The Summer of 2004

The Summer of 2004

It’s summer of my 20th year, and I am experiencing a life-altering, sizzling, sexual awakening–and, so far, the best summer of my life. I just finished my junior year at California State Poly and came home a week ago.

I’m the second oldest of 4 athletic boys, and my parents are still together and happy, most of the time. I had been looking forward to spending some fun times with my old high school buddies, catching up on what girls they fucked in college, what classes they failed. We’d be sure to go out drinking at McBirdy’s Tavern every night, raise some hell, laugh about old times, and the summer standard: lifeguarding while bikini watching at Pine Lake.

My first day home, after conning my folks into believing I got all A’s, I called my old boss, but he informed me that he wouldn’t be needing me this summer. “Budget cuts” were affecting even normally thriving summer businesses, he said.

“That blows,” I told him. “I’ve been guarding here for 5 years.”

“My hands are tied, Mike, I’m sorry.” He almost sounded apologetic. I was so counting on this gig. My credit card debt was mounting, and I had already tapped out my parents for car insurance money.


This story is a work of fiction. All characters are older than 18. They have fun having gay sex. If gay sex is not allowed in your country, you should consider moving to another one. The characters are not having safe sex, please use condoms while exploring your sexuality. As always, I look forward to your comments and suggestions. Thank you for choosing to read my story and I hope you enjoy! You may contact me at gaynerdy2014@gmail.com , also if you have your own story. Please send to this email gaynerdy2014@gmail.com , or click SUBMIT YOUR OWN STORIES! at the top right corner of HOME SCREEN. Also, If you include your name. I will give credit as due, otherwise, it will read as - Read By: Bobby Newberry. THANK YOU for helping to build Gay and Nerdy Archives Library of Erotic Stories and more. Note: We do not own these stories, only share. If you believe this story should not be here. Email gaynerdy2014@gmail.com and explain. If so, we will fix this mistake. Please keep in mind. IT COST MONEY TO KEEP THIS WEBSITE UP AND RUNNING. So with that in mind please consider purchasing something from one of our Adult Toy Stores (By clicking link, or picture below). Win, win for both parties involved. We get financing for website and you get pleasure from your toy purchase. No purchase is too small. Check out one of our stores listed here: Bobo Sex Toys, Sextration.com, and Sex MONKEY Toys. Store and DVD’s. SO WITH THAT IN MIND. UNZIP and ENJOY! Also check out: The Gay Classifieds.


I begrudgingly picked up a copy of the Star Ledger, a NJ daily, figuring I’d get a jump on any new classified jobs listed. I was actually hoping not to find anything in there; I wanted a fun summer, not one slaving for some asshole. I found one ad that immediately stirred me in the groin. “WANTED: Strong, Fit, College Man to Help U.S. Marine with Odd Jobs Around Yard.”

“Now, that sounds like an awesome job,” I mused. I had always fancied myself being a U.S. Marine, or at least being in the company of them. I used to get heartsick–and hard on–looking at this Marine who would visit our campus. I’d become paralyzed by the sight of his tight ass, unable to take my eyes off of the perfect backside as it filled out his crisp pants with military precision. After seeing him on campus, I’d rush to my dorm or a bathroom to assault my manhood and visualize being overpowered by this sexy soldier of stud. I wanted to be his soldier of cock.

I’ve always thought of myself as basically straight, but I knew that I’d do anything for the chance to just once push my face into another man’s ass. When I would see that drill instructor’s jaw-dropping, mouth-watering bum, I would imagine what the texture of his pants would feel like as I buried my face into the forbidden zone, kissing him and rotating my face.

I’d envision burrowing my face into this most personal pleasure zone and inhaling the taboo region as deeply as my homo-curious lungs would allow. I’d imagine my lips and nose right about where his asshole would be situated. I’d feel his balls on my chin. I’d feel his powerful thighs squeezing my head, holding my face captive, forcing me to breathe, exclusively, the intoxicating, dick-hardening maleness of his crotch.

I’d pucker my starved lips and push them into where no masculine straight man dare trod. I’d imagine him quietly groaning while saying, “Oh yeah, Mike, do it up. Do me good, tongue that hole, son.” By the time I violently erupted, I’d try and forget about this “wrong” fantasy of “queers” and focus on finding a girl.

Girls were all over me, ever since the 8th grade, but I never could find one that I really wanted to be with. Being 20 now, it was time. I gotta settle for one, any one, I thought. I was afraid my buddies would be talking about me, questioning my life.

It was hard to motivate myself to pursue pussy. Each year, the thought of a man’s ass and cock was becoming more and more overpowering. This Marine at college was making if very difficult to rationalize my homo feelings as just a phase. I had to seriously come to terms. Me, Mr. 6 ft., rock-hard-bodied, good-looking, clean-cut stud might be bisexual. I might be gay.

Because I had gotten to the paper early, I was the first one to call the guy. He seemed all business. “Get over here and meet with me, son. Can’t hire ya over the fuckin’ phone.” He rattled off the address and hung up.

“Sounds like a macho asshole,” I surmised. But, inasumuch as I was always a sucker for a military dude, out of curiosity I’d drive on over. And sometimes macho assholes are fucking hot.

I made my way to his street in anticipation, spinning through the narrow-winding, tree-lined roads of Kyle Lake, NJ in my 2000 Mazda. It was a 30 minute drive to 2 Pine Tree Lane, where I politely pulled into the sinuous, and descending, cobble-stoned driveway. At the end of the winding trail, I saw a secluded home.

“Sweet, and situated on a lake just like ours,” I verbalized as I closed the car door and ambled up the granite, pine-needled front walk. If the car engine didn’t announce my arrival, my feet crunching gravel and pinecones with each step certainly would. I heard dogs barking, breaking the overwhelming sense of gorgeous solitude.

On the phone, the guy had mentioned he was a veteran of the Gulf War. He had hurt his back and was temporarily unable to do any lifting or heavy exerting. My job would be landscaping and sundry chores. The property was impressive, had to be several acres easily, and the centerpiece being a modest-sized, yet attractive, cherry-wood log cabin. I hoped the man would not be some bitter old bastard, because this place seemed like one fucking perfect place to spend a summer. I wanted this gig bad!

When the inside door opened, I was met at the screen door by two friendly but imposing German Shepard dogs and one very rugged-looking man. A lot younger, maybe 35, and in better shape than I imagined, I thought. As he opened the screen door and invited me in, I could size him up better. He wasn’t just rugged, he was undeniably handsome too.

He was outfitted in Desert Storm, khaki fatigue pants with a healthy bulge in the zipper and a tight gray t-shirt with fading dark blue letters spelling U.S. Marine Corps across his solid pecs. His face was handsome in a hockey player type way. His hair was thick, apparently allowed to grow out while being on leave. He had masculine looking, squared and neat, half-inch sideburns, that made him look even manlier when he smiled. I saw bright, piano key teeth, surprising for someone so rugged.

With the nice tan and lean muscular arms he was sporting, I thought he looked like a Marine poster boy. As he walked, his ass was even better looking than the drill instructor’s at college. I thought, “If this was going to be my job, working with this stud in this gorgeous place, man oh man, I was going to be one happy recruit!”

“Hi, I’m Mike,” I offered as he told the dogs, “Go on, get outta here, boys.” The dogs ran outside, and he grasped my hand vice-grip tightly and nodded, appearing to size me up in a once-over glance, and then silently motioned me with a nod of his head to follow him.

He led me through the masculine, sparsely furnished interior which was adorned with Gulf War Hero photos of him and his buddies. My sex-starved eyes gravitated mostly to his photos, particularly the crotches in them: as he was climbing a rope, carrying an assault rifle, driving a tank, broadly smiling with 3 buddies and a beer, and showing off his medals. This dude was male as male ever was, and that fucking bulge was even better looking in person.

As I stepped through the stud’s spread, I noticed the upper loft of the cabin and wondered if it led to his bedroom, what it must look like. I wondered if there’d be dry, cum-stained tissues under his bed and who he thought about when he yanked. Did he ever have a gay fantasy?

“Come on. I’ll show ya around the joint,” he offered as he directed me through the sliding glass doors of the living room onto the outdoor deck, which he made a point of bragging that he built himself. The deck overlooked the spacious, crystal-clear lake and was surrounded by pine and oak trees bordering a thousand acres of mountainous, protected state land.

This all gave off more than a secluded feeling; I felt as if we were in the isolated Rockies. Who’d have thought this could be northern Jersey, just a half hour’s drive from my home? And this stud might be my boss? Life is sweet!

He had noticed my admiration of the wall photos moments earlier and noted in his very rugged, almost raspy voice, “Yeah, those are shots of me back there.” By the way, I’m Robert, Lieutenant Colonel Robert Andrews, U.S. Marine Corps.” I gulped, and my heart seriously malfunctioned as I made eye contact.

