his hand flat on it as if he is measuring the length. And the taller one pulls his shorts down at the front so that his great tool is released. It hangs long and dark over the waist band, the head already wet. He takes it in his fist and his large hand covers only the base. The rest he places against the lips of his subservient friend who waits for permission to feed. And then, oh so very slowly, the great length is pushed gently in between the youthful lips. It probes them before parting them and filling the eager mouth with a new experience.

Beside me my young friend is moaning again. The same sounds as he made when I explored his arse with my tongue only a short while ago. I turn my peaceful gaze to him and he is smiling back at me. His face glows with delighted confusion and he reaches out his hand to touch me.

‘Are you awake?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘My friend, are you awake?’

Yes I am awake.

I was awake and back into real time. No one else in the room but us. Just me and him. But he was enough.

I flattened his dark hair with my hand as he lay on his front. He had somehow slipped out from under me as I dozed and now delighted me with the sight of his young body stretched beside me. It was like he was saving the best for last. I had still not seen or tasted his cock. He had feasted on mine, sucked me dry and in return I had made him come as I showed him the ecstasy my tongue could bring to his virgin arse. We had rested but I was still not finished. He had said that we had all night. It was dark outside by then. I could hear a church bell toll mournfully in the distance and feel only the slightest breeze nudging in through the open window. Outside a street lamp tried to light the blackened alleyway and shed only the slightest, orange glow, into our room.

I shifted myself. Slid one leg over him and pushed myself up so that I sat across his thighs. My flaccid cock fell onto the small rounds of his backside with a thump and rested there as I looked down onto his strong back. Leaning forward I kissed the back of his neck and his hands immediately made fists, screwing up the sheets as he pulled them in towards himself and sighed. I took his shoulders in my hands and massaged them slowly, pressing my thumbs into the back of his neck and making small circles. And then I slipped my arms under him, hugging him as I had before, my mouth beside the soft lobes of his ears.

‘Turn over,’ I whispered.

He moved without hesitation, but slowly. As I supported myself on my hands and feet, lifting myself up from him as if I were performing a push up to allow him room, he twisted first his chest and then his legs until finally I was staring down into the depths of his eyes. I stayed above him, suspended, as I looked at him. He blinked, his long eyelashes barely touching together in slow motion, and his lips drew into a coy smile. He reached up for me and placed his hands on my shoulders, I felt him brush the hair there, feeling it as if he did not believe it was real. And then I lowered myself down again slowly, so that my cock was the first thing to touch him.

I felt the downy softness of his short pubic hair brush against the end of my penis, felt his warm, limp shaft against my heavy balls as they flattened over it, enveloping it in their folds and holding it there, safe. My stomach touched against the firmness of his, my chest met the hardness of his and our nipples met sending the fizz of a static charge through my body. The tips of our noses touched and our lips fell silently together.

So very gently he kissed me back, opening his mouth to allow our tongues to meet and play. His eyes were open. We watched each other as we kissed, neither wanting to be the first to break the look of disbelief that held us together. His hands explored wherever they could reach on my back, as low as he could find he pressed them into me, forcing me closer to him. I took his head in my large, strong grip and tilted it, taking his lips away from mine and giving me access to his neck. His skin was soft, salty from the sweat and hot from the balmy night. I dug my tongue into him, below his chin, forcing his head back further and he gasped at the strength. But it was a calm strength, a peaceful strength, using only enough force to let him know that it was I who held the power over him. I had captured him with my experience. It was all that had been needed.  

I started to slide lower, all the time pressing my mouth to parts of his body that no one had kissed before. His shoulders, beneath his arms where the hair was soft and across the top of his chest where his flesh was hard. His nipples were small and delicate, sensitive to my probing and, when I gave just the slightest of nibbles there he arched his back and clung to me tighter. But I had been there before and I wanted to move to unexplored places. I could feel only a hint of puppy fat on his stomach as I licked the last traces of his cum from it. He worked hard, he was toned, but yet there was something about him that suggested he was less than his nineteen years.

His hands could reach no further than the top of my head now as I nuzzled in around his pubes. I could feel his cock had lengthened again, and now it pressed up against my chin as I bit into his flesh beside his short pubes. I could smell his musky boy smell, sweat and come, when I buried myself deep between his legs and his groin. He flinched, his back arched up again in response to my pressure and gave me more to press against. His ball sack was soft against my cheek now and his cock touched against my temple. It would soon be mine. I would soon have the prize I had hungered for since I first saw him, packet bulging in tight jeans, outside the café. My own cock was hanging, semi hard between my legs as I knelt. But it could wait. This moment was for him, not me.

