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Trip Money

by Habu


I had become a regular at the gym on Tuesday nights, and this 40-something businessman named Clint, who was also a regular on that night, and I had gotten to where we regularly spotted each other through our bar bell work. He was in great shape for his age, leaner than I was, but with well-defined, ropy muscles and chiseled square-cut features. I’d been trying to save the money for some time to get out to the beach for a couple of weeks to cruise chicks with my friends, but emergencies kept cropping up and I didn’t seem to be able to set money aside. Finally, I had gotten down to a week before my friends were going, and I still didn’t have any money for that trip. I must have been moping around about that during my Tuesday night workout, because Clint noticed that I was withdrawn.

“What’s the matter, Ben?” he asked, as he was spotting me on the weights. “You don’t seem yourself this evening.”

“Naw, I’m okay,” I answered. “I just have this problem where I’m supposed to go to the beach with my friends next week, and I don’t have the money to go.”

Later, as I was dressing after my shower, Clint sought me out and said he thought he knew how I could get the money I needed for the trip. He invited me to stop by his house after I was finished at the gym and we’d discuss how maybe we could help each other out on a little business proposition. I said, sure why not. He gave me his address, which was in a swanky part of town, and I followed his car back to his place.

We entered the house and he suggested we go to the kitchen, where I leaned back into a counter, with my hands spread out on the surface, while he broke out a couple of beers and some chips. He brought the beers over, handed me one, took a swig from his while I did the same with mine, and put one his hands on the counter beside me.

“So, what’s the possible business deal,” I asked, a little nervous, because he was standing pretty close to me. Clint put his beer down and then placed his other hand on the counter. Both of his hands were closer into my body than mine were, so I was pretty much stuck there, facing him pretty close.

“You are, Ben. You are the business deal.”

“I . . . I don’t understand, Clint. What do you mean?”

“You want to go on this trip pretty bad, don’t you, Ben?”

“Well, yeah. It’s about all I’ve been thinking of for a couple of months.”

“And you’d pretty much do anything at this point to get the money to go short of robbing a bank, wouldn’t you? You sounded pretty desperate when you were telling me about it back at the gym.”

“Well, yes, I’d work pretty hard.”

“Well, I wouldn’t work you all that hard, Ben. And I’m sure you’d enjoy it even though you’d be leery at first. But I’m sure you’d like earning the money.”

“So, what’s the business deal, Clint?” He really had me wondering here.

Clint paused for a minute, picked up his beer, took a swig and put the beer can back, and repositioned his hand. Then he posed the killer question in a low, husky voice. “Ever done it with a man before, Ben?”

I was shocked and getting a little shaky. But I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Those workouts in the gym; Clint had looked me over pretty good and sometimes I felt he had his hands on me when he was spotting a little longer and more personally than I thought was necessary. I had never said anything about it, because I guess I found him attractive and I had gotten a little electric charge out of the attention and touches.

“No.” I managed. “No, and if this. . . ”

“We can make this very easy for you, Ben. I have no idea how much money you need, but we can discuss this in terms of levels, and you can stop it at whatever comfort and need level you want. Doesn’t that sound fair and attractive?”

“Levels?” I said.

“Yes, levels,” Clint repeated. “Say, $20 for each kiss for openers. $50 if you take off your shirt and let me do any feeling I want above the waist. Another $50 if you let me feel you below the waist through your pants, but $100 if you let me feel you skin-to skin below the waist with your pants on; $150 if you let me strip you down to the floor and feel.”

“Uh, I don’t know, Ben.” He came in closer to me, up against me in front, and I could feel a hardness against my crotch.

“An easy $90 bucks with your pants on, Ben, and at least $190 just for harmless feeling. Neither a hand job or a blow job would be included in that. If you let me get you off by hand, that would be another $100, or if you let me blow you, that would be another $200. We’re already up to over $400 with a few added kisses, Ben, and we haven’t really done anything yet any straight man wouldn’t do. I don’t know how much money you need for this trip, Ben, but I do know you are thinking about this hard, because I can feel you getting harder. During any of this time, you can do what you like with me, no deduction for that.”

I was betraying myself. I couldn’t help doing so, and Clint could tell I wasn’t totally turned off by this proposal. Indeed, the money sounded good, and I’ll have to admit that I was both curious and attracted to Clint.

“And, then, if you fuck . . .,” Clint started again. But I brought a finger up to his lips.

“Let’s not go farther into the menu just now, Clint. Let’s say I’ll take it through to as long as I keep my pants on and then we’ll see where it can go from there.

Almost as if he was afraid I might change my mind, without arguing Clint brought his lips to mine in a short, sweet kiss. And it was sweet. I didn’t realize that another man’s lips could be so sweet. He pulled away and looked intensely in my eyes.

“The first $20,” I said, with a little grin.

“God, that’s right,” Clint said. Each of those is costing me. I’d better think more about getting my money’s worth, don’t I?”

With that, he came back in for another kiss. He got his top lip between mine and pushed my lips apart so that my mouth was open to a deeper kiss. It felt surprisingly pleasant. He gave me a little buzz and I felt both my cock and Clint’s react to the intimacy. He hands went to my waist, and he pulled my T-shirt up to under my armpit. I wondered why he didn’t pull it over my head, but then I remembered the ticking of the cash registers and figured he didn’t want to end that second kiss too soon. The thought made me grin, which Clint took as affirmation of the kiss, and he pushed my lips farther apart and got his tongue in my mouth. I gave a little lurch not only from that, but from feeling his hands encase my bare waist. He slowly pulled his hands up my sides, his fingers stretch out so that he covered a good deal of skin on his way up. He stopped when he got to my pecs and worked his fingers through my chest hair until his hands felt both of my nipples, which he rubbed, sending little shivers through my body. His crotch was pressing into mine now, and I could clearly feel his desire through the multiple layers of material. His hands came back out to the side and went up to my armpits and then up to my upper arms, pushing my arms up over my head. He stood there momentarily, lessening the strength of his kiss, making it tender once more, while he held my wrists back against the upper kitchen cabinets with his hands and pressed his crotch into mine. He ended the kiss and brought his mouth down to nuzzle the artery running up the side of my neck. That gave me a little twitch down in the crotch.

“$90 already, I said, "Although I don’t think the mouth work on my neck was included in the deal.”

“The deal was that I could feel you as much as I wanted above the waist at this level; it didn’t specify what I’d be feeling you with.”

“Point . . . uhh . . . taken,” I croaked. My stutter had been caused because his mouth had moved to a nipple and he was nibbling quite disconcertingly on that. He moved his hands back down my arms and around my biceps, and I started to pull my arms down, but he quickly lifted them back up and stripped my T-shirt off, and I got the message that he wanted me to keep my arms above my head. This served to stretch out my torso. His arms came back down and me brought his thumbs to my nipples and spread his other fingers up toward and into the hair at my armpits. His mouth headed south. With kisses, nibbles, and lickings, he came down my chest and belly. He stopped briefly at my navel but then continued down my lower belly. To his advantage, I was wearing low-riding jeans, so he managed to get to just the top of my pubic hair. Even at that, he got his tongue under the waistband and tantalized me with what he did at the crease at the upper edge of my pelvis bone.

“Whoa,” I said. “Not below the pant line, per agreement.” He had moved his hands down my body as he tongued his way down and now had them on my upper thighs.

“Ready to make some more money?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if we should go any farther.”

“You’ve already agreed to the next two levels,” he said. “It would be breaking the deal to back out now. Nothing has really been done before we get to the end of that part of the deal, where you no longer keep your jeans on. You’ve just got some money and you don’t have to admit to anything life altering.” He had already brought his right hand up to where it was lightly covering my package. “So, are you ready to add to the cash register.”

“Yes, I guess so,” teased mightily by that hand covering my cock.

But at that point, he stood back up and backed off a bit. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off his body. Then he pulled his undershirt over his head. He was in great shape for a man his age, as I knew we was because I’d seen him work out shirtless before. The thick veins running through his pumped-up muscles gave me a slight thrill. His pants were really low-riding and must have been kept up by that tented bulge I could see right below the beltline. He leaned into me, our torsos skin on skin, and I felt his hand return to my crotch. He brought his mouth to mine for another lingering kiss. His hand at my crotch became more active. He increased the pressure, moved about more rapidly, and, when he had traced my engorging cock and found my balls, he began to clutch and rub in a way that was driving me crazy. I began to moan, and my pelvis seemed to take on a life of its own, moving in a slight grinding motion. He pulled away from the kiss, and his tongue traveled down along my neck and into my right armpit.

“$270, I squeaked.”

“Doesn’t get you too far, does it. You’ll be wanting to know what big money is. And speaking of big . . .” he had the flat of his hand on my belly, and he was working the fingers of his right hand under my waistband and crawling through my pubic hair.”

“Shit, these jeans are just too tight,” he complained. And then he must have unbuttoned my jeans and quickly pulled the zipper down with his left hand, because suddenly I felt a release of the constriction at my crotch, and felt Clint’s right hand slide down onto my dick. He wrapped his hand around my dick and then continued on down to the head, and then on down to weigh my balls. I could feel him catch and intake his breath, and found that this gave me a little thrill of pleasure, just as it did when the ladies got to the point of realizing what going to slide into them.

“Oh, God, Ben.” Clint whispered huskily. “What a package you’ve got. What are you? Eight, nine inches?”

“Nine,” I said, with some pride.

“And these balls. Like cannonballs.”

“I’m glad you approve. But you know, you’ve just gone to $370 and beyond. You were supposed to stop with feeling what you could with the jeans on. You’ve gone beyond that. Uh, oh, God. Gawd!” His hand was flying all over my prick and balls, and his fingers played in my pubic hair. “Stop that, I said weakly. We hadn’t gotten to hand jobs, yet, either.”

“Technically wrong on both counts,” Clint said breathily. “First, your jeans aren’t off yet. I admit I miscalculated on being able to get between them and your cock, but between the tightness of the jeans and the gigantic proportions of your cock, I had little choice but to make some room. But technically, your pants are still on. And, second, this, Ben, isn’t a hand job. You’ll know when you get a hand job from me, and don’t you think you want that now, especially because we’re about to get into the big money offers?”

He had me panting. I still had my hands over my head, but it took effort to keep them there. I guess I thought as long as they were there, I wasn’t really participating in any of that. But they were feeling like lead. I had the urge to reach out and touch him. And I knew I could if I wanted to. He had made clear that I was free to put my hands on him if I wanted.

He didn’t misread my hesitation. He pulled back and unbuttoned his pants. “Here, maybe this will help you decide. This is all harmless. This doesn’t mean you can’t do it with the ladies; it just means you are one sexy guy; one sexy guy with a cock that any woman or man would love to get their hands—and other body parts—onto.”