“Mike, Mike Johnson, Cal. State.” He didn’t laugh at my feeble attempt at humor. He got right to business. “Look, boot, I hurt my back last month while off, fucked it up as I was building the deck. Wish I could say I had some war injury. Fact is, I just fell on my ass. Got a nice looking physical therapist chick, though, who’s working with me. But I need help around here, till I heal.”

“Did he just call me ‘boot’? This guy is a fucking man all the way.” He elaborated that he inherited the home and its five acres from his parents, who no longer could endure northeast winters.

“They retired to Boca, that’s in Florida, where everybody over 65 hops on a fuckin’ golf cart these days, I guess.”

“Yeah, my parents will be heading there soon, too.” I had no idea if they were; I just wanted to get some footing with this guy. I wanted to show I had a sense of humor as well. I immediately liked him, his maleness, his sexy body, his hair. I wanted him to like me. What better way than to agree with him.

I thought I’d open up the conversation with sports. I had been a star pitcher for 3 of my 4 years of high school. It seemed everyone in the area was a New York Yankees fan, so I figured that was safe. “You a Yankee fan?” I asked.

“Fuck no. Mets all the way, scrub!”

“Yeah, me too,” I retorted with lightning speed.

He scoffed. “What the fuck is that? You ask me if I’m a Yankee fan and then when I say I like the Mets, you say ‘Me too’? You gotta dick son? You’re just being agreeable cause you want the job, right?”

“Well, the ’86 series WAS exciting. So was the ’69 one.”

“What does your pussy ass know about 69, son? Man, you’ll agree with everything I say, prob’ly, right?”

I smiled in a self-deprecating, “Hey, you are the boss,” way.

“Well, in that case, how ’bout sucking my eight-inch cock?” He looked serious for a tense moment, and he motioned to unzip. Then he burst out laughing and punched me in the arm. “You wanna beer, guy?”

“Uh, yeah,” I answered as I thought, “Boy does this guy have a quirky sense of humor. But I like him, though, either in spite of his quirkiness or because of it. I really want this job. I want HIM.”

He grabbed two bottles of Bud and we talked on his deck while the dogs were heard barking at a jetskier in the distance. He explained that he was leaving the Marines. “I been a Marine since right outta high school, 15 years.” He seemed curious to hear about other avenues of youth: college, lifeguarding, summer jobs. I filled him in.

“Oh, I’ve been a lifeguard while I’ve been in college and high school. I’m studying to be an engineer. My dad wanted me to be a lawyer like him. I grew up over in West Milford. I love sports, um, I was in the papers a lot in high school for my pitching. I got 3 brothers….”

I could tell he was sizing me up as I spoke and he casually sipped his beer. This was in addition to the sizing up at the door. I guessed he was thinking, I don’t know if you got the build for real work. But after I finished the beer he had kindly offered, he abruptly asked if I could start right away, tomorrow exactly. I enthusiastically agreed. I was to “report for AD at 0800 hours.”

“That’s military time, right? What is that, 8 o’clock?” I thought I’d ask that first and then ask what “AD” was.

“Gotta real fucking genius here, a rocket scientist, hear that boys!” he yelled to his dogs. The dogs, as if understanding, barked approval. I didn’t know what planet I was on.

“This guy is a fucking nut,” I thought. But I was so turned on by his take-charge manliness. We shook hands. I tried to contain my excitement and casually strolled to the car.

“And AD is Active Duty!” he shouted after me. He knew I must be clueless.

I needed to change my cum-stained shorts. Maybe he didn’t notice–I hoped he didn’t notice the wetness or its source, a raging 7-incher, desperate to be placed comfortably into another man’s ass. I had gotten myself so worked up taking his vision in. He was a stud like none I had ever seen. A real outdoors character.

On the drive home, my cock was throbbing so hard that I honestly thought I’d better find my old lifeguard jock strap to contain it the following day. If I was going to work around this stud, I would need something to hold my enraged tool down. I couldn’t have Robert knowing I’ve got it bad for him.

I could hardly sleep that night. I thought of what I had witnessed that day. This stud’s wavy, thick hair with the slight recession at the temples was so tough. If his ass was intoxicating, the lump in the front of his pants was deadly. I’d give my summer’s salary for the chance to kiss that lump, even right through the pants, just once. Shit, I’d give my right arm to swallow his load.

I beat and beat and beat my meat, maniacally, thinking of what I’d do with him. By the fourth time of jerking off, I was spent, not a drop left, but I was still horny. All my thoughts of the college drill instructor’s ass had only been a rehearsal to what I was feeling and thinking now. I wanted Robert Andrews so bad.

The next day I showed up right on time–I was afraid, I think, to be even a minute late–and Robert had coffee and a bagel for me. “Pretty civil and decent from someone like him,” I thought.

We drank and ate while he showed me his motorcycle, a sleek looking, 1997 black Harley-Davidson. My inner-most desires must have subconsciously forced this out of me: “The girls will go wet hungering for you on this bike.”

“You think so?” he answered as he studied me, quizzically.

I wasn’t sure if his studying me was a negative response to my remark. “Shit, yeah,” I responded as macho as I could. I couldn’t have him get suspicious. I tried to deftly back-pedal. “I mean these bikes just WREAK sex, sir.” I wanted it to be clear that the bike was where my thoughts were–not on the delicious lump in his pants, or that ass that begs my tongue inside it, or those bulging legs, or those tight pecs, or those forearms with the sexy U.S.M.C. tattoo and bulging, green veins.

After a guided tour around the sprawling, idyllic property while sipping coffee and sneaking peeks of his body, I was given instructions about my assignment of the day. I’d be raking leaves and bringing them over to the incinerator barrell. Not a small task; the place was huge. But I only had to do the western side hill today, he reasoned.

Robert’s physical therapist would be over shortly, so he went inside to leave me to work. As he walked away, I stood transfixed by his muscular ass, tight and slightly bubbled. I reveled in every detail of it. He was wearing dark blue cargo pants today, with the back pocket tops slightly curled up, revealing the velcro strip which normally holds them closed. I noticed the wallet bulge in the left back one. I wanted to be that wallet. I felt compelled to inspect as much of his ass as I could take in. I was inhaling the picture, memorizing it for my nightly beat off sessions. I was hypnotized. I wanted my face between those pockets.

I stood there in a fugue state, both hands together around the top of the rake with my chin resting on them, head wistfully tilted, as I watched that astonishing manly ass strut up the shaded hill. I had a dark, perverse desire: I wanted to SMELL that ass. I stood there blue-balled, my mouth salivating, my heart racing. Then, to my abject horror, Robert took a quick about-face to say something but stopped when he saw me. He looked taken aback, a bit stunned. His expression changed from pleasant to disgust. My adam’s apple went into a spasm as I gulped. I imagined he was done with me at that point.

I felt mortified, and started feverishly raking the leaves, in some misguided hope of forgetting about getting busted. “Maybe he thought I was watching the beautiful property? Could it be, even if he knew I was watching him, he didn’t know I was specifically watching his ass? Yeah, right. Face it, I’m just a faggot who just got nailed big time! I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t ask me back after today.”

“What an asshole I am,” I said out loud. I didn’t care if the lake air carried it to Robert’s ears. I felt like such an idiot.

After several hours of raking, I heard the therapist saying good-bye and congratulations followed by her car door slamming and her rusted 1994 Chevy Cavalier exiting the driveway. Apparently, she was done for the day and I was about finished with the day’s raking. I hoped he would want me back. I felt terror about seeing him face to face. I grabbed the last bag of leaves and brought them over to the mulch barrell, which Robert would be igniting this evening.

I loved the smell of burning leaves. I fantasized about being invited here at night, hanging outside with him, burning the leaves, toasting marshmellows, smelling the outdoor scene before taking his cock and balls, with their own delerium-inducing scent, into my mouth, my ass, my face.

As I dumped the last of the day’s leaves into the burned, orange, rust-covered barrell, a hand suddenly touched my shoulder. I was so startled that I almost shit my shorts. “Oh shit!” I exclaimed. “Don’t do that to me, Robert.” I loved saying his first name. With a bit of an ingratiating, overly-masculine, please-forget-I-was-looking-at-you-before smile, I continued, “You scared the shit out of me, bro.” I was trying so hard to make myself as masculine as possible.

He patted me hard on the shoulder. “Sorry boot, I just wanted to share some good news.” With that, he reached down and grabbed his toes. Coming back up with a cocky smile, he added, “What do ya think, son? No more sick call for me. The PT hooked me up!” He let out a “YEEEhaw,” which echoed across the lake.

I lightly patted him on the shoulder with “That is so fucking awesome, man. Congratulations!” I was genuinely happy for him. I liked the guy, but I was feeling a bit sad, too: “Will my services no longer be needed? My cock and heart were getting fixated on this guy. I admired him. I liked him. I just wanted to hang with him, get to know him. He seemed to receive me well just now, and genuinely wished to share his good fortune with me. I felt good about that, anyway.”