I lifted my head to look up his smooth body and into his brown eyes. His own head was raised from the pillow slightly so that he could see more clearly what I was doing. His mouth was open in bewilderment, his eyes wide in disbelief. How long had he dreamed of this, how long had he waited?

He did not have to wait longer, and neither did I. I dropped my head and gazed onto his cock for the first time. It lay flat against his body, the tip almost reaching to his belly button, his foreskin was pulled right back, revealing the pink head that glistened in anticipation. The shaft was even, smooth, no veins, just dark, brown flesh that now lay taught and waiting. Below it his balls lay in their hairless sack, not big, but perfectly proportioned to his length. And around all of this were the short, almost shaved hairs that I had felt before.

I lent forward, drawing in his sweet smell in a deep breath that numbed my pounding heart and calmed my excited breathing. My tongue touched the tip of his cock for the first time and I tasted his salty precum as I probed the slit so very gently. He twitched again and I heard him breathe in sharply. And then my tongue was tracing the rim of his cock head, just flicking it, teasing it, torturing the lad whose hands pressed on my head, trying to push me onto him. I kissed his shaft, felt the springy flesh that covered the solidness beneath, turned my head so that my mouth nibbled down it like it was corn cob until I reached the loose skin beneath. Here I played my lips over the small orbs that rested freely inside. I felt them roll around on my lips before I pushed in under them and they parted across the bridge of my nose.

And then I was working upwards again, pushing his balls to one side and licking hard at his cock as I went. I reached the top and pressed the tip against him as I forced my tongue around the rim once more. I could hear his head moving from side to side, could hear him try and grunt out words through his rapid, gasping breathing. His hands fell from my head and gripped at the sheets on either side of us and his body stiffened. I took his hips in my hands, bent my head forward and placed my lips around the tip of his cock.

He was wet from my kisses and he slipped in easily, all the way down until my face was buried in the lightness of his pubes and my stubble was brushing against his balls. He gasped a quick snatch of surprise and I pulled him up so that his backside was off the bed and let him thrust in as far as he would go. There was room for more, but he had no more to give. I drew back my head, letting his cock come all the way out until the head was between my lips again. I closed them a little, made my mouth tighter for him so that when he pushed again there was more friction. His smooth hard-on slid against the roof of my mouth as I went down again and this time I rolled him around with my tongue. I held him in there, sucked on him, dug my fingers into his small arse and pulled at his cheeks. His breathing spluttered as again he tried to reach further into me.

I let him out once more, slowly, still sucking, still manipulating his shaft with my mouth, until he was once again resting on the bed. I made him wait.

‘Again, please,’ he begged and I knew then that this was the thing he had been waiting for since he first saw me. ‘Please, don’t stop.’

Something told me that once he had come, once I had sucked his youthful juice from him, he would be spent. I knew that this was my chance to give us both the last of our pleasure. I kept the tip of his cock between my lips as I turned and climbed across his chest so that I was facing his feet. His cock was pulled away from his belly, it slid in harder against the roof of my mouth like this. I held his balls, wrapped my fist around the top of the sack and pulled them down. He was thrusting into my mouth now and was losing himself in the sensations I was allowing him. I felt his hands again, holding my waist, pulling at the hair around my arse that was now over his face. He pulled me down, his eager tongue went straight against my hole and he started eating at me, fast, hard, desperate. As I went down around his cock I pushed back, forcing my hairy crack further around his face, I rolled it around, let him savour the scent of older man as I feasted on his youthful flesh. His hands started to claw for my cock and found it solid, swollen and ready. He tried to wriggle under me, to get my heavy balls into his mouth but they were too big for him. He grabbed for them with his mouth, held my cock in his fist and started stroking it. I buried my face into his balls, his cock pushing deeper into my hot throat. And like this we moved in a rhythm, in harmony. Me pushing back against his face with my hairy arse and him pushing against mine with his smooth cock.