With that, he dropped his pants, and pulled off his briefs and his shoes and socks and stood there, naked, in front of me. He was magnificent. Wiry but perfectly ropy muscled and proportioned, fiery red hair at his crotch to match that on his head, and his dong wasn’t his smallest of muscles. His might be as long as mine; it certainly was thicker and it had a slight curve to it when hard, as it most certainly was now. My quaking arms went out to him and our bodies crashed together. We went back into a lip lock, this time my lips spreading on their own volition and my tongue meeting his. His hands spread under my pants at the hips and he pushed the jeans down my thighs. His hands wrapped themselves around my butt cheeks. For the lack of originality, my hands went to his thin butt. His hands were roaming my more bulbous, but well-formed butt. When our crotches met, our dicks crashed into each other and were both forced up and between our bellies, side by side. Clint brought one of his hands between us and encased both of the cocks. We rocked back and forth momentarily and then leaned back into the counter.

Clint exited the kiss and buried his face in my neck. I heard him say in a low voice, “Up to $520 for dropping trow, even though we haven’t finished that yet, and I’ll give you a bonus for the kiss, so let’s say $550. Do you want to move on to the hand job? $100 for that, but $200 if you let me finish it in a blow job.”

“Yes, yes,” I whispered. “That far. I can go that far.” My hands were traveling along his back and shoulder muscles and then moving to the front and feeling his pecs and abs, admiring the work we’d done in the gym.

“Yes to what?” He whispered.

“Yes to it all so far. Suck me. You can suck me.”

“There’s a caveat,” he whispered into my neck.

“What?” I said.

“We won’t get to the big money unless you feel me too. My dick is aching for your touch. It would mean nothing to you, but it would make the money worth it all to me.”

I tentatively moved my hand down to his waist, and he pulled his pelvis away from me slightly and moved his hand away from our cocks and down to cuddle my ball sack. I slid my hand across the top of his thigh and through his pubic hair to his cock. I’d never felt a cock before. It felt both hard and flexible at the same time. I slid my hand along it and to the knob, which I cupped in my hand. Clint sighed and, putting the heel of his hand under my balls, he spread his fingers to where they wrapped themselves between my legs, with the middle finger resting on the rim of my asshole. He was hunched over, licking and nibbling on my nipples. I pushed back his foreskin—he was uncircumcised—and ran my fingers around on his glans, rubbing and squeezing. He was producing precum, which I swirled around his dick head. He moaned and bit at my nipple, which caused me to moan in answer. I rubbed and stroked the length of his cock and then moved my hands to his balls and weighed and pulled at those. His middle finger had gone beyond the rim of my asshole; it has pushed its way in by a fraction of an inch.

“No, not that,” I said. “We agreed to feeling on my body, not in my body.”

“So sorry,” he answered, as he pulled the finger away. “I’m getting ahead of myself; maybe later.”

I was still contemplating this, as I felt both of his hands go to my cock. He firmly wrapped the fingers of one hand around the root of my cock, but his thumb applying pressure to the artery running into the cock, which made my dong harden right up. He wrapped the other hand around the cock, near the base and slid it up to the glans, which he played with much the same way I had played with his, and I also produced precum that helped slicken up the rubbing. Then he started stroking my cock. Slowly at first and then more rapidly, but always deeply and in a rhythm that felt both insistent and determined. I gave out little gasps and braced myself against the counter with my hands. This was a bigger high than I’d ever gotten from the ladies. Clint’s tongue went to my right armpit, and then he slowly tongued his way down and across my pecs, giving my nipples a nip en route and then up to my left armpit and down my left side to under my pecs and over to my sternum.

He stopped here, and in a low voice said, “It’s coming. It’s coming to swallow you.”

I shivered and he slowly worked his tongue down my sternum and across my abs. He stopped above the navel and whispered again. “Suck, suck, suck, I’m going to suck you dry.” His tongue went into my navel and his teeth nipped at the rim. Both of my hand went to the back of his head and ground him face into my stomach. The tongue went down, circled the lower belly, running along the pubic hair line.

“Good, look at that cock,” he whispered. “A gigantic tool. I’d love to have that rammed up my ass. Well, maybe later. Workin on the current deal now. Sucking you dry. Giving you no mercy. This is something no woman’s going to do for you.”

I was already shuddering in anticipation when he let go of my dick with his hands, and his tongue slid down the length of my cock and he licked around the rim of my glans. But then I felt his hands at my hips and he was standing and rotating my body around until I was backed up to a butcher-block topped island of a good size. With a sweep of his hand, he pushed all of the little doo-dads that had been on the top of the island off onto the floor and away from us and he lifted me and laid my back onto the island top. I heard him open a drawer and fiddle around in it, but then he reached back for me and off came my pants, my shoes and my socks and he was pushing my knees up toward my body. He had one foot in his hand and was giving it massage and his mouth was giving suck to the toes of the other foot. There wasn’t much I could say. This would have been allowed earlier in the deal. He tongued his way up my legs, first doing the calves alternately and then the thighs, keeping a grip on my feet with his hands. His tongue went briefly between my butt cheeks and across my asshole, which made me lurch and try, unsuccessfully to free my feet, but he moved right on to my balls, which he tongued, sucked, and munched until my groaning and moaning was beginning to alarm me. He released my feet and his hands went to behind my knees in a strong grip, where he held my legs, still folded into my body, but pushed a little outward. Then his mouth moved up to my dick, taking it initial in only to the rim of the glans and playing with that with his teeth and tongue, and then he started swallowing my cock slowly. I went up on my elbows and watched my dong disappear down his throat. In, in, in. The double reference, both seeing it and feeling it, was deeply pleasurable. When he had it in all the way to the root, he held it there for a moment and then he started deep-throating me. Swallow to the root and withdraw to the glans, tongue the piss hole and then slide back down all the way to the root. He kept this up until I was going wild, clutching at his head, burying my fingers in his hair. He lifted his head once to ask.

“Any of your ladies do this for you, Ben?”

“No, no, no,” I acknowledged in reply. “But, God, Clint, I think I’m going to cum.”

“Isn’t that the idea?” Clint said, and then he was back at my dick with a fury. And I did, indeed, cum, with a great spurt of relief, down Clint’s throat. I flopped back on the island top, exhausted from the tension and the great relief. I threw my arm across my face and gloried in having had so much pleasure in earning $750 in a single evening. I need never tell anyone about this, but I wouldn’t forget about it either.

But I was reveling in a false ending. Clint wasn’t finished yet. His mouth had gone straight down to my butt. He was still holding me under my knees and he pushed my legs farther out and was kissing and licking my asshole. I came back to the real world in a hurry then.

“Clint, no. This was great, but we’re at $750 and that should do me. I never intended to go this far even.”

“Do you?” Clint raised his head until our eyes met. “Precisely. I want to do you, Ben. You’re beautiful. You can’t just break it off here.”

“No, man. This is enough. I . . .”

“$250 for a fuck.”

That almost took my breath away. “Another $250? Uh, sorry, Guy, but . . .”

“What’s the problem, Ben? You’ve already been with a man now. It’s nothing new. Thousands of guys do it. And thousands of guys continue doing women too. There’s some pain, of course, especially the first couple of times. But the pleasure is beyond anything you can get from a woman. The worst that can happen to you is that you’ll never again enjoy a woman as you do a man. Listen, $150 for a prostate massage and another $200 for a fuck. That’s $350 more.”

“No, sorry . . . what’s a prostate massage?” This was probably a question I shouldn’t have asked.

“There’s nothing queer about that,” Clint responded with a tone of irritation in his voice. “Doctors do it for guys all the time, and the guys pay, and it’s all okay with everyone. They give prostate examines all the time by sticking their fingers up your ass. With a prostate massage they just leave it there for a while and get your nuts off. Don’t you know that woman aren’t the only ones with G spots. The man’s prostate is the same thing; some men build up so much sperm that they have to be milked by a doctor routinely. Massaging the prostate eases the pain from sperm buildup, and the pleasure of getting yourself off this way can be greater than a straight fuck. Come on, it’s obviously a new experience for you, one that you could get with a prescription, and it doesn’t mean you’re queer. Okay, last offer, both for an added $500.”

I gulped. “Well, the prostate thing doesn’t sound too . . .”

Before I had finished, Clint’s mouth was back on my asshole and he was kissing and tonguing the rim. I squirmed a bit when the tongue pushed slightly into the asshole.

“Gotta loosen you up down here, Ben, so that it’s all pleasure and no pain when I insert to reach the prostate. I’ll have to use some lubricant. It will help friction and will help relax you. You’re too tense, you need to relax.”

“Okay,” I said, “I’ll try.” It must have been lubricant that he’d taken out of the drawer earlier, because I felt a cold glob of jell at my asshole. Clint was spreading it around and rubbing it in with his fingers. Almost immediately I felt myself relaxing down there and loosening up. He tentatively penetrated the hole with one well-lubricated finger, and it didn’t feel so bad. He held the finger there near the entrance, waiting from the lubricant to take its full effect.

“Here,” he said. “Let’s get in a better position. He hoped up on the island top with his left butt cheek and stretched my right leg up and behind him. He was leaning on his left arm above me. His heel of his right hand nuzzled up under my balls as it had done before, when I intended never to go this far, with his middle finger draped between my legs and at the entrance of the asshole.

“Can you get your other leg out to give your ass as full an opening as possible?” he asked. And I lifted my leg and found I could dig into the island counter edge with my heel. It was a good thing I had done flexibility exercises while I was in the gym. Clint stared intently into my eyes and I locked mine on his. He was giving me a reassuring smile. I wasn’t all that reassured.

“Hands over head,” he said. And I complied, stretching my torso out. His finger inched into my hole. At first I thought it was going to hurt, but it didn’t. And when it didn’t, my whole body relaxed. Feeling that, Clint’s finger went in to the sphincter muscle, where there was an initial tightening up, but then I loosened again and it seemed that the sphincter was actually pulling the finger in until Clint could feel the hardness of my prostate. I could feel that he’d reached the goal as well, as a shiver of sensation went through my body.

“Found it,” Clint said, with a grin. “First time. I’m a pro at this. It will take some time now, but you should start feeling something new. You’ll feel like you have to piss at first and something will come out, but it will be sperm. You’ve had time to build some more up, young strapping stud that you are. Just let it flow and enjoy the ride.” I could feel the pressure of the pad of his finger on my prostate and then he started the massage part—a gentle rubbing, circular and up and down and back and forth, always with a pressure on the prostate. As he said, I began to feel like I needed to piss and I could feel precum dribbling out of my hole. But along with that came increasing waves of pleasure. Not quite the same sensation of pumping a woman with my cock, but somewhat the same—and perhaps even more pleasurable. And then I came again; this time quietly and in a soft flowing of cum rather than the usual fountain spurting. I felt weak and satisfied and fulfilled.