If he had approached me with a stern expression, I would have been afraid that he was disapproving of what he had earlier caught me doing. Now that he was smiling about his recovery, I thought “Perhaps he’s forgotten all about my roaming eyes? Maybe he wasn’t at all suspicious about my sexuality or my hunger for his manhood. Maybe he’s not mad at all with me. He probably didn’t even notice what I was looking at, and I probably misinterpreted his behavior. I’m just a paranoia case, I guess. All is cool.”

About his recovery, he had a swaggering, cocky demeanor: “Yeah, I knew it wouldn’t be long. I’m in good shape. I might be a few years older than you, knob, but I can kick your ass!” He playfully punched my arm and wrestled me down. We rolled over twice and he had me pinned.

I had pine needles all over my back and hair. But all I was nervous about was if he felt my hard-on when he roughed me up. I don’t think he’d imagine my cock was that big or that hard, normally. “It’s hopeless,” I thought. Now he knows for sure. But then he flexed his right arm. “Is that an arm, huh, scrub?” He seemed so proud of his brute strength, being able to bring down a 20 year old athlete, and his physical stature. I was thrilled that this was what was on his mind and not the fact that I’m a faggot who’s hot for him.

I momentarily put my fingers around the rock of his bicep. “Oh definitely,” I instinctively uttered. I hoped that I, once again, wasn’t revealing my inner desires. I just felt compelled to agree with–and touch–him.

“Hey, I know that my back is better now, but I still need ya around the yard. I gotta lotta shit to take care of here and I could use the help still.”

“Yeah, I’m really glad to help out.”

He looked at me non-descriptly and deadpanned, in a matter of fact way, “Yeah, I’ll bet you are.”

More thoughts raced through my tortured brain: “Now what did he mean by that? Shit, I had just gotten to a point where I figured that maybe he wasn’t noticing my drooling over his ass or my hard-on, but now he makes a remark like that! Wait, I’m getting totally paranoid now, there’s no need to be worried. He just meant he’s sure that I’d like to work in this nice place, that’s it. Who wouldn’t? Now stop torturing yourself. I think so many years of silently lusting after guys is making me paranoid. Robert doesn’t know shit. He has NO idea that I’m hungering for him. So get a grip of yourself, Mike.”

“Well, I gotta head on outta here boot. I’ll see ya tomorrow, ‘kay guy?” he said as he sauntered up the hill and I made a point of not watching his ass.

“Sure, definitely,” I responded. I’m certain my voice dropped to an almost baritone in my desperate attempt at countering anything bad he might have been thinking about me.

I went home and showered and had an unexplained, ferocious desire to explore myself using the shampoo conditioner as lube. I worked three fingers up my ass and started feeling around and pushing in and out, in and out, in and out. I squatted in the shower on my knees, my ass in the air, and imagined it was Lt. Robert Andrews behind me, plowing me but good. It hurt to have my fingers there. “What must a real cock feel like?”

I worked my hole and with my other hand yanked my crank. I blew a hefty load all over our new tiles and a bottle of Herbal Conditioner, just a second before I heard pounding on the door.

“Hurry the fuck up, Mike!” Jason, my 15 year-old, geek brother shouted.

“Wait your fucking turn, you know-nothing boot!”

“I gotta take a SHIT, asshole!”

“Okay, okay, hold on.” I cleaned up the cum, toweled off, and wrapped my dad’s ripped-off, NY Health Club towel around my waist, admiring my tight, built torso in the mirror, but thinking Robert’s was better. When I opened the door, Jason said “About time!” and practically dove onto the toilet.

“This superior officer is clearing out. Carry on troops!” I spoke majestically as I saluted and strutted down the hall to my room: “Ten SHUN, Hut two three four, Hut two three four….”

“Um, yeah, you’re not gay,” I heard him call out to me before slamming the door. Fuck, does everyone think I’m gay?

It was still kind of early in the evening, but I wanted to turn in. When a stud like Lieutenant Andrews wrestles you to the ground, when you spend the day near that kind of raw masculinity, lying on your back on your bed with your hand in your crotch, reliving the day, every last moment of it, is just about the only evening activity worth partaking in.

I violently blew a load into a tissue, in three earth-shaking, spine-tingling convulsions, as I visualized myself smelling Robert, licking his sweaty balls. The soppy tissue I tossed under the bed. I fell to sleep and had such an intense, cock-dripping, twisted dream.

ultra-1-compressorThe lake had been drained and replaced with Robert’s cum. I was lifeguarding when I had to dive in and save someone. While under the cum, it became me who got stuck. I was drowning, but I loved it. I drank as much cum as I could, my nose and lungs were taking in cum, cum and more hot, steaming cum. I was dying but I seemed to be the only one at the beach not complaining. My dad was yelling, trying to help. For the first time in my life I had a vision of my dad’s cock. He opened his pants in front of a beach full of everyone I ever knew in my life, dropped his boxers, offered me his manhood. It was 20 feet long. He told me to grab on. I grabbed my father’s cock, in front of everyone. He told me to suck it. I was reluctant. He pushed me down on it. My friends were horrified. I just kept sucking. I loved it!

Then I was back under the cum in the lake and felt strong, manly, aggressive hands on my shoulders, pulling me up from the seminal sea and placing me on my back. I felt the sun all over my semen-drenched body. My 7-inch pole was happily straight up. And someone was giving me mouth to mouth. It was my father! And it was Robert, too. It was my father and Robert at the same time, same body. Their lips met mine but were kissing me instead of blowing life into me.

My dad and Robert were covered in ejaculate, too. They told me they wanted me. I awoke the next morning with an enraged penis. I felt guilty for being so turned on at the thought of my dad’s cock. I needed to beat that fantasy away from me. I savagely pounded my meat, thinking only of Robert–how could I have had such a sick dream about dad?–before getting ready and reporting for duty. I passed my dad in the hall. “Morning dad,” I said as I hurried to Robert’s.


Chapter 2: USMC Lt. Colonel brings him down.

It was a gorgeous, late June day, 70 degrees and going to climb to 82 by mid-afternoon. “Easy day,” I thought. I arrived early and as I walked up to Robert’s door, I heard some loud Led Zeppelin music down by the boat house, so I followed it. Robert was on the grass doing exercises. He looked so sexy. “Hey Robert, what’s going on, man?” I offered as my morning manly greeting.

“Same thing I do every morning, boot, PT at 0600 to 0800 hours.” Reading my expression, he added: “That’s physical training, boot.”

“Cool.”

“I’m glad ya think so, cause that’s what I got your college ass doin’ today.”

“What? I’m not painting the boathouse?”

“No, not yet, I’m gonna have ya suck my asshole in the hot sun for five hours. I want your tongue up there as far as you can get it….Up for that?” He looked as serious as if he had just told me to clean out the boathouse.

I knew his bent humor by now. I thought I’d pretend not to notice the joke. “You’re going to pay me extra for that, right?” I asked incredulously.

Maybe he didn’t appreciate my one-upmanship of him, he abruptly changed the subject. “Don’t get smart-mouthed with your CO.”

“CO?”

“Commanding Officer, scrub. Look, I told you you’d be doing odd jobs. I’ll give you assignments that are benfecial not just to me but you and the earth as well.” He continued his sit-ups as he spoke.

“Seeing your pussy-assed physique, PT would be beneficial to ya. We’re all connected, boot. Turn off the MTV once in awhile. Read up on some Zen and see the inter-connectedness of, and your place in, the universe.”

“Man,” I thought, “Robert is so fucking manly and strange–and I’m liking him more and more. But I have a good body, what’s he talking about? If I can throw a fast ball at 90 mph, I can handle any of his PT shit, no prob.”

I joined Robert in PT, the hardest fucking exercising I’ve ever done in all my years of hard-ass baseball coaches! He pounded my ass. The fucker blew a whistle and turned a fucking hose of frigid lake water all over me when I wasn’t performing “to satisfaction.”

I wanted to impress him, so for two hours I did push-ups, sit-ups, and lunges until I was exhausted and either wet from sweat, the hose, or the cum in my shorts. (Try laying down and doing sit-ups when a handsome, hung, studly Marine is standing over you hosing you down.)

Just when I thought I could finally rest and have a bagel and coffee, he had me jog around the fucking lake holding a 5 foot tree he had picked up from the local nursery. He jogged alongside me with a shovel.

At the other end of the lake, he told me to “start digging, son, and give back to the earth.” While he sat on his beautiful ass and watched, I dug a hole and placed the tree inside. “Now, boot, you know something about meaningful work. Now move your sorry ass back to the commissary to the chow line.” We jogged back in silence and instead of thinking what a weirdo Robert was, I think I decided then that I was in love, absolute, mad, hot, passionate love.

We ate our bagels and downed some coffee while discussing the overdevelopment of nearby lake towns such as mine, how lucky this lake’s residents were to be adjoining state protected land. “Yeah, ‘cept I got one fucker for a neighbor who doesn’t value trees. Douche bag cut down 20 of ‘em to make way for a pool. You believe that shit? You live on a lake and you need a fucking pool? By the way, that tree you planted was on the cocksucker’s property. I’ve been doing that morning planting run for a week now. So, if you ever see a guy on my property comin’ atcha with an ax—that’s prob’ly him.”