I could hear him gasping for breath as he bit and clawed at me, his hips thrusting uncontrollably as he pushed them up, pulled them down, and tried to fuck my face. And each time he did that I pushed my arse harder against his face making his grip on my cock tighten. I felt him struggle down the bed some more and then felt his mouth around the base of my cock. I lifted myself up with my feet so that he could see the monster he was pulling on. And all the time I worked his shaft, sucking his breath though it, sliding it in and out, up and down, fingering his balls, clawing at his arse, dragging him into me, pushing him out.

Until his body stiffened, he cried out and my mouth filled with spurt after spurt of his innocent, lad cum. I kept it there, held it in my mouth as he tried to push in deeper, wanting to come again, wanting to carry on. But he was spent, his smooth cock started to turn limp and I let it slip from my mouth. His juice dribbled a little to my chin as I swung myself around and sat astride his chest. His smooth stomach felt slippery against my wet arse hole as I towered over him, my cock standing out solid and ready just like when he’d first seen it.

He grabbed for it, put both hands around the shaft and pulled. Slowly up and down, his face screwed up in concentration and his eyes fixed on the swollen purple head. By balls banged against his chest as he beat on me as if his life depended on it. I tipped forward, my hands either side of his head, and felt the deep down tingling that told me he was going to get a face full of man juice.

And he did. My cock erupted and shot a stream of thick hot cum that splattered onto his lips. He opened his mouth and caught the next load, kept his mouth open to catch the rest. Some landed on his cheek, some across his nose until, after five or six powerful spasms his face was dripping and my balls were empty.

He let go of me and I sat back down on his hips. I could feel his flaccid cock lying helpless and exhausted beneath my buttocks. It dribbled the last if its juice into the hair in my crack as I stared down at him. He opened his mouth, showing me what he had collected there, and then swallowed. I did the same with what I had of his. As if we were sharing some sort of communion we drank together before we strained our bodies to kiss and share the last drops equally between us.

As I said when I first sat down to write up this account, it is now dawn and he has just left. We fell asleep and there were no more dreams of the other Greek lads wandering into my apartment. I woke up during the night and found my new friend still lying beside me, naked, curled up against me with one had across my broad chest. And a little while ago I woke again. He was sliding from the bed as if not to wake me.

‘Are you going?’ I said, and my whisper seemed loud in the silence of the darkest hour.

‘I must go to work.’

He knelt down beside the bed and placed his head on my chest. ‘Can I come back? Maybe tonight?’ His huge round eyes reflected the street lamp outside and were moist.

‘Sure,’ I said and stroked his hair. ‘If you want to.’

‘I want to.’ He sounded almost offended that I’d hinted otherwise. I knew he’d be back. ‘But…’

There was bound to be a ‘but…’ I said nothing, just waited for disappointment.

‘But may I bring someone with me next time?’

I will not count the hours. I will go about my holiday until this evening and wait to see what happens. If he returns, with or without a friend, I will be happy. If I never see him again, I will still be happy because I will have the memory. “Etsi einai i zoi mou,” as they say in Greece. “Such is my life.”

But, if he does return, I will discover his name.

Contact the author at http://www.bookpuppy.co.uk/"> face="Times New Roman" color="#800080">www.bookpuppy.co.uk if YOU would like to suggest what happens next.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Turkish Hotel

lukepreston on Gay Stories

I was staying overnight in a tatty old hotel in Turkey where I was doing some travelling. This night I’d got back to my room late after an evening of sight seeing and dining and pulled off my dusty boots to let my feet breathe and cool down. It was hot, there was no air conditioning in my room and I needed a shower.

 

It didn't work. It had worked in the morning and on the previous night but not now. Not now when I really needed it. Cursing, I slipped my shorts and boots back on and headed down to the small reception are

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a.

 

I hadn’t seen him before, this young Turkish guy behind the counter. He wore a short sleeved shirt open to reveal a smooth chest, his face was clean shaven. His dark skin was smooth and his hair was black, well trimmed and glistened with some kind of gel. I explained that my shower was not working and he explained that there was no one around to fix it. He was the owner’s son and had a room in the hotel, the owner was out, the reception was closed, but he would do what he could and I should follow him.

 

It’s not every day a fit, thirty-something Turkish guy offers to let you use his shower and I wasn’t going to say no. I followed him along the corridor admiring his tight butt in his tight jeans and felt my own jeans start to get tighter around my crotch area.