Clint removed his finger, took my leg out from behind his shoulder, and leaned over and sucked my cock dry. I let my other leg fall down over the side of the counter. Clint then stretched out beside me. His left hand went up to the arms I was holding above my head and he entwined both of my wrists in his. His other hand wandered around my torso, stroking and rubbing, while his face was buried in my arm pit. I began to doze. It had been a profitable night. I’d made what, nearly a thousand dollars? I couldn’t quite remember what the total was, because it was a little confusing now what the deal was. I was lost so deeply in thought that I didn’t pick up on Clint’s next move quickly enough to do anything about it. The lubricant wasn’t the only thing he’d taken out of the drawer. He suddenly had some sort of leather strapping in his right hand and he had pushed himself up and expertly lassoed my wrists that he’d been holding in his other hand and then tied the other end to some handles on the other side of the island. I was trapped then.

“Clint, what are you doing, man?”

“$500. Just keep thinking of that $500, Ben. You’re driving me crazy. I’ve got to fuck you, man. I’ve got to have my cock in you. I’ve dreamed of this for so long. I’ll keep to the agreement, but I’m doin’ you. No more coy talk. If you scream, I’ll gag you.”

“Clint, no, no. I don’t want the $500. Just what you already owe me. Let me loose.” I would have tried kicking him, but he’d already strapped off my legs to the door handles on the near side of island. He’d used long leads, though, so that my legs had full maneuverability. He just wanted me to know I wasn’t going anywhere soon with them.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ben. I want us to do this all again someday. I just have got to have you. I can be as gentle as possible. Just quiet down. He was stroking and rubbing me from belly down to dick and inside my thighs. I was beginning to calm down, when I saw the dildo in his hand. It wasn’t as long and as thick as his own dong, but it looked intimidating enough. I looked on in horror as he lathered it up with the lubricant. Clint looked at my eyes and saw the fear.

“You mean you’re lady hasn’t even done this for you? Ben, Ben, Ben, you’re going to want to switch over to the pleasure side now for sure. And don’t worry,” he added. “I’m not doing anything terrible with this. This is just to prepare you for the real thing. You definitely would feel the pain if I just went up your ass now. This will loosen and open you up.” With I felt the head of the fake cock at my hole. It went in an inch or two and Clint stopped to let me accommodate it. He rotated it around a bit to help open me up. My hole complied, and once again my sphincter muscle picked it up as it pushed farther in and pulled it on end.

“Good. At least three inches. You should feel it against the prostate again. Stud like you should be producing milk again already.” And he was right on both counts. I could feel it rubbing on the prostate, felt like pissing again, and felt the sperm start to rise. Clint’s free hand went to my cock and he rubbed the cum around my glans and slowly stroked my piece. I swallowed hard as I felt the dildo slide in farther than Clint has penetrated with his finger.

“Four. No, now five inches. Very good, buddy.” I was panting and felt like I had to take a shit.

“Six inches.” My intestines were trying to reject the foreign object. Short pants. Clint stroked my chest and belly, calming me down. The lubricant was taking greater effect. The spasms in my colon died down.

“Seven inches.” That’s as big as this is. I’m afraid I’m a little bigger, but this is the best I can do for you. Needs to be wider too, though.” And I felt him start to rotate the dildo around in my hole. It had a curve to it just as Clint’s did, and I could feel the head massaging my colon walls as it rotated. The pain, pressure, and feeling of being stuffed began to subside, and Clint could feel me relax. He slow pulled it out in a screwing motion.

“Brings a whole new meaning to screwing,” doesn’t it, he said. Then the dildo was out, and Clint’s hand was off my lower belly. He stood back from me, and then I saw him open a packet and rolling a condom onto his stiff prick. There was no doubt where this was leading. Then Clint stepped back up to and his hands were on both of my hips, pulling my butt down and over the edge of the island. He had kicked over a small stool and there he was hovering over me.

“No, Clint, no,” I said weakly, all my defenses gone. But he wasn’t listening to me. He took my right leg in his left hand on the calf and lifted and spread it. With his right hand, he positioned his dick head at my asshole. I felt him push in to the rim of the glans with a grunt. The dildo was a piece of cake compared to this. I was panting again and was bucking my pelvis trying to force him out. But that had the opposite effect. He just leaned into me and my bucking drew the huge tool inward, in to the sphincter muscle, which grabbed it and through his dick head right up against the prostrate. Sensing he was here, Clint rubbed his dick in and out ever so slightly, giving friction to my now-well-exercised prostate muscle.

“Found it again, didn’t I?” he said with a big smile. I just groaned and turned my head. “God, I’m good,” he said, “And you, Ben. You are one fine piece of ass.” His dick well in now, he grabbed my other leg at the calf with his right hand and split me up and out as far as I would go. Then he walked another two inches into me. I shuddered, trying to make some sort of escape move, but not having any leverage.

“Please, please, Clint. You’re splitting me apart.”

“Gosh, I’m not even in as far as the dildo went, Ben. Although I guess I am a lot thicker.” And he was, and I was feeling completely stuffed, and my colon was spasming again and he kept on coming.

“There, that’s got to be the seven and a half. Oh, I love what your channel is doing. Oh, Gawd. There, Ben, You’ve done it. I’m up to the root.”

Great I thought. Now it’s about over. But, of course, it wasn’t. He started to slowly pump me. At first all work with deep purchase, to get my canal to open to him as much as possible, and then longer strokes.

“There, we’re all open and comfortable,” he said cheerfully. Speak for yourself, I thought, but, indeed, he was all in and I was open to him, not feeling much pain and feeling at least a bit of pleasure.

“Next position,” Clint said, as he pulled his dick out of me in one slide, pushed me up on the island counter and came up on the counter on his knees. Next position! What did that mean? He slid in under my thighs with his knees, sliding his dick head right up to my hole. Then, wrapping his hands around my sides, he pulled me toward him, his cock sliding into me as I was pulled toward him. I moaned. This was a tighter position. I threw my legs out as far as I could, opening as far as I could, but when he was in to the root, he gathered in my legs between his elbows. Closing my channel tightly around his pulsating cock. I thought he’d cum then and this would be over.

“Think I’m going to cum, don’t you, Ben? Nope. I’m a master at that too.” He held very still with his cock, fighting the need to shoot off. His hands went back to my hips and then ran over my belly and abs and down to my cock. I jerked my pelvis, trying to make him cum. He laughed and squeezed both of my butt cheeks with his hands.

“Nice try, Ben. But I do have marvelous control. Nice buns, by the way. Very, very nice.” He held us there in that position for a moment, while the tension drained out of us both. When he was ready, he reached over and got a towel off the counter top and worked it under my back.

“Sweaty job isn’t this, Ben. Here this will help you slide without catching.” Slide?!

He wrapped his strong hands around my hips, and I watched the knotting and rolling of the arteries bulging on the muscles of his arms and pecs as he slid me back and forth, using me to pump myself. Again he stayed mostly buried deep so as not to lose purchase, but that left a good five inches of length he could use to pump me. He started slowly and then built and I was surprised that when he approached the point of no return this time he kept on going, his strokes getting closer together and his torso gyrating wildly. I watched in near fascination and a combination of pain and pleasure, as he threw his head back in triumph and screamed at the ceiling. I felt the cum ballooning up the head of his condom in waves of strong ejaculation. I had to admit that wasn’t so bad. He just held himself there still for several minutes, his head thrown back.

“That was amazing,” he cried, as he brought his head back up and looked down at me with great affection. “There, that was worth $300.”

“$300” I responded indignantly. “You said $500.”

“You’ve still got to work the other $200 off,” he said with a grin. “I didn’t say anything about how often I could cum for my money.” he turned me on my left side then and strung himself along my body, and I thought he’d withdraw his cock which still was far up my ass even when tumescent. But he didn’t. He stayed in me, folding my right leg up toward my body to help keep me open to him. He had his left arm under and wrapped around me, with his hand spread out on my belly. He buried his right hand in the hair and across the nipple of my left pecs and buried his face into the back of my neck and dozed. My panting and twitching slowly subsided until I slept.

The next thing I knew, Clint was biting my neck, had his left hand down and encasing the root of my cock, had my right leg lifted up in the air with his other hand, and somehow had his pelvis in motion and his dick moving in my ass canal.

“Arch your belly out and your ass back toward me,” he commanded as I struggled for wakefulness and breath. I did as he commanded, and his re-hardened dick slid four inches farther up in me. How long had we slept, I wondered. He certainly reloaded fast for a man his age.

“This is called side splitting, in case you wondered,” he said. “Useful information given for free here.” Good name for it, I thought as I grunted through the new sensation. A few minutes of stroking like this, and then he surprised me again. Taking his left hand from under me, he reached up and somehow released my aching arms, and almost in the same movement, he released my right leg and pulled me up on his lap so that I was sitting in his lap, his dong about as far up me as it had ever been. We were sitting on the edge of the island, and both of us could reach the stool with our feet. He folded me tightly to him with one arm under my pecs and the other one just above my hips. He kissed and nuzzled the hollow of my neck.

“Got another of those $20 kisses for me?” He asked. I was too weary to demure. I turned my face to his and we went into a deep kiss. His hand went back to my cock and he stroked me, at first slowly and then he started beating me off with his hand. He broke from the kiss long enough to say, “I think we skipped this part earlier,” and then he spent another $20 by reengaging in the kiss.

I squirmed on his lap under the insistent jacking of his hand, which made me bounce around on his embedded cock, giving me added pain and pleasure. I broke away from the kiss and begged him to slow down, which he did until we went into the kiss again and then he returned to the furious beating, beating, beating, until I had cum in three spasms of jizzim across his kitchen floor. He released me with his arms and I fell forward.

“Right idea,” he said. “But arch your back toward me and rock back and forth. I did so, and felt the curve of his cock move the knob of his cock with that sack of spilled semen to the wall of my colon. I felt pleasure at that, but he felt more pleasure, and I could feel him twitching and moaning as I rocked back and forth. After a few minutes of this, he changed the command. “Lean forward, go up on your feet and grab your ankles.”

I did as he commanded and his dick slid out of me. I had no illusion this was a signal of my freedom, however. I was now so open to him that he could do as he would and I’d feel no pain. He sensed this, because now he could move freely in me. He stood up on the stool behind me, grabbed my hips, slid right into, and pushed me back and forth, exiting wholly at each forward swing and then in up to the hilt with each swing back. He was huffing and puffing at this point. He stopped this motion after a while; let loose of one of my hips and, grabbing his cock rotated it around at several levels in me. Like the earlier movement, this brought his piss hole against the side of my channel and caused him to sigh and moan. After some of this, he sat back down on the edge of the island, extracted his dick and told me to turn around facing him.