“Oh, that’s uh, good to know, thanks for the info.” I laughed. I think his eyes did as well; he wouldn’t admit I made him laugh. I wondered how much of what he had told me was true.

As the enigmatic Marine stud, with the hot ass and the bulging groin and the beautiful tan and the thick shiny hair and the nice teeth and the veinous forearms and the built chest and the sexy compact hands and the tight muscular legs and the boyishly rugged face, looked out over the lake taking in the beauty, I did the same with his body.

I sneaked a peek at his chest. I liked how it protruded from under the shirt, making the U.S.M.C. lettering more pronounced. I quickly followed the sweat trail to his bulge. When he leaned on his right leg, his bulge appeared even bigger, sexier, tastier. I wanted my mouth all over it.

I was more than excited. I was super rock-hard and opportunistically staring directly at his fly zone. I knew the uber-man could be quick with a fake-out military maneuver, but this time I was careful about it. I was prepared to dart my eyes away very quickly. After a minute of lusting after the beast in his zipper, I decided to practice how fast my eyes could run, just in case I’d need a quicky getaway.

My eyes shot off him to a random safehouse, the coffee urn laying on the small table to the right of Robert’s erection-inducing body. I noticed the intricate shades and texture of this 1940′s looking mechanism. The sides looked silver. I also noticed, later than I wished, an alarmingly clear reflection of Robert’s face–and his eyes were looking right at me.

“FUCK! How long was I looking at his bulge, his ass? How long was he noticing?” I thought. I jumped from my seat in a panicky, knee-jerk reaction. I needed to distract. I think my hard-on was obviously breaking out of my jeans. Now I felt my hidden lust was even more transparent. I scrambled for something to say. “Hey, I’m….”

But he stopped the conversation dead, told me, “Alright sweet-pea, time to get to work.” He dismissed me with an austere, commanding expression and a hitchhiker’s thumb, and I walked down to the boathouse feeling dismissed and rejected.

As I walked down the hill my thoughts raced: “He called me “sweet-pea.” Now that is without a doubt some type of sissy put-down because he caught me looking at his body. Or am I misinterpreting? I don’t think so. Why did he dismiss me all of a sudden? Did he see my hard cock bulge? Hey, maybe he didn’t notice I was looking right at his dong?”

As I painted the boathouse, I was getting more worried. “Robert is no dope. He saw me, clearly. He cut me off when I tried to explain, too.” I figured I wouldn’t be working for Robert for long.

“All for being a faggot, a mother-fucking faggot. What’s wrong with me, anyway? Why am I chasing something that I not only can’t have but shouldn’t have, anyway? The gay life is not a viable option for me. And Robert ain’t gay. I need to block Robert from my mind and try to find a girl. I don’t want to give up the fantasy though. But I got to straighten my act out. I’m 20 years old, damnit, and I’ve never fucked a girl. I’m a 20 year old virgin. I need to fuck a girl and forget cock.”

That night I met my high school buddies at McBirdy’s. Rich had been the captain of the high school baseball team and was now playing for Rutger’s, studying pre-law. He had a gorgeous girl he’d been fucking since the tenth grade.

Steve goes to Villanova. He was always into hockey and guitar playing. He’s had several girls over the years. I remember his parents paid for an abortion for one of them when we were only 15.

And Derek is at Steven’s Institute of Technology in Hoboken and a heavy drinker. He was always the computer geek, didn’t have a steady girl, but he had a body that was mouth-watering. I had always fantasized about sucking his nerd cock. At the town pool when we were 13, it was his speedo swimsuit, and the way it would outline his cock and balls, which made me realize I was different from my peers–and very, very horny.

After laughing about old times, chomping on chips and drinking for quite a while, the conversation turned to the upcoming wedding of Derek’s brother. We had all been invited, and I mentioned that my girl is in California, that I’d be going stag. We were all a bit drunk at this point, Derek especially. He looked at me shaking his head. “Dude, who you kidding?”

“What?” I asked.

“Ever since I’ve known ya, your girls are always invisible.”

“The fuck you talkin’ about?” I did not like where this was going. I had been very accustomed in my fraternity to tense moments like these on the sexual interrogation hotseat.

“In high school, you were s’posely goin’ out with some girl, uh, ‘Terri’ in Paramus. None of us ever saw Terri. Hey Rich, you ever see that girl, ANY of Mike’s girls, ever?” He chuckled, snidely. “How ‘bout you Steve? You ever see any of Mike’s alleged girlfriends?”

“Hey, lay off the guy,” said Rich.

“Yeah, what are you doing man?” Steve sounded as firm but more compassionate, and I was hurt by the compassion. It meant pity. It meant they must all have been in agreement over the years about this.

Derek continued. “You guys think the same shit….don’t fucking…now. No, let’s get to the truth here guys, it’s time.” He continued, looking right at me: “Then we go to college and we’re all fucking girls at the lake on our summer breaks and you conVENIENTLY stay faithful to your girl in California. Now, that’s just a bit too noble of ya, dontcha think?”

“Fuck you, ya drunk,” I shot back.

“I may be a drunk, but what are you? Huh? What wouldja call you? I used to see you checking me out on the swim team. Don’t think I don’t memba that shit.”

“Cut it out, Derek!” Steve pleaded.

“Yeah, guys, he used to stare at my cock every day. Then he did it a lot more sneaky like, but I always was hip to it. Fuck, I saw him looking down once off the barstool tonight at my shit. Once it could be an accident. But a hundred times over the years? Come on.”

I felt attacked. My brother makes comments, Robert seemed to be suspicious, and now my high school friends, people I’ve known all my life, were going to cast me out? I couldn’t take the pain any longer. I lunged at Derek, to reclaim some shred of masculinity or dignity.

I got two good shots in, knocked him off the barstool. Rich and Steve started shouting. “Whoa, whoa! Take it easy, Mike!”

Rich held me back in a full nelson while Steve held Derek, who was bleeding at the left nostril.

A few of the locals, drunks and whores, were gathered around holding beers, some smiling at the free show.

I felt Derek humiliated me more than I’d ever been in my entire life. In front of everyone, half of the lifeguards at the lake and half the town, he had no mercy: “You are a fucking faggot! You suck guys’ dicks and you know it! That’s why you ain’t workin’ the lake this year, buddy. The lifeguards heard you were queer. They don’t like faggots checking ‘em out in the showers. Everybody thinks you’re queer! Ask Rich, ask Steve. They have THEIR jobs at the lake, I have MINE!”

“Eat shit you low-life drunk!” I shouted, hoping the bystanders would dismiss his accusations as the delusions of a drunk. Rich pulled me outside. He didn’t have to try hard. I was so embarrassed, he wouldn’t have been able to keep me inside.

Once in the parking lot, I started my car and told Rich I’d be alright. My eye was hurting a bit. “I’m alright Rich. He’s an asshole. He don’t know shit about me. But I’ll be alright.”

“It’s all good, Mike. Give me a call tomorrow.”

“Lata man.” As I pulled out, I asked Rich through the driver’s window, “Hey Rich, that true? You guys weren’t layed off from the lake? You guys are working there?”

His silence hurt more than my eye. I burned a patch of gravel waste into the air, vowing never to set foot in McBirdy’s or the lake again. I couldn’t take anymore disgrace. I was hurting. I was hurting real, real bad. I went home, put some ice on my face, and lay in bed wishing I could disappear. Instead of jerking off and thinking about Robert, I just quietly sobbed.

The next morning I thought about taking the day off, but I felt compelled to go to that peaceful, gorgeous other lake and be with that handsome, rugged stud. Even if I might face more humiliation, Robert’s place seemed to be a sanctuary. After telling my mom that my black eye was from a wild pitch on the ballfield, I started off towards the only place where I felt peace lately.

My mind was so heavy on my sexuality issues that I almost ran off the winding roads of Robert’s town. I thought that maybe I should intentionally do just that, hit a tree and be done with it all. I thought a lot of things.

“I’ve got to, above all else, make a solid committment to be straight. It’s obvious people are wondering about me. It’s time to show these fucks that I’m as straight as they are. Who the hell do any of them think they are? When I get back to college, I’m finding a girl. I should pick up some slut at the lake this week, walk around town with her for everybody to see. That will show Derek, that fucking geek. Maybe I should knock up some townie slut and parade the toothless kid around town. That’ll shut-up these small-town, ignorant fucking assholes.”

I got to Robert’s and walked around back to the deck, where he would probably be putting out some coffee about now, just 5 minutes shy of 0800. “What up Robert?” I spotted him sitting there sipping black coffee, probably thinking about some babe he fucked. He had a black headband draped around the forehead forming a sexy tail. He looked like he was communing with nature.