 

His room was on the ground floor, simple, uncluttered and cooler than mine. Beyond the bed was the door to the bathroom and he simply said ‘go ahead,’ as he waved his arm in that direction. I thanked him and went into the small bathroom. It was clean and there were plenty of towels, soaps and stuff for me to use; he was obviously a clean guy.

 

The shower was great. A hard jet of water at just the right temperature soon had my body relaxed. My feet ceased their throbbing and I even sobered slightly after my meal and Turkish beers. I didn't want it to end but knew I shouldn’t outstay my welcome. I turned off the water and pulled back the shower curtain.

 

He was sitting on a wide ledge in the bathroom, naked. He had his knees drawn up to his chest and his hands wrapped around them. Between his legs I could see five inches of soft, dark meat hanging free, his balls rested on a towel that he had put on the shelf and his uncut cock rested on it, dark and slightly wrinkled. He was looking at me, his mouth slightly open as if he was about to say something.

 

I just stood and stared back not knowing what to do. My own cock, not as fat as his but equally as long, stayed limp and my balls, warmed by the shower, hung low and relaxed. I knew that I would not stay soft for long and reached for a towel.

 

He shook his head, stretched out his legs and let one swing to the floor. His cock fell against one thigh as his ball sack splayed out on the white towel. I shrugged, ‘what?’ He smiled broadly showing crooked white teeth in his tanned face and gripped his cock with one hand. I stared and felt my pulse quicken. He started moving his hand slowly up and down his shaft, bunching his foreskin up over his cock-head before pulling it right down again to reveal his pink, swelling nob. He kept smiling at me.

 

I smiled back and made to step out of the shower. He stopped smiling and shook his head. I was to stay where I was. I did and moved my hand to my own cock. He shook his head again. I was to watch and not touch; neither him nor me. I let my hands hang by my side and feasted my eyes on his growing cock as he continued to wank himself slowly.

 

The cock grew longer, it stayed the same girth but the length increased as it filled. As he pulled it his balls lifted from the towel on the upstroke and then spread out again on the down, until his pole was fully erect and his balls contracted. They didn't hang so low but still showed themselves as the two perfect rounds that they were. They were almost hairless, his pubes were short and inky black, his nob was now purple as he continued to pleasure himself with the same, slow strokes.

 

My cock was solid now, sticking out into thin air, throbbing and crying out for someone to touch it. I wanted to. He could tell, he kept smiling and shook his head again. I was there to watch only.

 

And I watched. I watched as he tipped his head forward and let a little spit fall from his mouth and land directly on his exposed piss-slit. His hood bunched up and swallowed it. He pulled it back to show his cock-head wet and glistening. His balls tightened further as his slow, deliberate strokes continued. He looked at the eight inches of meat he had in his hand, watched himself as his fist moved gently up and down and then he looked back at me.

 

He bit his bottom lip and his smile narrowed, his eyes closed slightly and he let out a very quiet moan. He gasped, held his fist down into his pubes letting his cock-head stand inflamed and ready, untouched. He looked back down at it and swallowed hard.

 

I waited. He waited.

 

It was all in slow motion, his slit opened, his juice oozed out; one short spurt followed by a flow of creamy spunk that escaped and trickled down his shaft like slow moving lava from a volcano. One long line of Turkish cum slid from the big, swollen cock-head and down the length of smooth, dark meat in perfect symmetry until it started to dribble over his fingers. His fist had not moved, he just held his cock as it let its cum out gently, no sudden movements, no spasms, just flawlessly flowing young juice for me to look at and savour.

 

He looked back up at me as the last seep of cum left his cock and slid down to his fingers. He smiled again and his breathing slowed. He looked at my cock, rigid and painful, my balls contracted beneath it full and desperate to unload. I longed to wrap my fist around my shaft, to shove it into his smooth mouth and unload the bucket load of cum that was ready and waiting. I started to move my hand again but again he shook his head.

 

He stood up. His cock stuck out proud before him and a bead of cream dripped from it. He walked towards me, his eyes on my cock and I imagined his lips around the base...

 

He shook his head and left the bathroom, presenting me with his smooth skinned ass, as perfect as the rest of him.

 

When I reached the bedroom he was on all fours on the bed, he showed me his asshole, pink against the near black skin of his crack. He moved his knees apart, tucked his head down between his hands, raised his ass in the air and waited for me.