I did, and he spent another $20 on a deep kiss. His hand went under my buttocks and, instructing me to wrap my legs around him; he leaned back and brought me into his lap, once again skewering my ass with his still very hard cock. Down, down I descended on his pole until I was sitting in his lap. He put his arms around me and drew me in. Then, with my hands on his chest, he moved his hands to my butt cheeks and rotated me around on his dick for a while. He was giving short pants again and had to stop for a few minutes, hold us both very still. The he told me to slowly arch my torso back. I did so, with him holding me at the side with his thumbs under my pecs.

Then he rocked me back and forth until he start to give short pants again. Again he held us in position until his urge to cum had passed. When he was in full control again, he told me to arch all the way back and grab for the floor as he stood. I did so and he stood on the stool, holding my hips firmly in his strong hands. I had my hand palms out flat on the floor, wondering what came next. My legs were still wrapped around his back.

“Legs on my shoulders,” he commanded. One after the next, I swung my legs up on his shoulders so that I was supporting most of my weight on my hands, although he still had a grip on my hips. His head was in the air and mine was down toward the floor, my back was to his front, and his dong was plunged straight down in my ass, with the curve bringing his dick head up against my ass canal again. Slowly he brought his hand up until he had his hands under my knees. And then he split my legs out to the side again. All of my weight was on hands now.

“I know you are in great shape, he said, because I helped you get there. Now, for that last $100, do reverse pushups and, in the process, use my tool to fuck yourself. Do it until I cum and that will be the last of it. I figure, with a bonus that you will have earned $1,500. Now do it.”

And I found that I could. I raised and lowered my body along his and stroked his cock with my ass canal until he shot off his wad once again inside me. With a shudder, he sat back down on the edge of the island, but in the process spun me around so that my back was to his front again, and we both just flopped back onto the countertop, me on top of him, my legs encasing his, his hands gripping mine and flinging our arms up and out, and his dong still up my ass, but receding into tumescence.

Then Clint slept. And when I could tell from his breathing that he was in deep sleep, I gingerly extracted myself from him and got off of the island. I was sore and felt like I was floating up to my eyeballs in sperm. But I had to admit that Clint was right about everything. This had been an incredible sexual experience, one that I had never come anywhere close to experiencing with a woman. I was glad I’d had this experience, even without the big bucks that came with it and in spite of Clint’s bullying. I stood there and watch that beautiful, wiry body in repose. Clint turned onto his side in his sleep. He had said he wanted me to fuck him to, but he hadn’t made that demand. I could show him that our relationship didn’t have to be all about money.

I stood for a few minutes, thinking of that. I saw that there were still unopened condom packets on the counter, so I stroked myself down until I was hard again, and opened a packet and rolled a condom onto my dong. I reached over for the lubricant and took a dab into my hands. Then I came over to the island and climbed up on the stool. I ran my well-lubricated right hand up through his butt crack to his anus. I gently wrapped my left hand around his cock, which began to rise again under my gentle teasing and stroking. When I reached his asshole, I found that his opening was large. I gently lathered him up and inserted a finger in search of his prostate. He obviously thought he was having good sex in his dreams, because he sighed and moaned, but didn’t awaken.

But he did slowly wake up as I found his prostate and he began to grunt with pleasure and produce precum, which I rubbed into his cock. He dreamily looked down at me, and cooperated and made no sign of protest as I turned him on his stomach and pulled him down toward me. His legs came over the edge and then his butt. I positioned myself on the stool, took my cock in my hand, and rubbed and slapped it gently on his butt cheeks and against his crack, making it get harder. I slid it into his butt crack and pushed it up and down, through the crack, which he must have enjoyed, because he sighed and moaned quietly. He reached back and pulled apart his butt cheeks with his hands.

“Do me, do me now,” he whispered. “Put it all in me, straight up to the root. Now, now.”

I positioned my dickhead at his hole and smoothly slid into him up to the root in one stroke. His channel was wide and he had no trouble taking me in. I plowed him for several minutes, and then reached over and took the dildo he had used on me. Pushing my dick to the bottom of his channel, I started working the dildo in on top of it. Clint took much interest in this, and produced much grunting and groaning as I double fucked him. When I had done and shot off my load, I rolled the condom back off my penis, cleaned myself up with a paper towel and water from the sink, and perched up on the edge of counter. Clint sat up then and, turning toward me, gave me another long, lingering kiss.

“And what had we agreed you’d be paid for fucking me?” he asked with a quizzical smile.

“Nothing that I know of,” I replied. “That was a freebee. It was a symbol that it isn’t all about money, and it’s a gesture of appreciation for this evening and for making it possible for me to have my beach vacation.”

“We can’t have that,” Clint said. “I wouldn’t want to get a freebee. For that magnificent double screwing, I’ll drive you to the beach myself. But we’ll take three days to get there. Three afternoons driving and two evenings and mornings screwing in a nice hotel room. I think I still have some arguments to show you on why men can give you much better sex than women can.”


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146 Gay Erotic Stories from Habu

Angled Entries 1: Big Balling

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

Angled Entries: Painted Laddie

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

Angled Entries: Hard Decisions

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

At the Reservoir

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

Azores Assignation

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

Back Where . . .

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

Beautiful Bondage

I had been told that the assignment was a bit kinky, but a weekend stopover in Hawaii and three days on my own in Tokyo, paid for by the generous fee addition, were enough for me not to care. My pimp, Leon, told me to make myself blond all over, which I had grown used to in any assignment sending me to the Orient. And I was a bit intrigued because I was told up front that the client was Matsu

Being Fussy

I was going back from throwing some hoops with the guys one afternoon when I decided to drop in on Charlie and see how he was doing. He was a little high strung and had been having trouble with his latest live in of late. Denny was a real cocky asshole, so sure of himself and going directly for what he wanted—and usually getting it—and taking advantage of everyone along the way. And he was messy.

Bermuda Triangle

“A candidate for the Bermuda Triangle, might you say?” Dean said to Penn across the cocktail table. They were sitting at a window of the Splendor Lounge on the Champion of the Sea mega tourist ship on the first full night of its sail from Baltimore to Bermuda.The two, both members of the ship’s dance troupe were looking over a thirtiesh blond, well-formed, and obviously well-heeled hunk

Beyond the Beaded Curtain

I had been holding up the bar in the smoky lounge for more than a half hour, and Nick hadn’t shown. Felt pretty sorry for myself. That had been my story with my encounters with Nick: fuck ’em and leave ’em. I didn’t really want to play that game anymore, but here I sat, waiting for Nick. I had waved off several guys in obvious search of a pickup when the mystery man appeared at my elbow. As time

Biloxi Renewal

\Ham couldn’t sleep, and he thought he heard a noise from downstairs. Probably only one of the many ghosts haunting this old, rotting mansion, he thought. But, still, he was fully awake now. He rose off the cot he’d set up in his room until after everything was packed out and padded down the stairs into the music room. He was barefoot, only wearing his muslin sleeper pants. In twenty-four hours

Bite of the Schlange

Jacques, the young comte de la Arbois, nearly fell off his horse, both steed and rider trembling from exhaustion, into the arms of the innkeeper of the small village of Saint-Avold, a hard half-day's ride west of Metz. "A fresh horse," Jacques muttered feverishly through swollen lips. "We have such a horse for you," the innkeeper exclaimed. "But you are in no condition to ride on, young

Cast Party

I could not have been in any steamier place or time for my sexual awakening. Bangkok, Thailand, in the eighties was sin city extraordinaire. Anything went there; everything was tolerated. It was a mai bin rai (“nevermind; whatever, it’s OK”) place and everything was not only tolerated, but it also was on offer—and almost always for free or at a very good price. And it was an innocent time. The

Chain Gang Banged

I was only in for thirty days, and then not because of something I’d actually done. My buddy Phil had left drugs in my car, and the cops found them when they stopped me because I was driving a little too fast when I pulled away from a country beer hall they were staking out. I should have known better. I was only nineteen, and I shouldn’t have been in that beer hall at all, let alone drinking.

Chain Gang Banged

I was only in for thirty days, and then not because of something I’d actually done. My buddy Phil had left drugs in my car, and the cops found them when they stopped me because I was driving a little too fast when I pulled away from a country beer hall they were staking out. I should have known better. I was only nineteen, and I shouldn’t have been in that beer hall at all, let alone drinking.

Chaz's Choice

“Are you sure? You don’t have to go through with this.”But, who was I kidding. Julio’s choices had been shut down that first night—the night I’d found him supposedly by chance, but with chance having nothing to do about it. He’d been had even before I approached him at the Noobai Café, the discreet little gay hookup bar in the Restele district of Lisbon, not far from the Cuban consulate.

Cockpitting

After two years in the male-male paradise of Bangkok, a short assignment to Okinawa, Japan, seemed, for most of my tour, like entering a monastery. I was supposed to rotate directly back to the States with my SR71 supersonic photoreconnaissance unit, but the North Koreans were acting up on the DMZ, and the government wanted an intense look-see at whether or not they were building their troop

Congo Drums

The riverboat hit a log, or something, on the hull right at my head, and I woke with a start. The first sensation in the soft, wavering light of a single lantern hung by the doorway was the sound of the drums and low chanting from somewhere above. The driver and cook at it again. The sound was monotonous and comforting all at the same time. It also seemed to be richer than before, almost

Creamy Thighs

Tight, hard and hairless bodies with creamy thighs, resilient flesh on muscles of steel; and flexibility; flexibility is a must. I insist on that; and obedience and total subservience. And I possess them all. I fuck them all, women and men alike. I fuck them all regularly, without showing favor. That’s the only way to keep order. And they stand in line, audition for the privilege of being

Dagger Through the Moon

I am Darien, magician to the D’Ibelins; son of Jared, magician to the D’Ibelins before me; and grandson of Deter, magician to the kings of the Aquitaine. Can anyone deny my powers after the Horns of Hattin? But, no, no one but me knows of what really happened there in miracle of the stronghold of Belvoir. And that, perhaps, is as it should be. But as I glide across the sky, I look at that brand

Dangerous Experiment

[Author’s Note: When the Philippe LeCroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation,” “Natchez Refreshment.” “Biloxi Renewal,” “Reconnected Recovery,” “Theatrical Revival,” “Sailing Back into Life,” “Harvesting in the Park,” “Garden District Plunge,” “Dangerous Experiment,” “Dueling Regeneration”] Philippe had just been renewed, and he was

Deal Closer, Part 1

As we strapped ourselves in across from each other, knee to knee in the sleek corporate jet, I was wondering why CJ had picked me to fly out to the coast to try to close this business deal. I was pretty new to the company and no where near to having the seniority to be included on this trip. But I wasn’t complaining. A week in California and time to get to know the vice president of sales better

Deal Closer, Part 2

We got into L.A. that night and CJ and I went straight to the hotel. I was exhausted after my in-flight service training. CJ had booked a suite with two separate bedrooms, so I went to my room after dinner, showered, and went straight to bed. I was laying there on the wide bed, on my back, staring at the ceiling and just about asleep, when CJ crept into the room, came up on the bed and sat on my

Deal Closer, Part 3

When I had cleaned up and returned, I found that CJ had wiped himself off with a washcloth that Binggum had conveniently previously located in a bowl on the coffee table and was stuffing and buttoning his sausage back into his red-silk pouch. Binggum was stretched out on full the sofa, another wash cloth lying near him on the floor, probably used with a gentle touch by CJ in the most

Director's Couch

I often did things backwards in life. The old Hollywood adage goes that many a starlet—and we can add many a leading man, now that the cat is out of the closet on that—got their film career break by the audition they did on the director's or producer's couch. In my case, however, I got the part before the director had me taking direction under him on his couch. I had been a child actor on

Do You Trust Me?