He was wearing light colored denim, paint-splattered jeans today, tattered converse sneakers for PT and his usual U.S.M.C. t-shirt. He looked so fucking manly and alluring, but I was not going there anymore. “I’m no faggot!”

“What’s doin’ boot?” He spied my face. “Whoa, well, well, well, what the fuck happened to my top dog recruit?”

“Just had to kick some ass last night, that’s all, put some piece of shit in his place.” For a second, I thought I registered disbelief in his eyes. Was I coming on too strong, too overtly masculine?

“Well, I got some chow for us here. Do PT later. Eat, son.”

He had made scrambled eggs and bacon for us, me and the dogs, Laurel and Hardy. They were content down on the grass eating. “They have a stress-free life,” I thought.

I sat on a deck chair facing the lake and gingerly tasted the food. I just wasn’t hungry. I felt so depressed, beaten, defeated. I tried valiantly to remain strong, but I was dying inside. Robert placed himself almost directly across from me, six feet away, leaning sideways against the deck’s railing. I tried not to notice the lump. In those light jeans of his, especially at profile, it was difficult not to spot–and desire–but I tried like hell.

We talked about the day’s upcoming activity. After PT, I’d be sanding the lake pier, getting it ready to be varnished. He told me that one day last year his girlfriend and he were sitting on the pier late at night for a naked swim and both got huge splinters. “Can’t have any of that shit this year, son. That kind of put a damper on pumping the pussy that night.” He laughed.

“Yeah, I know what ya mean. It’s fun taking your girl for late-night swims, pumping that cunt! I do it a lot with my bitch in California. I fuck the shit out of her on the regular.”

I thought I heard breath coming from his nose. Was that a slight laugh? “That’s funny, boot,” he said.

“What is?”

“Your posturing. Hey, you want more coffee?” He walked over to the urn to fill his cup. I made sure not to look at his ass.

“What the fuck does that mean?” I shot back.

“Peace out, son. It’s just funny, hearin’ you talk like that, that’s all.”

How much more pain can one dude take, I thought.

“It’s honestly funny to you?” I implored.

“Whoa, who pissed on your cornflakes this morning?”

“Alright, it’s cool,” I mumbled as I focused on eating, and avoiding additional pain. “Did he think it was funny that I was talking like a macho man, that my ‘posturing’ was the macho talk? Or did he mean that my posturing was pretending that I was with a girl?” I tortured myself for an answer. “What the fuck did he mean by that!”

I thought I would find some solace here today. No such luck. Nowhere is safe. I’m destined to be in misery for the the rest of my life. Will this sexuality shit ever end? In Jersey, in California, wherever I go, I’m doomed to struggle with this. It follows me everywhere, high school, college, McBirdy’s, the lake, my home with my brothers.

We continued eating in silence, drinking our coffee in silence. I sneaked a couple of quick views of his bulge. It looked comforting. He didn’t catch me. “But what’s the difference. He must know, like everyone else, apparently, anyway. I’m such a fucking faggot!”

Feeling overwhelmingly beaten, I tried to articulate how confused I felt about things. I didn’t know how to do it. I just was so fucking hurt and Robert was so very attractive to me. I wanted a connection. I wanted help from this strong, handsome, worldly man. Would he understand?

“Robert,” I began, “what, um…if you, um. Shit, I don’t know what I’m saying. I guess I, well I….Things are not good with me. Things are not good at all.” I looked down, trying to remain strong, but I felt confused, weak and hopeless.

Robert walked towards me and sat right next to me, on my right, on the bench. His leg was almost against mine! I just kept silently looking at the lake. From my peripheral vision I thought he was looking right at me. I didn’t know what to say or what to do. It was a long few moments of anxious silence, aside from the overhead branches cascading the leaves in the wind.

I turned to him for a second to confirm if he was looking at me. He was. I quickly turned. “I’m not doing too good today, Robert. I’m just feeling kind of shitty. I’m sorry I’m sounding like such a pussy today. Maybe I should head on out….I’ll feel better tomorrow.” I stood up.

“Sit down,” he calmly commanded. “Sit down and talk to me.”

I reclaimed my spot, but I must have sat an inch closer to him this time. Our legs were now touching. I had never been this close to him. I was getting very excited, and that was part of my problem. I couldn’t go there. Robert wasn’t gay, nobody’s gay but me. I need a new life or something. But the feel of his left leg pressed against my right, was driving my cock to insanity.

I looked down at my sneakers as I softly spoke. “I just don’t know what to do man, ya know. I have all these people putting demands on me, my friends, my brothers, my fraternity. And I’m real, real embarrassed that I’m appearing weak in front of you. I admire you. I respect you so much. You’re the epitome of a real man. I think the world of you. You’re everything I wish I could be….I mean, I just don’t know what to do, ya know. I just don’t know what to do. I love coming here, it’s peace, it’s excitement, it’s fun. You’re fun. But, now, it’s feeling like every other fucking place, pressure, fucking pressure all the time. I mean, if you were me, what….”

I could tell he was still facing me, studying me. I felt too ashamed to look at him, though. There was a long pause where I just looked out at the lake wondering how my words would be received. I was feeling so desperate, hurt and alone.

And then my spine felt a jolt of unexplained current as I realized a hand was gently placed on my left shoulder. “Ya know, I’m proud of you, son. Look at me.” I was afraid to. I was so open emotionally at this point. I wouldn’t be able to hide my inner-desires if I had to look in his eyes.

We were sitting so close that he’d see everything in a nanosecond. “Robert ain’t stupid. I’m too exhausted to pretend, too tired to fight my massive urges. One second in my eyes and he’s going to know. He’s going to know everything. Will he understand? Will he mock me? I don’t really know him. I know he has brute force and an aggressive nature. He might gay bash me, kill me and toss my body to the lake.”

He shook my shoulder, and somewhat sternly ordered me: “Look at me I said.”

I lifted my head with dread and timidly turned, cautiously turned, to him. When our eyes met, I saw the same stoical, handsome mug I’d fallen for. But I think he looked angry. “The rough, rugged, handsome animal, the on-edge stud, is looking unpredictable. I’m scared shit,” I thought. My eyes were on the verge of welling up with tears. I turned away. I just felt such fear, I knew he could be seeing everything about me, the truth and all of its dark, perverse secrets. “How would he react?”

“This man is trained to size up men and break them down,” I reasoned. “He had to be seeing everything, now.” I was trembling. I grabbed my left knee to stop it from shaking. I looked back at my sneakers. “Once he puts it all together…..that I’m a faggot and I’m in love with him. What the fuck is he going to do?”

There was interminable silence–anxious, cock-hardening, ball-swelling silence. I broke it, finally. “So, if you were me, Robert, what would ya do? What am I supposed to do?”

“Look at me,” he commanded. My eyes returned to his with more fear and more lust, and no strength to conceal either. His gaze went from my left to my right eye and back again before resting on my right eye. In a voice so unlike the animal I’ve come to know, such a soothing, kind voice, these words were given me: “If I were you? If I were you, I’d ask myself what my heart wanted and just go and grab it. What is stopping you–fear? Fear is to be laughed at.”

He paused for a few moments, as I pondered his cryptic words and our eyes stayed glued to each other in cock-teasing mystery. “What exactly was happening? What precisely is he saying? What was he getting from my eyes? I wasn’t concealing anything. My dick was pulsating with excitement. I didn’t cover my hard-on with my hand.” Fear, lots of fear.

“Take what opportunity life presents you.” He paused, then seriously ordered me without emotion, “Look down Michael.” He called me Michael! Not even “Mike.” Only my family refers to me as Michael. I felt encouraged.

“But he wants me to look down? What is there to see but his….WHAT is he asking of me?” I was so terrified and rock hard at the thought of it. “And why is he looking at me for so long? Is he looking at me because he is copying my staring at him? Is it pity? Is he just studying me, like a military man doing reconnaissance? He’s no idiot. I know that for whatever reason for the staring, he is seeing my soul!”

cat-male-sex-toys-5I felt so exposed and embarrassed. But I wanted to reveal my soul to him, too. I felt some trust from his eyes. I did as he said. I took a deep breath and my eyes went down. My eyes went down and I was scared.

My sight landed on his jeans, wrapped so nicely around his built thighs. I followed the smooth denim border between his legs up to his lap.

“Oh my God, his prick is BULGING! He wanted me to look down at his swelling meat. I never saw his delicious mound hard.” I audibly gasped. I looked back up in his eyes with panic, the fear of someone who’s let go of a bridge and knows there’s no turning back.

My adam’s apple gulped in involuntary spasms. We continued looking into each other’s eyes for about a half minute of exhilaration and danger. Robert seemed stoic. I was shaking with fear. I felt Robert’s hand on my shoulder gently lift off and land tenderly on the back of my head, pressing my hair down.

It was the most fulfilling, sexually-charged, and life-changing moment of my entire life. This handsome, kind, brute stud, Lt. Colonel Robert Andrews, U.S. Marine Corps–brought me down.