 

And then I knew that that was where he wanted my cock to go.

 

© www.sargonauts.com

Straight student's glory hole

lukepreston on Gay Stories

I was at college as a mature student; mature being twenty seven. Actually it was only one day a week for a year and my employer was paying for the course. It got me out of the office and into a completely different environment. The college catered for students of all ages, most were late teens, early twenties, and of all races. This was in South London so there was a huge variety of nationalities attending there. My class was made up of other mature students, mostly married and boring but there was one guy who stood out from the rest.

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His name was Jakob, which I first thought was German but he turned out to be Polish. He had been born in London, moved back to Poland and then returned to London to work and study for his diploma, sponsored, like me, by his firm of builders. He was nineteen, a bit shy and straight. I learned this in the cafeteria during our second week. By the end of the first term I had learned very little else about him, except that he kept himself to himself, never stayed after class for a drink, and disappeared every lunchtime for about half an hour. I never knew where he went but, as I started to become more interested in him I decided that I would make it my duty to find out.

Our second term started in the spring and by this time some of the class had dropped out. There were only twelve of us but I was pleased to see that Jakob had returned. The first week back I tried to make conversation with him and made sure I moved from my usual desk to the one beside him so that I would have more opportunities to talk to him. From this new position I could also glance at him more often. But he remained quiet and secretive and we got no further than hello and good bye.

During one lecture, a particularly boring one about health and safety regulations, I noticed that he had something hidden in his folder. He had the folder standing up on the desk in front of him so that the lecturer could not see that he was thumbing through the magazine that was hidden inside. From my place next to him I could quite clearly see that it was a magazine full of hard-core pictures of guys and women getting down to some heavy sex. As he turned the pages he looked up, as if he was listening to the lecture, and then would pretend to write something down. He was actually just doodling, but he was giving the appearance of being an attentive student.

I rested my elbow on my desk, propped up my head in my hand and pretended that I was also making notes. What I was actually doing was giving myself an uninterrupted view of Jakob, and particularly the front of his trousers. He wore combat style army pants, tight around the crotch and top of the legs with baggy pockets on the sides. They hugged his slim waist nicely and helped to define the bulge at the front. The bulge was not huge, Jakob himself was only about five feet seven tall and a bit scrawny to be honest, but what he lacked in physique he made up for in looks. Smooth skin, short black hair and wide, deep eyes that grew larger as he continued to gawp at his porno mag as if he’d never seen one before. And the more he gawped the more the front of his trousers grew. He shifted his position, bringing one leg up and resting his ankle on his knee.

The lecturer was asking a question and, for a moment, I was distracted. I answered him and then wrote something down. When I looked back to the lad next door I caught him pulling his hand away from the front of his trousers, having just adjusted himself. I could clearly see the outline of his cock pressing firm against the light material of his combat trousers now. It was lying to one side, reaching almost to a pocket and beneath it his balls were making a nice, round bulge. I wanted to stop time, if it were only possible, get down on my knees and unzip those combats to take hold of the meat that was straining to be let out. But the lesson dragged on, after a while Jakob put his magazine away and paid attention. And after what seemed like an eternity, the lecture finished and we were let out for lunch.

I noticed that he kept his folder, complete with hidden magazine, under his arm as he left the room. The rest of the class turned right, towards the canteen, but Jakob turned left. This, I decided, was going to be the day I discovered where he went. I followed at a reasonable distance, my eyes fixed firmly on the small rounds of his arse. My own cock was still recovering from the unexpected turn on before, the front of my briefs was slightly damp and my own balls felt swollen. Once I found out where he went I was going to find a cubicle somewhere and jack off while the images of him were still fresh in my mind.

At the end of the corridor he turned left again and climbed the stairs. Other students were coming down in hoards, making their way to lunch before all the tables were taken, but Jakob ignored them. He knew where he was going and nothing was getting in his way. He climbed two floors to the library and went in. Maybe he was just an avid reader? Maybe he took his porn to the quiet recesses of the library to jack off under the table?

The library was all but deserted. Someone was at work behind the reception desk and someone else was studying over by the windows. I paused, pretended I’d forgotten what I had come in for, waited to see where Jakob went, and then followed him again. He disappeared behind the furthest row of shelves and, by the time I got there, had vanished completely. This was a new part of the college to me. I’d never been in the library before; if I needed books I bought them.