Angelo had been so tense through his set at the café this evening, that he was afraid that it could be heard in his voice or in a change in how he coaxed the music out of the strings of his guitar. But those sitting around a smoking and drinking long after the food service had been shut down didn’t seem to have reacted any differently than before, with just those exceptions. Although all of the

Doubling Bets

(Suckered into betting against the double penetration myth) I should have known the sneaky Dutchman had all the angles figured when he suckered us into betting against a myth in the Men Only back room at Cowboy's Bar in Bangkok's Patpong district. He waited until the third revolution of the happy hour clock—when we were all soused and sluggish—and entered with a boy-built Thai. I recognized

Dueling Regeneration

[Author’s Note: This story completes the Philippe LeCroix series, which is best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation,” “Natchez Refreshment.” “Biloxi Renewal,” “Reconnected Recovery,” “Theatrical Revival,” “Sailing Back into Life,” “Harvesting in the Park,” “Garden District Plunge,” “Dangerous Experiment,” “Dueling Regeneration”] Philippe LeCroix, with his new chauffeur,

Egyptian Ram

I was nearing the end of the fourth group lesson on self-defense techniques at the store-front gym under the instruction of a heavily muscled Egyptian wrestler named Anwar, when he took me aside and, after telling me he thought I’d make a natural wrestler, asked me if I’d like to stay after class and have him demonstrate some holds to me. I had admired his massive build—a bodybuilder’s barrel

Eight- and Nine-Inch Drills

Ad placed by Andre (9 slender inches) and Mike (8 thick inches) in the local weekly newspaper: - - - - Power Drills: GBM’s, Strong, hard, silent eight- and nine-inch power drills seek tight BWM or SWM who seeks filled fantasy experience for multiple drill role play says-no-but-wants-yes bottom. Call Mike at 945-6036. - - - - Ad Rob saw instead in the local weekly newspaper and decided

Elementary, Snidely

“But I don’t understand how you can just stand here, out on this beach, and declare that Jason Dunn has run away with his college football offensive team coach and lost his virginity, Doctor Klein. The Dunn’s paid us to find their son, and I very much doubt they will be amused with the elaborate and very offensive story you’ve come up with by way of explanation.” “It’s elementary, Snidely. And

Elusive

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

Emmet

We live in a university town, my wife and I, and we live in a neighborhood within five blocks of the edge of that university. It’s an affluent neighborhood, built on heavily wooded, well-manicured lots on the side of a ridge, with narrow streets running up and down and twisting here and there. Almost like the country, but a wealthy enclave right in the small city. Quite staid we are. Not ones for

Enticingly Unnaked

“How about I treat you to a drink? You must be thirsty from all that naked time on the platform.”I had just climbed down from the velvet-covered bench on the platform where I’d been posing, in the nude, for the past hour for Chad Simmons’s Savannah College of Art and Design night school art class. I’d barely had time to shrug my white cotton dress shirt over my shoulders. That didn’t stop the

Ernestine

I’m not sure why I went to Club 216 that night. I’d joined months before but had gone only rarely. Joining put me on their e-mail list, though, and I kept seeing announcements go by of their semiannual beauty contest. It didn’t pay much attention to it—or at least I didn’t think I had—but that Saturday night found me there, just a couple of table rows away from the stage. I was by myself at the

Ethiopian Cabin Boy

When I left Bangkok, Thailand, the first time, I originally thought I'd be returning to a world that was almost completely straight and that my days of enjoying a rich and active bi lifestyle were over. My work with the government, with its strong homophobic policies, just didn't seem to leave that avenue safely open to me. And for a couple of years, when I was assigned to Washington, D.C., and

Family Day on the Pool Table

I had always thought that about the only thing you could do on a pool table was play pool, but the Taylor brothers went to great length and depth to teach me otherwise. I’d met the three brothers on the beach at Pataya, Thailand. Their family owned a hotel construction company and was making money hand over fist in throwing up fancy hotels in downtown Bangkok and at the Pataya and Hua Hin

First Threesome

My first, memorable threesome was in that fancy gym in Bangkok where I had recently met who I called my Indian magician, who had seduced and initiated me. And the threesome was orchestrated by that Indian diplomat as well. He had been eyeing a military attaché from the Israeli embassy on the exercise floor—a man pushing his forties, built close to the ground but with long arms, almost simian in

Firsts With An Indian Magician

My first time for a lot of things came within a three-week period. I was a young Air Force pilot, living in Bangkok, Thailand, and flying the SR71 photoreconnaissance airplane. I was as virginal as they came before arriving in Bangkok. Sports through school and Air Force training and heavy workouts pretty much had taken all of my time and energy. I was about as Mom, apple pie, and country first

Friday Nights with Lenny

I stepped back from the sidewalk, hugging my arms close to my sides, and leaned back on the wall at the corner into the alley, raising one leg, knee bent, and my cowboy booted foot flat against the wall. The hole in the sole of that boot was worn clean through and the cold of the wall wasn’t as cold as that of the sidewalk pavement. Besides, it was a good pose for the purpose. While still

Garden District Plunge

[Author’s Note: When the Philippe LeCroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation,” “Natchez Refreshment,” “Biloxi Renewal,” “Reconnected Recovery,” “Theatrical Revival,” “Sailing Back into Life,” “Harvesting in the Park,” “Garden District Plunge,” “Dangerous Experiment,” “Dueling Regeneration”] Philippe watched them from the shadows in

Getting . . . Educated, Conclusion

The next day was my next tennis date with Ben. As I had thought and hoped for, after we’d played and I’d beaten him for the first time, I learned that he was in bad condition again and needed help. We both took showers, and he started back for the massage room, but I stopped him, telling him I had found a better place for him to get relief. We hurriedly both put gym shorts and T-shirts on, and I

Getting . . . Educated, Part 1

It was the first month of my graduate school, and it was my turn for the “introductory” evening with my Logic professor, Paul Hollings. When I’d asked someone who’d taken his class the previous year what the proper attire for such an event was, he had just given me a lopsided grin and said, “For a handsome guy like you? I’d suggest very bulky clothes.” He hadn’t elaborated, but I probably

Getting . . . Educated, Part 10

Although I had several white bandana encounters that week in which all a stranger needed to do to get submissive sex from me was to ask for my bandana, none were as strange as the one I had while I was on my way to play tennis with Ben the first time. I was strolling along, racket case under my arm, when a big black limousine, with smoked windows rolled up beside me, the driver’s window rolled

Getting . . . Educated, Part 12

My next team punch event day was more memorable for being the day of the double massage than for my losing a wrestling match and getting fucked. I lost the match, of course. This time to Greg, who was perverse enough to make me swing both my arms and legs over the parallel bars and then got on a bench under me and fucked me first from the front, my ass tipped up and then from the back, my ass

Getting . . . Educated, Part 13

I still felt better about the possibilities of taking control the next evening, which may be why I took that ticket the doped up rocker had given me and attended his concert. His band really was quite good. He had a large crowd in the university’s soccer stadium and it was even filmed for national sale as a video. The rocker who had fucked me had a great, raspy, character-laden voice and he

Getting . . . Educated, Part 14

At my next tennis match with Ben, he allowed as how he wasn’t in nearly the same painfully hard condition that he had been when we’d done the prostate procedure, but he did show a bit too much eagerness to repeat the massage that day if I thought it was advisable. I wanted him at full staff for presentation to the coach, so I asked him if he could hold off until our next practice match, to which

Getting . . . Educated, Part 15

Coach Seeman had told all of the wrestlers that they could come over and use his swimming pool at any time, and I was so sore and strung out later that afternoon that I took him up on the offer. I knew there was a wrestling meet during that time and figured that Seeman and the real wrestlers would be busy with that and that I’d have the pool to myself. I did, in fact, have the pool to myself

Getting . . . Educated, Part 2

I trudged back to the dorm from having been raped by my Logic professor, feeling very down and very sore, hoping that no one would ever learn about my humiliation; angry at the professor, not knowing how I was going to be able to sit in his class in front of him now. Worried about whether and what demands he might make on me for the rest of the semester. I wasn’t that way. I didn’t want to be

Getting . . . Educated, Part 3

I had been sexually assaulted by three men within my first week at school. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. I let it go for several days and then, when I was on my way to throw some hoops at the gym, I just snapped and found myself seeking out the dean of men students. I didn’t know if I could get a walk-in appointment with him, but I felt like I needed to talk to someone about

Getting . . . Educated, Part 4

It had been three days since I had been raped four times within two days, and I was hiding out. I had taken a by-week apartment made over from a motel not too far from the campus, dropped the logic class, and kept as low a profile as I could. I’d found the former motel too noisy to study in, so I was camped out in a small overgrown park nearby, where I was studying on an old picnic table. I

Getting . . . Educated, Part 5

I’d had enough of these repeated sexual assaults; being used like this. The next day, I packed my car and headed for home. No more than three miles beyond the campus gate, though, I heard a police siren and was pulled over to the side of the road. I sat in the car, wondering what I had done wrong, as a policeman strutted around and took a look at both license plates, all the time swishing a

Getting . . . Educated, Part 6

Coach Seeman delivered me to Nate’s door, ravished and still in handcuffs, which had been moved so that my arms were in front of me, and with my jeans barely covering me. When Nate answered the door, he was wearing only his briefs. As the dorm counselor, he had an actual one-bedroom apartment, including separate bedroom, a kitchenette, and a bath—which made me wonder why he showered in the common