Chapter 3: USMC Lt. Colonel teaches him to suck.

I loved the texture of his pants on my face. I loved the feel of his mysterious snake through his clothes and its movement on my face. But what thrilled me the most was the smell. I could smell his balls. I knew from jerking off what sweaty balls smelled like. I kissed and kissed his balls and his mammoth lump. I was now off the chair on my knees on the deck in front of him with my face in his crotch, kissing and inhaling. I kissed and breathed his balls for about 20 minutes before he told me, “Time to take the training wheels off, boot, and get to today’s assignment. You’re going to suck my cock.”

He unfastened his belt and pulled down his denim to his ankles, remaining seated. What remained was dark, navy-blue skivvies wrapped around this cum-filled mountain. His legs were tan, built and somewhat hairy. I loved them. I couldn’t wait to explore the mound.

I kissed each leg a few times before resting my hand on the pleasure zone. I felt moisture, no doubt from pre-cum. While staring into the face of this handsome Marine, I slipped my fingers down the elastic of his underwear and gently pulled them down. He lifted his ass a bit to accommodate. Now his underwear, damp to my touch, was resting with his jeans on his sneakers. I could see his wallet sticking out of the top of his back pocket. I noticed his credit cards, I noticed the hair of his calf jutting over his sock. With mouth-watering anticipation, I looked up along his studly legs to my mission, a breathtaking, engorged, mushroom-headed, 8 inch cock. I could barely breathe.

“Go to town, son.”

I didn’t know where to begin. I just started kissing all over. I liked the feel of his pubic hair on my face, the smell of his balls. I liked kissing the head and feeling pre-cum on my lips. With my tongue, I pulled the pre-cum off my lips and brought it to my throat. I liked the salty taste. I went back to kissing the head, then licking the shaft, licking the balls. After familiarizing myself with every facet of his manhood, the smell, the taste, the skin, I settled my lips around the angry head, and with my lips around it went up and down, gently.

“Oh yeah,” Robert softly groaned with both of his hands resting on the back of my head. “Suck my cock, boot, suck that thing. Eat that cock. Oh yeah, oh yeah, fuck yeah, eat that cock, eat that cock, eat that cock.”

I started to gag when I tried to deep throat him. “Relax, relax your throat, Mike. Relax that throat. Relax, give up the control. When a catcher relaxes, the runner slides home. Relax, Mike, relax your throat and let my manhood slide home.”

He was right. Once I relaxed, I could fit his entire shaft down my throat. I was loving that I could deep-throat him. Having this Marine’s entire shaft in my mouth was far more exciting than any of my imagined scenarios in my best, most explosive jack-off sessions. I sucked and sucked and sucked. I cradled his balls with my fingers.

“Hold off a second,” my CO ordered. “I wanna stand over you.”

I kneeled before this handsome, studly U.S. Marine, and loved feeling dominated this way. He was far more manly than I, and it didn’t bother me. I liked surrendering to him, pleasing him, making him feel great.

“Sucking off a man is about pleasing him, son. You want to show your complete servitude. So make sure you look up at the man a lot. I’ll show ya, wrap your lips around my cock now.”

Naturally, I complied. He helped feed the monster to me. “Okay,” he continued, “now as you’re sucking up and down, look up into my eyes.” I obeyed him, happily. “Yeah, that’s it, that’s it. You want to keep looking up at the guy, especially when he blows his load. And if you REALLY want to please the guy, after you look up as he’s dumping in your throat, keep the eye contact as you swallow. He’ll go fucking blue balled, he’ll be ready to pop another bone in you in no time. You can also put a finger up his ass to make him shoot, if you’re impatient for the liquid payoff.”

I continued sucking, barely believing that this was real. Surely, this had to be some dream. I’ve been jerking off to fantasies since I was 12, imagining a day like today. Could this really be happening? Robert retrieved his cock and playfully bounced it on my face with his balls resting on my chin. He would feed me the thick serpent gently, then pull out and then shove it in, fiercely at times, while pushing my head onto it. He liked the game of it.

I could tell he was proud of his body, his cock, and his manhood, and he enjoyed showing off for me, getting served by me. I thought of how proud my dad had been at all my baseball games. If he could see me now, on my knees with the balls of a US Marine in my mouth and a Lt. Colonel’s 8 inch cock bouncing on my face, would he still be proud? It didn’t seem to matter. I was feeling pretty damned good.

I loved the sensation of the hard dick. It was warm, had a pudgy quality. As if a soft texture had been wrapped around a flag pole and my mission was to climb it. It was so hot to see his lower naked body. I asked to see his ass. He turned around and I almost shot a load just looking at how tight and hard and built his butt was. I reached over and kissed the handsome, built ass cheek of this studly Marine.

“No son, that’s tomorrow’s mission.”

“Okay, but could you take off your shirt? I want to see your great body as I suck you, man.”

He was happy to do it. I loved what I saw. What a tight, tan bod, not overly bulky, just tight and masculine, with slight hair on the chest and belly. I got so excited, I jumped back onto his cock, serving him. When he came, he shouted “YEEEEhaw!”

I’m sure the swimmers across the lake heard him. And if they were nearer, they could look up from the water and see from whence it came: a semi good- looking, masculine, baseball loving college dude was on his knees looking up at a Lt. Colonel of the US Marines, as the handsome Marine’s cock was being pumped into the college dude’s mouth.

If those swimmers were nearer, they would have witnessed two people experiencing intense, charged pleasure at the moment of yelling. In that moment one was experiencing one of the most intensely powerful ejaculations he’d ever had. The other was smiling, as warm, globby ejaculate was sliding down his throat.

I sucked Lt. Andrews 4 more times that day, in between PT and my chores. What a fucking unforgettable, day!

As I drove away from Robert’s place, I felt new beginnings. I felt secure and very, very turned on. I put my fist into the air, out of the driver’s side window and hollered out: “YEEEEHaw!!” I heard it echo once and knew that Robert must be smiling, showing those beautiful teeth.

I fell asleep that night, after I jerked and scanned the surroundings of my room–the baseball trophies, the model airplanes, the oak-wood panelling, my high school prom picture on the wall. I thought, “How many times over the years had I gone to sleep among these same surroundings, and felt worry, dread, fear? Tonight, the pictures were there, the trophies were there. But something was markedly different. Tonight I am falling asleep a very, very happy man.”

The next morning was Thursday, and a heat wave had pulled in. The disc jockey of 95.5 WPLJ was saying it would be 98 later in the day. It felt about 85 and muggy already, at 0700 hours. Robert was on the deck with coffee, reading some Native American Folktale book. “Man, he is a character. I’ll have to check out the same book in the library, read up on it and try to impress him with my knowledge.”

“What’s up Robert?”

“Hey son, how are things going man?”

“I’m feeling good, thanks for yesterday man. Thanks a lot.”

“Hey, I’m the one who had my cock sucked raw. I should be thanking you.”

We both laughed. “Well,” he continued, “Today’s going to be a hot muther, but don’t think you’re getting out of PT.”

“Alright. We’ll do it up.”

“Yeah, you’re going to be doing something else, too.”

The pushups, the sit-ups, the lunges, the running. It was done with such pleasure today. I was thinking of yesterday and what might happen today. Robert was looking so fucking sexy. He had those blue cargo pants on from the first day, and a blue t-shirt, with the USMC logo.

After breakfast, he announced the day’s mission and I almost spontaneously shot a load. “I want you to suck my ass, for hours in the hot sun,” he said.

He took me down to the yard, told me to sit against a tree. I was trembling with excitement. We were both dripping in sweat after the PT and the now 85 degree weather. He started to remove his pants. I asked him to wait. “I wanted to push my face into that ass, ever since day one,” I said.

“I know, that’s why I wore the same pants. I knew you were hungering for my ass, from the get-go.” I felt a bit embarrassed by that but dismissed it.

He stood in front of me with that handsome ass at my face. I pushed my face as deep into him as I could and inhaled. I was having a makeout session with his ass, and I loved it. I thought of being in 7th grade playing spin-the-bottle, and how much I hated making out with the scaggy girls. I thought how many years it’s taken me to be really enjoying a makeout session. Here it was, pure pleasure, sizzling, intoxicating pleasure.

I thought of all the handsome studs I’d seen ever since I was thirteen, how many of them I drooled over, how many of their asses I wanted. And here I was with one of the best, right in my face. I creamed in my pants. After 10 minutes of this intensity, Robert warned, “Time for the real deal, son.”

He got completely naked before me. I think he definitely has exhibitionist qualities. I think he was very aware of how he was disrobing and that he was about to fulfill a young college guy’s life-long, raw sex fantasies. I found his feet were even sexy, too. Standing before me, dripping in sweat, semi-hard, with his long, thick shlong swinging, he turned and squatted. With hands on his knees his ass was exposed to my face. “Eat me, knob.”