There was only one place he could have gone; through a door showing a sign for ‘Gents’. Of course! He came up here to the back of beyond to wank himself over his straight porn. Maybe he couldn’t do it at home with his parents around? Whatever the reason I was glad he chose somewhere out of the way. The toilets were silent inside. Three cubicles lined one wall and beside them was one long, steel trough. A couple of old sinks stood opposite and one, high up window, was shut and dirty. The door to the furthest cubicle was closed and the other two open so I guessed he must already have been inside. I slipped into the middle one and was relived to see that it locked.

But now what was I going to do? I heard the rustle of pages next door and knew that he was in there already flicking through his pictures. I looked at the cubicle walls and realised that this was the place to come when you wanted to cum. The graffiti bore testament to many a horny, frustrated student. Apart from the crude drawings of spurting cocks and hairy balls, apart from the mobile phone numbers and the dates to meet there was a huge variety of one-liners. ‘I want to suck your cock.’ ‘Just had a new lad in here, only 17, huge prick.’ ‘Fuck my arse in tights and panties.’ To mention a few.

I sat down and pressed my ear to the thin, plasterboard wall to hear better the sounds from next door. And that is when I noticed the glory hole. It had been gouged out, the edges smoothed off in an almost professional way and then covered with a piece of tissue. I blew on it, the tissue fell away and I could see the floor of the cubicle next door. Resting on the floor was a pair of feet in black boots. Scrunched up around them were a pair of green combat trousers and a pair of white boxer shorts. I leaned further forward and could see his legs, smooth, almost hairless and, resting on them, his magazine.

I don’t know if he had noticed me then, he must have heard me come it but he didn’t stop what he was doing. I could see that his right hand was holding the magazine but I could see no more. The cover was hiding his other hand and the youthful cock he must have been fisting in it. But this view was enough. My cock was hardening and needed to be let out. I stood, took a risk but didn’t care. I stood facing the wall so that if he looked through the hole he would see me, and I slowly unzipped my jeans. I made sure my belt buckle rattled as I undid it and then slowly slid my own trousers down to the floor. I stood up straight again and fondled my stiffening cock through my shorts, if he was watching me he would get a good show. I pulled the waistband down a little to reveal some of my hairy bush and cupped my balls through the material of the shorts. My six inches was tenting out at the front and when I pulled my shorts down further it slapped out to freedom, the head damp and sticky, the skin pulled right back. I stood there, wrapping my fist around my bollocks and just showing everything. Everything hard, hairy and ready for action.

And then I stood back a little and crouched down onto my haunches. Time to see what he was up to. My face came level with the hole just as he stood up. I saw his smooth skinned thighs, a neat bush of black hair set against a white, flat stomach and a slender, young piece of flesh hanging semi-hard over a hairless, wrinkled sack. So this is what a nineteen year old Polish cock looked like. I wanted to know how it tasted. He was showing it to me proudly and with no shyness now. And he took a step closer.

The pink tip came through the hole, circumcised and glistening and, after a moment’s manipulation his cute ball sack was through, framed by the wall, just lying there waiting for me. I lent forward, breathed in the scent of his groin and blew gently on the tip of his penis. It twitched, I licked the pre-cum with my tongue and it twitched again. Slowly I ran my tongue along the shaft until it played around his short hairs, then back along underneath until the rim of his tip rested on my bottom teeth. I closed my lips carefully around it, formed them into a circle and held him there while my tongue darted and jabbed at his cock head. Within seconds he was fully hard. I slid him in so very slowly, savouring the smoothness, the feel of his warm flesh against my lips, until my nose was into his bush and my head was against the wall. I sucked and then slid back, my tongue pressed firmly against the underside of the youthful meat. Again I rested his head on my teeth and sucked in the juice that was starting to escape.

I put one hand around his balls, cupped them and rolled them around in my palm as I went down again, still slowly, still teasing him. I heard a slight moan as I took his whole length to the back of my throat, and another when I released him and started licking his ball sack. I longed for the wall to disappear, so that I could wrap my arms around his slim waist and feel the firmness of his tight arse in my large hands. I wanted to turn him around, burry my face in his crack and show him what other pleasures men could endure with men. But I was also content to taste his young sack, feel his hardness against my face and breathe in the scent of lad sweat as I worked his bollocks with my tongue.