Getting . . . Educated, Part 7

I stayed with Nate for the next two weeks, taking in my regular classes in the afternoon and spending most of the mornings learning the fundamentals of wrestling from Nate and Greg in a small room off the main wrestling gym while the coach’s regular “Greek Wrestling” class went on in the main wrestling gym. I thought I was getting the hang of it until I was called in for what coach termed one of

Getting . . . Educated, Part 8

Later that afternoon I got my first glimpse of my possible ticket out of this “team punch” hell. I went to class and the professor, who was also my faculty advisor, asked me to come see her in her office after her next class. When I appeared there, she wasn’t alone. A young student was sitting and chatting with her. I took to him immediately. He was perhaps the most handsome youth I’d ever seen;

Getting . . . Educated, Part 9

My next team punch event defeat wasn’t too taxing. I was getting steeled to these attacks on my body. The winner was one of those lean, mean Marines, without an ounce of fat on a very efficient body and a shaved haircut. Not much to brag about in the below-the-belt category, which probably is why I’d seen him hang out with one of the bantam-weight wrestlers, a willowy, but obviously strong,

Getting. . . Educated, Part 11

The exhaustion of and loss of strength from the previous day’s unexpected sex encounters may have accounted for my tennis match the next day, but it’s just as likely that Ben was just a much better tennis player than I was. He agreed to let me try to recoup the loss and set up another match for two days hence. As I had hoped, we were the only ones in the graduate gym shower room when we went in

Gotta Keep This Job

I had been summoned to the medical suite at my office at the end of the Friday dayshift of my second week on the job, and I showed up with a great sense of trepidation. It had been hard finding this job, and I just had to keep it. But I’d scored drugs for a short time when I’d been in college, and I knew this company had a strict drug policy. I hoped that they hadn’t found out about that—or that

Handed On

“I really do worry about you. When did you eat last?”“Please, please, don’t stop,” Marc whimpered between pants. “Finish me, please. Don’t make me wait.”“Now you want it,” the dance master laughed. “We’ll see how badly you want it.”The two young men were lying on a pile of old costumes in the dark corner of the back of the stage behind the wings. The dance master, Patrick Moran, only

Harmony and Dissonance

“Are you sure this is the address?” Lars Krieger asked, as the hotel car stopped in front of a massive, carved-wood, two-panel door in an otherwise blank concrete wall on Bangkok’s Soi 51 Sukhumvit. The road was narrow, almost an alley, it seemed, to the young German engineer, with one, long stuccoed wall running down its full length on each side with doors like this and wider garage doors at

Harvesting In The Park

[Author’s Note: When the Philippe LeCroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation” “Natchez Refreshment” “Biloxi Renewal” “Reconnected Recovery” “Theatrical Revival” “Sailing Back into Life” “Harvesting in the Park” “Garden District Plunge” “Dangerous Experiment” “Dueling Regeneration”] Philippe had found this one particularly

Highballing

If the CEO of my company hadn’t seen me recently in that gay bar over on 12th and Madison, I don’t know how long it would have taken me to get invited to the executive floor. But Pete Peterson had seen me, and there I was, in his conference room, sitting in a second-row position in the weekly executive meeting. I’d been surprised, but pleasantly so, to see Peterson in the bar. He was one of

Iced

If I didn’t get a good fuck in before tomorrow evening, Tonya and I would be out of the medals for sure. We’d come to the Paris Grand Prix with good hopes of standing on the platform, but my timing was all off in the twists and throws we’d attempted in our practice session tonight, and I knew it was because I was so jittery from not getting my rocks off since we’d been at Skate Canada a couple of

Iced Flip Side

I had had my eye on Aleksey since the skating season began. He was the new partner for Tonya in the ice pairs division, and he was sheer sex on ice. He was all dark, brooding good looks; muscle and power and with curly black hair on his arms and legs and swirling around his pecs and diving in a wide path down into his leotard. He wore his jet black hair long, in a pony tail, with a few strands

Into the Dark

Momma, please. I won’t talk back anymore. Let me out of the closet, Momma. Or turn on a light. You know how scared I am of the dark. Don’t leave me here in the dark, Momma. Please. Please Momma. Momma? Momma?* * * *Brandon leaned over the low, padded cubicle wall and winked at Colleen and told her she was looking mighty fine today. Then, as he turned and moved down the corridor between

Israeli Assault

I'll always remember the Israeli by the image of him standing there at the window of the Oriental Hotel room, the strong Bangkok sun bathing his body in afternoon light—that and by the cockiness with which he took control. The Israeli army officer, a military attaché at his country's embassy in Thailand, had just two weeks earlier been part of my first threesome. He had seen me working out in

Joggered

“Open to me. Open to daddy.” And I spread my legs for him. Before he pushed me back gently onto the thick carpet on the moss covering the little sun-spackled glen, he had me kneel before him and take his beautiful, huge cock into my mouth, where I worked it up to over ten inches of hardness to the sounds of the birds twittering in the trees and the jogger emitting little sighs and moans of

Kasem's Kitchen

If the kitchen of Kasem’s family in the upcountry jungle of Thailand hadn’t burnt to the ground, I possibly never would have found out what the special Bangkok sports massage was all about. Kasem was my masseur at a fancy Bangkok gym, which was open for “men only” a couple of nights a week and which was a major pickup place for prime cuts of male meat. Of course, when I’d started going to the

Last Rodeo

Lattimore stopped at corner of the cookhouse as he was crossing from the main house of his ranch outside Laramie, Wyoming, to the corral to train the quarter horse he’d bought on the last cattle drive to Omaha. He leaned on a fence and watched young Kit chopping wood. The young man was stripped to the waist while he chopped.Bulking up real good, Lattimore thought. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad

Late Night Workout

I had been going to Gabe and Steve’s Gym for a couple of months, and I was quite pleased with the results. I could tell that Gabe and Steve were pleased too, as they’d both been giving me the eye when I was in the shower. I didn’t mind all that much; it was a free world and looks didn’t cost me anything—or so I thought at the time. I knew that Gabe and Steve were a couple, but that didn’t mean

Legend of Cowboy

All sorts of expatriate “characters” gravitated to Bangkok, Thailand, in the seventies and eighties, and none were more colorful than the man known simply as Cowboy. Cowboy was a six-and-a-half foot black American stud, who was said to have been a pro basketball player of some note who had retreated to Bangkok in the face of possible charges for point shaving and racketeering. In Bangkok, Cowboy

Like Father Like Son

As I walked into the city on the main street, Damrak, leading directly from Amsterdam's central train station, I nervously fingered the folded e-mail I'd been carrying tucked in my wallet for the past month and a half. Damrak changed into Rokin, and at the end of canal off the Amstel River, I made a right onto Heiligeweg. I had thought of this possibility on and off for the whole cruise down

Locker Room Revelation

It wasn’t a regular day of practice; only Hank and I had come in, and we’d worked out in the gym after we’d done laps on the field. I could tell he was steamed about something, but I didn’t ask about what. He had finished first, and it looked like I had the locker room to myself when I came in from the gym. I took a quick shower and pulled on my briefs and some baggy shorts and an athletic T, and

Loving Wife

“What’s for dinner? Lamb chops, I hope. You do those so well.”“Of course, if that’s what you want, Ely. If that’s what you want, than that’s what we’ll have.”He’s got no taste buds left, I think. What does he care if it’s lamb, pork, or shit? Note to self—while I try to keep my voice from having the sarcastic edge Ely had complained about of late. Of course we don’t have any lamb chops in

Master of the Boardroom

The reports of the week were winding down, and I looked around the table, only half conscious of what was being reported. The three older guys at the table would take care of all that for me. I was sizing up all of the young and beautiful people I’d stocked the board with. The power to do this was the joy of heading a robust family business; I could stock the board with the pick of the crop, and

Mentoring

Is this the very café table where we sat? Yes, I think it is. In fact, I’m sure it is. It’s as if time has stood still. The café is just as it was nearly thirty years ago—or at least I don’t remember anything as different. It’s hard to believe that as much as London has changed over the last twenty years, Norwich might not have changed at all. Or so it seems. And so I want it to be. I don’t want

Nailed By Obsession

He had become obsessed with me. The party was large and boisterous and our eyes had met across the room and he gave me a brilliant smile. A short time later, he’d sat down beside me with people swirling all around us and had put his hand on my thigh and had given me that brilliant smile again. I tipped my glass to show I needed a refill and glided away from him, not wanting to make a scene. Not

Natchez Refreshment

The cyclist was racing along the top of the Mississippi levee, anxious to get back into Natchez before the rains hit. Sweating profusely in the humidity and under the blazing sun, he had stripped his jersey off and wrapped it around the handlebars of the bike. It was almost dusk now, however, and the storm clouds were rumbling in. He felt chilled and tried to free the jersey from the handlebars

Naval Dilemma

Dutch came first. It was a particularly busy and boisterous night in the Dick Hut, tucked in the back shadows of an alley off the Nuuanu Stream in the heart of Honolulu's red light district. The sign over the door actually said

Neighbor's Hot Tub

My wife was off to see her mother, and for the first time since he’d gotten it, my neighbor, Marty, had invited me for an evening in the hot tub he had put in. His house backed onto my side yard, and he’d done a whole lot of nice renovation on his property since he had moved in. Marty was divorced and probably was in his early fifties, judging from his graying hair, but he had kept himself quite

New Master at Riverbend

Jerome stood just inside the doorway at the shadowed end of the room. He should have just turned and gone down the stairs and out to the carriage to tell Thomas that Master John wasn’t ready to go yet. That’s all Thomas, Master John’s carriage driver, had told him to do. But the shock of what he’d found when he’d entered the house on Decatur Street and been waved to the second door down the hall

New Orleans Rejuvenation

I was there for three nights in the basement strip club on Dauphine Street in the French Quarter, always sitting at the same table. I had picked him out on the first night—a lithe but well-muscled, dark Greek, displaying a mixture of danger and sassiness; much more into what he was doing than any of the other performers. His act was black leather. Studded-leather harness crisscrossing his chest,

No More Evening Shifts

There were four of them who entered the store close to closing time, all muscled punks decked out in black leather. I owned the small convenience store but found myself behind the counter this evening because my regular night clerk called in sick. The hunkiest of the four came up to the counter and puckered his lips and gave me a air kiss. He asked me where Jake, my regular evening clerk, was.