I kissed his crack, his left cheek, then his right. I spread his cheeks with my hands and got a real good look at his delicious-looking hole. I sheepishly placed my tongue on the hole for a second. “Ah, yeah, do it, boot, get in there.”

I kissed the hole. “Yeah,” he continued, “Oh yeah, you’re gettin’ there. Do it up.”

I then licked the entire crack of his ass and there was a lot of sweat to taste. I swallowed the salty liquid, and when I realized it had come off the ass of Robert, I creamed some more in my shorts. I pushed my tongue into the hole for a second and pulled out.

“Fuck yeah, my man, do it scrub, do it NOW!”

I put my tongue in again and held it for a few seconds before pulling back out.

“Ah, you’re killing me, boot. You found my weakness, my only weakness. Ah, ah, ahhh.” It was kind of funny. I could punch Robert in the gut with all my might and he wouldn’t flinch. But now, just from placing my tongue in his asshole, he’s like putty in my hands.

I put my tongue in again and pulled it out and pushed it back in rapidly, about ten times.

Robert’s voice was sounding unlike him. I never heard him groan like this. “Ahhh, oh yeahhhh, aaahhhhhhh.” I’ve heard folks breathing like this after running a 5K race or having a heart attack on some tv show. Robert was hyperventilating. He was swaying his hips and grinding his ass in my face.

I plunged in, devouring, slurping, inhaling. I moved my tongue in many, many directions.

“Suck on it boot,” he seemed in pain as he said it. “Suck on it, now man, ya dumb shit. Ohhhhhhhh.” I almost felt sorry for him. He seemed to be tortured.

I started to lick his hole. “NO, boot! Please, man, I need,” he seemed exhausted. “I need you to SUCK ON IT.” Beads of his sweat were dropping to the ground.

I continued to dart my tongue in and out and lick him. I guess I got off on having power for once over him.

“You’re torturing me. SUCK IT man SUCK it. Ahh, ooohh, AHHHH suck it NOW!” He reached back and grabbed my hair so fucking hard with both hands. He practically ripped my hair out with both of his manly hands as he shoved my face into him and slammed his ass into my face, banging my head painfully into the tree.

Despite the brutality, I was turned on by the sexual rage. He opened me up to release my own rage. My top lip aggressively attached itself to the top of his rectum and my lower lip had the bottom half. I gummed his hole, pulled it as hard out as I could and stretched it. Robert was deliriously happy: “FUCK YEAH! Ya GOT it man, ya GOT it. That’s it. AHHHHH, do it man, do it knob! Oh yeah, baby. On baby, I’m going to treat you right for this.”

He bent down to whisper by my ear. To an outside observer it would have looked as if he were talking to his balls or trying to blow himself. In a sexy, breathy manner, with the sweat of his face dripping onto my throat, I heard him say, “Oh, oh, oh, yeah, suck that Mike. Put it in there Mike. Get in there good. Oh Mike, you got no idea how much I’m lovin it. Owww, ahhhhh, shhhit, oh, I’m fucking loving this.”

He straigtened back up. He started grinding his hip and his ass into my face harder, faster. His voice got louder. “C’mon Mike, show me whatch got, suck that thing, son!” In a crescendo, his voice became sexier: “Yeah, Yeah, YYEAH, YEAH, GIVE IT TO ME SON! SUCK THAT MOTHER FUCKING ASSSSS!”

As my tongue and lips sucked with all my might, with fury, Robert rhytmically, loudly and ecstatically groaned and chanted for a solid hour: “Do it, do it, do it, do it, suck that hole, suck it, suck it, suck it, oh yeaahhh, aaahhh fucking sweet, ahhh yeahhhhh, suck it, DO it….”

“Let me hear ya son, ya lovin’ it?”

“MMMM” was all I could muster.

“I don’t hear ya scrub.”

“MMMMMMMMMMMMMM.”

cat-vibrators“Fuck yeah, do it man, do it up, do me goooood! Suck that ass dude, suck that hole, man. ” Robert had been wanking himself and turned and came all over me, like a disruptive fire hose, he let the spurt hit everywhere, my hair, right cheek, chest, belly and my lap.

When he wasn’t grinding into me, he’d pull his ass off and then slam it into my face. Off and then slam, harder and harder. With each slam my tongue got in deeper and deeper. And with each slam, I let the force of his ass take my tongue right into his personal space. I loved the sweat and taste. I was eating the sweat off a man’s ass. I fucking loved it, too.

I thought of how disappointed my buddies would be to know I had my tongue up the ass of a US Marine and it was the best sex I’d ever want. But as the song says, “What do they know about this love, anyway?” I was fucking loving it. I wasn’t ashamed. I held onto his firm thighs, anchoring myself, as I continued my mission. I thought of my dad, he’d be disappointed. But I didn’t care. I was out of control. I was liberated, unleashed, let loose. I was a savage animal working on another.

My t-shirt was sticking to the tree sap, Robert’s ejaculate was all over me. His scent, sweat, and ass were all over me as well. For four hours I ate that ass, I sucked that ass, I breathed that ass, I tasted that ass. No shame.


Chapter 4: USMC Lt. Colonel gets rough.

I had spent four hours eating the sweaty asshole of Lt. Colonel Robert Andrews, a ruggedly handsome, quirky stud. I was exhausted, but deliriously excited. It was too good to be true. My tongue had been so far up Robert’s ass that I thought I’d burst a blood vessel in my tongue, the way it maniacally and desperately stretched to go deep, deep into him and explore and swallow his forbidden, restricted zone.

It was Robert who aborted our mission.

“Yo, boot, you better take your tongue out of my ass and get a drink of water. It’s been four hours in this heat that you been workin’ on my insides. On Paris Island you’d be cyanotic by now. You’re gonna pass out.”

“The only hydration I’m looking for is from your long, thick Marine cock,” I boldly told him.

He looked at me with that rugged face and flashed me the shiny teeth.

“Alright, cocksucker, I’ll shoot out another load for ya, just let me take a piss first.” He took a few steps away to piss while I admired his hot, strong ass atop firm, sculpted legs.

I had been stripped down of all my inhibitions. I had actually sucked cock, not just any cock but Lt. Robert Andrews’.

I had tasted another man’s ass, his crack, his hole, the inside of his rectum. Not any ass but Lt. Robert Andrews’!

I was electrified with excitement. It was this frenzy, this savage, twenty-year-dormant undercurrent, brought forth by the overtly savage handsome Marine, which empowered me to say to him what I did.

“Hydrate me with your piss.”

He seemed genuinely taken back. “Whoa, son, you’re a kinky motherfucker! You want me to PISS on ya?” The normally stoic stud now looked uncharacteristically stunned.

“No, of course not. I was just kidding.”

He moved closer to me. I was still sitting against the tree, where he left me in our commingled cum and sweat.

“No, I don’t think you were kidding.” He studied me intensely with that dangerous, steady gaze of his. “You DO want me to piss on you. You’re curious. Son of a bitch, never saw a recruit into that shit. You want to taste old Bobby’s piss.”

I didn’t say a word. I was embarrassed by Robert’s crude and disgusting words. I made a facial expression which I tried to convey You’re nuts.

Robert hovered over me, his cock looming in front of my face.

“Alright boot, I’ll hook ya up.” With that, the warm flow gushed down through his slit onto my face, hair and chest. He was releasing all over me.

“Taste it, man, chow down.” He aimed right for my mouth, which I timidly opened. “Gives new meaning to ‘goin to the head.’”

I wanted to laugh at his joke. But I was too preoccupied thinking of this new adventure and the cock-jumping sensations it produced. My mouth was filling with his warm fluid! My cock was very pleased. At the point where I couldn’t fit another drop, I eagerly swallowed–while looking up at those beautiful eyes and the half smiling, handsome face. I couldn’t believe I had done it.

Never in my life did I even think of another man’s piss, and yet I was so unfettered today, so liberated, so opened up that I happily let the warm piss from another man’s cock envelope my skin, fill my mouth, and slide down my throat.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but I LOVED the taste. It was from Robert’s cock! I think I would have done anything at this point. While I swallowed, Robert finished hosing me down, shaking his impressive meat’s last drops onto my shirt.

I was too excited by all of this. It was one of the few times in life when my hard-on was hurting. I had to release. I got up, unzipped, and violently beat my seven- inch meat before ejaculating in five seconds onto the tree. Robert laughed and watched.

“Damn, son, you are one horny motherfucker.”

“I need to suck your cock, Robert. I need it now.”

“Alright boot, get on your knees.” I dropped to my knees and hungrily waited for Robert to feed me his eight-inch, menacing meat.

“GIVE ME THAT FUCKING COCK, NOW!” I commanded as if I were addressing subordinate players on my baseball team or a new lifeguard crew at the lake.

Robert strutted over to me, looking somewhat perturbed. “Getting’ kind of uppity on your CO, don’tcha think? Alright college boy….I’ll give you my cock. Let’s see how good you are, son. Let’s see if ya learned how to serve a man.”