And then he was pulling away, his cock slipped back through the hole and I saw him crouch down. Immediately I stood up, fed my own meat through the hole and pressed myself up against the cold, hard wall. I felt a hand stroke along my shaft as if it didn’t know what to do with it. Fingers lightly played the full length, turned my cock head inquisitively and then ran through my manly bush of coarse hair. I felt his other hand take my ball sack and roll it, as I had done to him. And then I felt the first breath of warm air against my cock. Soft lips tentatively touched my throbbing end. A wet, soft tongue licked me there and then my shaft was surrounded by heat. I wished I could have held his head, felt his soft, dark hair in my grip as I pushed myself in. But with the wall between us he was now in control. He kept on at my balls as he went down, drawing me in further until I could feel the back of his throat resist against the meat that was trying to get in deeper. I heard him gag, felt him pull back, and then he tried again. As soon as I felt his lips dampen my hair I knew he had taken all of me. His squeezing on my balls quickened and his mouth closed tighter around me.

He pulled back quickly, I felt cold air on my cock head for a second and then it was hot again, plunged to the back of his throat in one deft movement. Again it was released, and again covered as he took me in, drew back, took me in and then drew back again. He was sliding his throat up and down my shaft in a faster rhythm now, feasting on it as if he’d never tasted a man before and this was his only chance. Eagerly he grabbed and pulled at my tightening balls as his mouth worked up and down my shaft. I knew I would not be able to endure this for long. My cock had fattened, somewhere inside I felt the first stirrings and my cock head started to tingle. I wanted to warn him but there was no way. I tried to pull back, I wanted to taste him again, I wanted this to last for a long time, but he had me held fast with his keen, young mouth.

He was beating down on me, using his mouth to wank me off. His mouth felt like a strong, powerful hand pumping my meat as he swallowed me, sucked, slid me out and dived on me again. I clawed at the wall, pushed myself back so that my cock was thrust as deep into him as it could go. I could see the rough graffiti, read the vulgar words, ‘I want to cum in a cute student’s mouth.’ ‘Straight student wants to taste man cock.’  

You’re gunna taste it now. My balls were filled, my cock gorged and scraping against his teeth as he gagged on me. But still he took me in. I pushed as far into him as I could go, and my legs tensed. I grabbed my solid arse cheeks with both hands, and pressed myself as close to the wall as I could. And erupted. My hips jolted in spasm, my cock burned inside his throat and grew hotter as I felt my cum shoot into him and slash back around my shaft. As soon as it started he dived down on me, buried his face into me and held my cock as far in his mouth as he could get it. I shot again, his tongue stroked against my pumping shaft and his fingernails dug into my bollocks. I felt him swallow, the friction of his tight throat on my cock head sent another wave through me and I spurted more juice into his straight gullet. He kept me in his mouth as I gasped and twitched to stillness, licking my cock and draining it of its last drop of cum, drinking me in, drinking me down and dry. Until I could tolerate it no more and I pulled back.

He let me go and I slipped my glistening, wet cock back through the hole. I squatted down again, ready to reciprocate, keen to give him the same treatment. He stood up. I licked my lips to get them moist and waited to receive his young tool. But he just stood there, his cock hanging semi-lip, a dribble of cum hanging from its head. It was a gorgeous, smooth piece of meat that I had tasted only briefly and now may never taste again. It was too late. He had cum while blowing me. He was showing me the effect my cock had had on him.

I put a finger through, beckoned him closer and, when he did put his flaccid cock up against the hole I just took it in my mouth and held it there for a while. And then I let him go. Heard him do up his combat trousers and leave the cubicle. I dried myself off and did the same.

When I stepped back into the enforced silence of the library I saw him walking away. He stopped at the door, turned around and looked at me. I sat at a table, pretending to glance over a newspaper. After a few seconds he came back and stood in front of me. He lent down.

‘Will you tell anyone?’ he said nervously.

I shook my head. ‘Of course I won’t,’ I reassured him.

‘Thanks. See you next week in class then.’

He stood up and turned. Where his hand had rested on the table was now a piece of paper. I unfolded it.

‘Straight student wants to taste man cock.’ It read. And underneath this a mobile phone number and another line: ‘In case you can’t wait until next week.’

© www.bookpuppy.co.uk">http://www.bookpuppy.co.uk/">www.bookpuppy.co.uk

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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