Norwegian Stallion

One of the saddest—and most ironic—casualties of the internecine Greek-Turkish war on Cyprus that divided the island into warring camps three decades ago was the once-famous and elegant Ledra Palace Hotel. The Treaty Room of the Ledra Palace, a hulking stone edifice in the Moorish style, had been the venue where the British secretly committed the crime of slicing up the Arabian Peninsula and

Nuclear Meltdown

It was all happening so fast. I didn’t even have time to feel panic. I just felt a dullness and a foreboding—and a creeping sense of being trapped in a web of some sort. No, more like a cocoon, the sticky thread winding around and around me. Smothering me.“Just a few minutes, Dr. Winthrop, and you can go back to your room. I know this has been a shock to you. We have just a few more questions

On a String in Bangkok

In more recent years I look back on my mid-1970s (and then again early 1980s) Bangkok adventure and just shake my head, wondering what we were thinking we were doing then and how shallow we must have been to be so totally focused on beautiful bodies and the striving for perpetual orgasm.I think that for most of those I played with for two-and-a-half years in the 1970s, the hedonist urges

On The Roof

It was a hot day, and I was out doing my laps in the pool when the roofers arrived. They had started the previous afternoon, just diddling around and getting their supplies where they wanted them. The older of the two was a well-turned-out, chiseled-featured, and solidly built dude, probably in his early forties, with prematurely graying dark hair. He looked like he’d taken real good care of

On The Trail

I had never tried to seduce another guy before, but Dale was just there at the right time and place. We were both runners—he because he was on the college football team and running up and down the Pine Mountain trail helped keep him in shape and I because I wasn’t that long out of college myself and I was doing the best I could to keep my fine form in shape. We had passed each other a couple

Only a Custodian

“And a ten-inch cock.”“You’re shitting us now,” Oliver said.“Yes, I’m shitting you,” Porter answered. “But, really, I would want him to have a nice cock on him.”“Well, high on my list is that he has to be willing to take out the trash without being asked to,” Adrian interjected.“And put the toilet seat down too?” someone asked. They all laughed.“No, thank god,” Adrian answered

Pay-as-You-Go Hitching

I saw him from a good distance away, walking down the highway in the direction I was driving shortly after a big cloverleaf marking the intersection of two major highways. He hardly looked like an experienced hitchhiker, but that was exactly what he seemed to be doing. Not only was hitchhiking illegal on a highway like this, but I also couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a hitchhiker on the

Pianoman

“First the tide rushes in, plants a kiss on the shore . . .”Matt often started a set with something quiet and slow, like “Ebb Tide,” when there was a convention or two in the hotel, like there was today—electricians and bankers. What a combination. Something quiet tended to settle and quiet them down to the point that he could stand it.It wasn’t a question of being a prima donna and

Picking the First Fruit

I think I just might be the best peach picker in Virginia. Well, in Rockingham County at least. And that isn’t just me boasting. That’s what Brother Jeb said all the time I was picking peaches for him. And Mr. Howell said that to me too. More than once he said that. I’ve heard both men say that, in the peach business, it’s getting the first fruit of the season to market before anyone else does

Pirated

I was just about home free with the tasty wench the lads had brought on board for me from Kingston when the attack started. After some mouth play, she hadn’t objected in the least when I’d unlaced her bodice and started giving her ripe melons the attention they deserved. We were entwined together in the window seat of my vessel’s fantail, and, forward lass that she was, she had unbuttoned my

Porn War

The song “Kisses Sweeter than Wine” sprang to my mind, because that was what his kisses were. As far as I could tell in the dimly lit Blue Moon resort hotel room in Las Vegas, he was a young hunk, no older than I was. Most of the men in the room were older, a few probably twice or more my age. None were complete throwaways, but he was prime among them. And he had latched on to me as soon as I’d

Reconnected Recovery

[Author’s Note: When the Philippe LeCroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation” “Natchez Refreshment” “Biloxi Renewal” “Reconnected Recovery” “Theatrical Revival” “Sailing Back into Life” “Harvesting in the Park” “Garden District Plunge” “Dangerous Experiment” “Dueling Regeneration”] The young, drunk construction worker

Remembering Miles

I hadn’t seen Cousin Miles for nearly twenty years, and he looked more like it had been thirty. He looked so defeated and withdrawn into himself. And my memories were of a vibrant athlete. He wasn’t really a cousin in the blood-relative sense. Uncle John and Aunt Frieda had adopted both him and his sister, Mandy, because they couldn’t have any of their own. You could have told he wasn’t really

Renewal of Passion

I had been down and just marking time ever since I'd left Beirut three years earlier. I hadn't really been able to write that whole time either; I was just floating on the royalties from my earlier novels, written in the passion of my youth—passion that I just couldn't find in me anymore. Perhaps it was having hit that deadly age of fifty; perhaps passion naturally dissipated from that point.

Rest Stop

We were tooling down the highway in the early evening at a pretty good clip in my BMW Z4 Roadster when Perry started to get frisky. Perry was this hulking blond roommate of mine who also was on the football team, but who was a couple of years older than I was and played first-string tailback. I’d just started college this year and was still warming the bench, although I’d impressed the coach

Resting a Demon

I thought I was going to be sick. His mother asked him to entertain us, to play something for us on the piano, and the pert-butt blond tossed the curl out of his face and flowed over to the piano and started to fill the room with Chopin. I’d had this kid in my craw for a good fifteen years, and all I wanted to do was to slam him to the floor and fuck the stuffing out of him. And that was when he

Ride Em Cowboy

Since the 1930s my extended family has had a remote ranch in a hidden Colorado Rockies valley abutting Medicine Bow National Park south from Laramie, Wyoming. The mountain fasts there—almost alpine in environment—are majestic, but they can be raw and cruel as well. Our family raised cattle there and took timber off the mountainsides in a planned "thinning" harvest pattern that supported a

Rude Awakening

The most wonderful thing a lover has ever done for me was to give me my life. I didn’t understand it at the time, but if he had loved me as I wanted him to—as I begged him to—I would be long dead today. The days of my sexual coming of age in Bangkok, Thailand, during the early eighties were paradise followed by a rude awakening, a realization of how life can come back at you hard that I didn’t

Sacrificed by Curiosity

Doug had been conditioning me for months. We had met at the gym, and several weeks after we’d become regular spotting partners, he revealed to me, almost in an off-hand manner, that he was bisexual and that he actually preferred gay sex. He didn’t come on to me—at least not directly—and I consider myself fairly open-minded, so I continued with our informal spotting arrangements. I also had an

Sacrificed by Curiosity, Part 1

* * * The coven was good enough to dump Doug on the steps of an ER in a cross-town hospital and to drop me off at home with one of the younger men from the group there with me to clean me and the damage to our bedroom up and to provide an alibi for me when the police arrived later that evening. After the police left, I went into the bathroom and ran a steaming bath. I stretched out in the

Sacrificed by Curiosity, Part 2

I had been playing with the brunette’s tits, just as she was playing with mine, and I just got my hands away in time for Doug to take over. He must have been rougher on her tits than I was, because she was yipping and moaning and groaning and bouncing a bit on my skewer, which went to twelve inches under her attention. After a few minutes, he wish boned my legs again so that he could bury meat

Sailing Back into Life

Sailing Back into Life [Author’s Note: When the Philippe Lecroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation” “Natchez Refreshment” “Biloxi Renewal” “Reconnected Recovery” “Theatrical Revival” "Sailing Back into Life” “Harvesting in the Park” “Garden District Plunge” “Dangerous Experiment” “Dueling Regeneration”] Alphonse waved

Sailors and Flyboys

FlyboysPete swung into the gym with a big grin on his face. “Fleet’s in and I’ve already talked with Javier. His ship will be in early, on Thursday. Says he can get a three-day shore pass. Time for a special weekend.”“I’m game,” Todd answered, but he was looking up at the man spotting him on the bench press and asked, “How about you, Dan?”“Every weekend’s special with you, babe,” Dan

Satin Circus

(Written by request for a satin fetish story by James A.)The music swells and the lights dim under the big tent, as the excitement builds in the audience and the buzzing conversations subside with the rising expectation that something—something special—is about to happen. Strobing lights and laser beams come up, gyrating around on the floor below and under the canopy of the tent above,

Satin Sleigh Ride

Count Gregor Arninov towered over his elegantly dressed host and hostess in the foyer of their winter dacha as his sleigh was being brought around. He was leaning over them and holding the admiral’s wife’s small silk-gloved hand in his appreciably larger satin-clad one while he murmured how wonderful their ball had been and that, yes, he had enjoyed dancing with their daughter immensely. The

Satisfaction Ashram

As I stood outside the entrance to the old British colonial-style Windsor Hotel in Nuwara Eliya, Sri Lanka, in the shadow of Mount Pidurutagala, waiting for someone to take me up to the ashram, I couldn’t believe how far—and how far back in time—I had moved from Teddy’s cabin in the Catskills. From the moment Teddy’s business partner, Mort Whitley, had driven up to the cabin and told me how

Searching for It

Searching for It(Corbin and Ethan both go looking for it on the New York docks)(sounding, fetish, docks, gay male clubs, domination, gay anal, rough sex, daddies, obsession, collections)“Yo, there, buddy. Lookin’ for somethin’? Cause I got somethin’ for you.”Corbin took a good look at the burly man who had materialized from behind a stack of metal barrels beyond where the light

Snaked on Anjajavy Beach

I had both the advantages and curses of being a rock star. I could afford to go anywhere I wanted on the spur of the moment or as the mood hit me, but if a mood hit me that would land me in the tabloids, I’d better be prepared to go to the ends of the earth.The mood had hit me to get the most exotic and total fuck that I could find by the most talented cocksman I could attract. I had been on

Snow Trap

Boyd had been leery of the arrangement from the very beginning, but he hadn’t said anything to his father about it. His father seemed so happy about having found Vic, one of Boyd’s college prep school coaches, two years after Aaron, his former lover, had died. Boyd would much rather it had been anyone other than Vic, someone who Boyd hadn’t known before Aaron died. But, when he was being honest

Snowy, Snowy Nights

In most senses Bran had been invisible at the Hayden saloon the couple of months he’d been there. But as he came out of the back room into the main saloon hall, carrying the bucket of water Levi Yost, the saloon keeper, had told him to use to freshen the bowls in the rooms upstairs, he looked at the tall Christmas tree in the corner. Sadie, Katie, and Faye were busy happily decorating the tree

Solicitous Service

Goran saw the young man standing nervously at the reservations desk and liked what he saw. He was even happy that Serge, the maître d, was pretending not to see the young man, because that meant that Goran, the waiter, could see him to the table—and could make contact of some sort with him on the way there. Goran was one to make an immediate assessment of the playing field and pick out who he

Someday My Prince Will . . .

Last night I dreamt I went to paradise again. I believe we can credit the encounter to Daphne du Maurier. My tour in Cyprus was at an end, but I had hung on for a month, sending my wife back to Washington, D.C., to get the house open up again and everything there back in working order and to guide one of our children into a new university year. I had stayed past my assignment rotation date to

Sweet Sanjay

I heard my name being called out from the midst of the teeming horde pressing in on the barriers after customs in New Delhi’s Indira Gandhi international airport, and a head and arm waving a sign was bouncing up and down over the tumult. The sign the young man was carrying said “Clifford Jenkins” with “New York” written under it. That was me. But I wasn’t being met by anyone that I knew of. The

Swimming Lessons

“I’d like to make an Australian Crawl.” Stan gave a hearty laugh and acknowledged an empty glass up the bar. While he was gone, Keith, in turn, acknowledged that his own beer glass had miraculously filled on its own. He didn’t have much doubt that Stan was trying to get him drunk so that Keith would go in the back room with him. The burly barkeep had been putting the moves on him for some time

Ten Slash Two

I had been jittery and conflicted for the entire two weeks since I’d seen that big black topping a guy at a pool party in Bangkok. I had been bottoming for a Swede in a nearby patio lounge when I looked over and saw this monster cock jack-hammering in out of the other guy—who clearly was in seventh heaven—and I almost melted on the spot. I was conflict, though. Obsessed with desire because the

That One Exception

I have always managed to keep my bisexual world in check and separate from my public straight world by always putting my wife and children first and by committing only to them—that is, possibly, with one notable exception. I had an atypical long-term relationship with an Australian colleague that seemed innocuous at least at the beginning but that has grown stronger over the years—possibly beyond

The Awakening

I guess it may have been because of my mother—and of the strange beliefs my grandmother formed around her. Up until the time my grandmother’s ill health coincided with me being old enough to go to college, I’d been kept in the dark about so many things. I knew that my mother must have done some really, really bad things from the way that my grandmother just tightened up, crossing her arms under

The Caregiver

Perhaps I gave in so easily because Lenny embodied the best of two worlds. First, he was a wonderful, gentle caregiver. He had been coming to my house twice a day for several weeks to take care of my bed-bound grandmother, who was recovering from a broken hip. Second, he was drop-dead gorgeous. All blond Swedish muscle with a shy smile to accompany his sensuous mouth. I’d had a rough week

The Celtic Sonata of Life

I was sitting outside the cottage door, just in my shorts, wondering if the farmer who had rented the rustic Cotswold cottage with the thatched roof and the rose trellis beside the door to me for two weeks had misinterpreted my offer. It hadn’t been in so many words, but I think I had been clear enough in my nonverbal delivery. But maybe not. Maybe signaling here in England was much different

The Clothes Horse

“You’d get half of the bid, plus you’d get to keep the clothes.”I didn’t know that I was all that wild about being auctioned off, but I had to admit that I liked—no, I loved—Zhao Zeng’s clothes. That was what had attracted me to him in the first place. His black satin shirt and trousers were cut so well—and so provocatively—on him that I could hardly keep my eyes off him, even though I’d come

The Commander

“Ahhh, that were very nice,” I said with a deep, satisfied sigh, as I spilled my seed down Des’s chin. We were in the boathouse on the lower lake, here because Des had wanted me to fuck him. But now we’d have to sit and talk for a bit, listening to the racing shells grind against the dock outside in the bit of a squall that had come up over Sandhurst. It would take me a few to recharge.“Cig?”

The Compassionate Reporter

“Lou is chasing another story down, Gavin, and this one doesn’t look like more than a short paragraph in the local news section. So if you’ve got an hour or two, could you check this out? And if you don’t have an hour or two, I’d like to know what you’re doing; what you’re working on now was due on my desk an hour ago.”The city editor handed Gavin a telephone message form.“OK, boss. I’ll

The Cure

I came to slowly, the flashing colored lights taking their time to form in my consciousness and whatever Tony had spiked my drink with slow to let loose of me. I was lying on a bed. I tried to rise, but my hands were cuffed together above me and my legs were cuffed as well to the lower corners of the bed. But the bounds were loose there. I could raise my legs as I wanted, but I couldn’t rise from

The Darling

“I’m going to take you to the Darling tonight.”I froze. I’d been chatting with three other guys on the sectional sofa in the conversation pit, not even aware that the major had reentered the house. I was studiously avoiding thinking of where he was. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been in this conversation group at all. I normally tried to stay well away from these three. The three pansies we had

The Day the Earth Moved

The two construction workers worked quickly and efficiently, cleaning up for the evening around the construction site on the new house on the steep hillside overlooking the pounding surf on the rugged coast below. The two moved together, in fluid motion. They were having a boisterous and obscene conversation of what the two horny hunks planned to do to their girl friends that evening after a

The Netotiator

I wondered what he could tell about me that no one at home or the office—at least I hoped and always had thought—knew. He had introduced himself as Hal when he’d appeared beside me in Business Class and I’d stood from my aisle seat so that he could get over to the window. He’d had a friendly smile, and if I hadn’t been busy during the first two hours over the Atlantic from New York going over the

The Thunderstorm

I fully acknowledge my weakness, but I think Janine has a share in the shattering of my vows to her. I’d only had that one fling back in college—with Phil. But Chet and Phil had had an affair after college, and now Chet was living in the next acreage to ours. Obviously Phil and Chet had talked about me, and Chet knew all about me before he moved here, because he had made quite clear to me that he

The Video List

“It sounds too complicated for you, Matt,” Jason had said. “Getting a list would be the hardest part—impossible, I think. This is a small potatoes town. I think you should just keep it to the street and be happy when it works out. And get a job.”I’ll admit that getting a job was what got the plan rolling. Then getting a list turned out to be one of the easiest parts. The roughest part,

Theatrical Revival

Theatrical Revival [Author’s Note: When the Philippe LeCroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation” “Natchez Refreshment” “Biloxi Renewal” “Reconnected Recovery” “Theatrical Revival” “Sailing Back into Life” “Harvesting in the Park” “Garden District Plunge” “Dangerous Experiment” “Dueling Regeneration”] The bodybuilder

To Die in Madeira

I closed my lips over Sir Guy’s cock and pushed his foreskin down with them, my tongue going to opening and flicking down into his piss slit as my mouth slowly took more and more of him inside the moist warmth of my mouth cavity. He sighed contentedly and ran his fingers through my hair. He reached up and pulled my cock down to his lips and started returning the compliment.We were half way

Training Asu

“You cannot put it off any longer, my friend. If you do not choose for Asu soon, the priests will take him. The choice will no longer be yours—or Asu’s. He is of age for starting the life chosen for him. He cannot do other than meet his destiny.”“I know that, Sargon, it is just so hard . . .”Baltasar, the wood merchant, was sitting at a table outside of the tea shop in the bazaar, sipping

Trip Money

I had become a regular at the gym on Tuesday nights, and this 40-something businessman named Clint, who was also a regular on that night, and I had gotten to where we regularly spotted each other through our bar bell work. He was in great shape for his age, leaner than I was, but with well-defined, ropy muscles and chiseled square-cut features. I’d been trying to save the money for some time to

Trucker Bait

As I came up from the beach, I saw Carl and Angela on the deck, He had her top off and was stroking her breasts, and she was sitting astride his lap, having made who knows what connection. I knew what they’d be doing for the next couple of hours, which would leave me at loose ends again. I decided to take the initiative. “Hey, Carl,” I yelled out from below the deck sight line. “Would now be

Trunk Of The Car, 1

Trunk of the Car, Part 1 I found I had a carefree weekend on my hands, so I had driven into the small town to answer an ad for a classic Triumph convertible that I might want to add to my collection. But I had been up and down the street several times without finding the address I was looking for. So, I just parked my car and started hunting on foot. I did find the address, but no one seemed

Trunk Of The Car, Part 2

Eric must have enjoyed the polishing job we’d done on the trunk of his Tempest, because when I’d finished shooting off into him, he said, “Well, Peter if you’ll get this beautiful body off mine and stop entertaining the neighbors, perhaps we should go in and shower.” “I want to fuck again. I want you to fuck me,” I said, without moving. “That’s not out of the equation,” Eric said, with a

Trunk Of The Car, Part 3

As we were leaving the shower, Eric took the tube of mentholated lubricant, squeezed out a large glob, and asked Claude to apply it, which Claude was more than happy to do, pushing his hand deep down the back of Eric’s silk shorts and massaging the gel into Eric’s ass as Eric grunted and twitched his butt. “As soon as this does it’s magic,” Eric said. “I want you to have another go at me, Claude.

Trunk Of The Car, Part 4

Sometime later, I was awakened by Eric pressing on my shoulder. I raised my arms to bring him into bed with me, but he shushed me and said in a low voice, “No, not that. We hear something downstairs. Claude’s gone ahead to check it out. He wants us to follow him down. When we got to the first floor, we could see Claude at the back of the house, near a door that went into a workout room. Claude

Trunk Of The Car, Part 5

After hosing ourselves off again and getting back into those silk shorts, Claude suggested we go down to the living room and drink beer and watch a football game on TV. So, down we went. After I tossed off my first beer, I began to feel a little sorry for the dude hanging up in the gym and asked if it would be okay if I went in there and cleaned him up a bit and put some salve on the new hole

Trunk Of The Car, Part 6

When I awoke, the room was dim, and the house seemed very quiet. It had been a great day, but it was time to shower off one last time and hit the road. But first I’d find the guys and see what they were up to. As I got to the bottom of the stairs, I heard some noises from the back of the house and padded into the gym. The pizza guy was still on delivery, I could see. They’d pulled out the

Turkish Delight Times Six

While living on the island of Cyprus, I developed quite a taste for young Turkish men. If you could get a good-looking, well-constructed Turkish guy before he got too far into his forties, you could almost guarantee you'd have something forceful, vigorous, straightforward, and good natured to play with. You also, quite often, would have a guy with a pretty heavy pelt on him. Now, I didn't

Two Men in a Dungeon

The Hulk crouched near the bolted heavy oak door, eyeing Rab, ready to pounce, trying to anticipate where Rab might try to scurry next. The stone-walled chamber wasn’t small, but it wasn’t so large that Rab had much of a chance evading the Hulk much longer. Both men were panting, having played this cat-and-mouse game for several minutes, but Rab was more winded than the Hulk was. No one in his

Wrong Choice

It was the wrong choice of swimwear, and I was headed back to the guest room to rectify that, when the cause of it all stopped me in the hallway. The new owner of our company had invited me to his country place for a weekend to discuss some details of a project we were working on and it turned out there was a pool party included. But, not knowing that, I hadn’t brought my suit. I had assumed this

Zonked

I had literally creamed myself almost nightly for Phil’s body, but Phil was about as straight as they come--and getting all the female tail he could handle if all the talk around campus was true. We were both attending the university on athletic scholarships--Phil on a football and baseball scholarship and me on a wrestling scholarship, wrestling being a good way for me to get down and dirty with

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