He grabbed the back of my head with both of his masculine hands and slammed my face down on to his meat. I was smeared into his balls, cock and pubic hair. He then force-fed me his package.

While sturdily holding the back of my head with his right hand and pulling me into him, he used his left hand to shove the empurpled, bitter head of his monster through my lips.

“SUCK MY SUPERIOR OFFICER’S COCK, boy. YOU WANT IT? SUCK IT, CUNT, SUCK IT NOW!”

I gasped and felt I was choking. I needed to remember his tutelage on relaxing the throat to accommodate his powerful member, but the force and speed with which he shoved his power pack into me did not allow much time for preparation. I needed to get my bearings and stop for a moment, just one oxygen-intaking moment. But the ferocious, animal stud–and his unforgiving, menacing beast of an appendage–wouldn’t allow it.

He fiercely pulled my head into him and then just as forcefully pushed me away. PULL, then push, PULL, push, PULL, push. With each PULL, he let out an orgasmic and rhythmic: “HOO-rah, HOO-rah, HOO-rah,” I was gagging and coughing. With each “HOO” he fucked into the back of my throat. With each “rah” he pulled out. He didn’t care about my comfort. It was about getting his rocks off. “HOO-rah, HOO-rah, HOO-rah, HOO-rah, HOO-rah, HOO-rah!”

I started to panic, and with my fists starting pounding his ass, trying to staunch the alarming sexual brutality.

“HOO-rah, HOO-rah….So, you’re gonna order ME, your CO around? You’re gonna tell ME to give you my cock like I’m UNDER you or somethin’? You need to be taught a lesson of respect, son.”

As he spoke he was unrelenting in his assault on the back of my throat.

“Let’s get it straight, I–and only I–give the orders around here.” He was pulling and pushing my gagging and choking head on and off of him with increasing vigor and cruelty. I was on the verge of passing out when he suddenly, mercifully, stopped and threw me off of him to the ground with one last “HOO-rah.”

I gasped for air in a succession of roars familiar to lifeguards who will witness a poor swimmer who’s out of air, seconds from passing out, and finally at the surface. I violently coughed, and lay helpless in a fetal position as leaves and dirt clung to my piss stained clothes and skin. I had saved somebody at the lake one year from drowning. I never thought I would be in this humbling position. Eventually, I caught my breath but not before a few scary moments.

“Robert! You almost choked me to death!”

“Don’t be a pussy, Mike. Your grand daddy could suck cock like that. I told you, you needed to relax, remember? When the catcher relaxes, the third base runner slides home. Damn son, don’t you listen?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t have time to prepare! FUCK. You’re too rough!” I continued reclaiming my respiratory process while trying to recuperate emotionally from the harrowing cock sucking. Robert had actually scared me. I wasn’t so sure I was into this. My cock, however, didn’t seem scared at all. It was raging with pleasure.

“Well, you’ve had plenty of time to prepare NOW, cunt. So quit your bitchin’ or else we’ll have to get stockings and high heels for your bitch ass. Now stop whining and get back to servin’ my meat, son. Show some esprit de corps, show some manhood!”

He ambled over in his stark, animal nakedness. His body was tight, taut, like mine, only sturdier and tanner. My body might be athletic and tight but his reeked of experience as well. His naked visage out in the wilderness harked back to raw, savage eras. To see him naked outdoors in this beautiful, rustic setting made it even more exciting.

I was so turned on to see him approach me. The thick, wavy hair, the rugged handsome face, the chest, the tight abdomen, the firm thighs, the U.S.M.C. tattoos, the bulging calves, the chiseled arms, the green veins, the battle scars!

But it was the epicenter of his manhood that had me transfixed. His Jurassic Era styled meat swaying with his swagger, surrounded by an impressive, intoxicating forest of dark, sinister hair and large, savage balls.

“Okay, are you READY now to suck my cock? Are you SURE you’re ready? I mean, Hell, I wouldn’t want to fuck your mouth if you’re not absolutely READY for it.”

I couldn’t contain my smile at that sarcasm. Robert does have wit–odd and abusive as it is. And, man, does he have a COCK! He has an ASS. He is HANDSOME. He is a MAN. He is a STUD.

“Yes, Lt. Colonel, sir,” I dutifully responded, “this recruit is ready to open his mouth for this superior officer’s cock–to serve him, honor him, and to obey all of his orders without question, and to honor the Corps– Semper Fi.”

I breathed with anticipation, hunger, need, and a tinge of terror. I waited for the brutal military offensive which was about to commence against my mouth. I thought of my throat, my mouth and my tongue all relaxing as much as possible. This visualization helped me because Robert’s pounding of my throat, his invasion of my mouth with his hostile, oversized meat and his brutal shaking of my head, was even more severe this time.

But, just as before, despite the trauma, despite my feigned protestations, I liked it. Fuck man, oh yeah, I liked it, I liked it a LOT.

“Oh yeah, suck that thing, Mike. You like it don’tcha.”

“Mmm, mmm, mmm.”

I was loving the brutality. This strong animal was using my mouth like it was his girlfriend’s pussy. I liked being used this way.

“Suck that cock, baseball hero.”

As he gyrated into my head he was more talkative than usual.

“Pretend my cock is a rifle, son. If my cock is a rifle, then what rank would you earn as cocksucker, huh? Are you a sharpshooter? A marksman? Damn, son. I’m gonna make you a Rifle Expert. Oh yeah, you got it boy, you got it.”

“Mmm, mmm, mmm.”

“Look up at me, sweet-pea, don’t forget about showing me who’s boss.”

I gladly complied.

Our eyes met, his conveying dominance, power, control, and a sense of arrogant victory. Mine, a desire to share my masculinity, a desire to please and a sexual exhilaration all those years of beating off in my bedroom could never equal.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” I rapturously responded as my tongue voraciously lapped the overall hardness of his pole and the smoothness of his skin.

“Oh yeah, boot, suck that thing, suck it now.”

It felt so good to not only be deep-throating Robert but to being manhandled by him. I liked the feeling that Robert was using me as his plaything.

While he pumped my face, I reached up with both hands and caressed his butt cheeks. I loved the feel of the palms of my hand on the cheeks of his ass. I grabbed each cheek hard and squeezed and pulled them apart, then pushed them together.

I liked the way I felt anchored against his assault of my face. I loved having his ass in my hands as I thought of the sensations I had experienced eating his hole. I liked how his hole had felt on my tongue. It tasted salty, it was surprisingly soft on the tongue.

I had a small hair that I had sucked from Robert’s asshole earlier that was stuck in between my left upper wisdom teeth. I liked having a part of him left over in my mouth, a part of him that had been sitting undisturbed on the inside of his asshole, until I had pillaged, rampaged and invaded his hole, taking this odd but exciting keepsake.

That hair became dislodged during the current assault of my mouth. I let it slide down my throat with pleasure. I got more excited as I realized the hair going down my throat was only a prelude to the luscious lava soon to follow.

As Robert continued to assault my mouth and I held my gaze with his piercing, stern eyes, I remembered one of his earlier instructions on the art of pleasing a man, the art of sucking a man’s cock.

I gently pushed my right index finger into his delicious hole. I loved feeling it go into him. I loved that feeling of his tight rectum acquiescing to me, inviting me in and engulfing my finger with warmth.

Robert apparently liked it too. He erupted without warning and his moans could be heard across the lake.

“AAAHHH FUCK, boot, you’re a Rifle Expert, son, a Rifle EXPERT. HOO-rah, HOO-rah, YEEEEE-ha!”

He was still in my mouth when my throat lit up and my hungry stomach welcomed the indomitable, forbidding gusher of his warm, man-juice.

“Okay, NOW I think I could go for some water, Robert.”

cat-anal“Alright, but would you mind just eating my ass for a bit?”

“C’mon, you’re not serious, are you?”

Robert turned and squatted as before, hands on his knees, tight ass upward exposing that inviting, ecstasy-producing portal.

“Life’s a bitch aint’ it? CHOW DOWN, son, CHOW DOWN.”

“This is one exciting day, Robert. One very exciting day. But I don’t know how much I can endure. It’s fucking HOT.”

“No one said boot camp was easy devil dog. Wait till ya see what I’m going to do to your pretty little college baseball-playin’ ass tomorrow. Oh yeah, sweet-pea, just wait till tomorrow.”

His laugh was menacing as my tongue obligingly and enthusiastically returned to the inside of his ass.

The lake echoed with Robert’s exultations of pleasure. But I think he was speaking for both of us. “HOO-rah! HOO-rah! HOO-rah! HOO-rah! HOO-rah!”


Chapter 5: A Marine shows him what manhood is.

I drove home exhausted from the sexual intensity and violation of the day. My clothes, skin and taste buds were sticky and reeking from our commingled ejaculate, juices and raw funk. But I was hard and loving it. As I pulled into my driveway, dad was washing his Beamer. I didn’t want to stop to talk; I was afraid he’d smell the scent of another man all over me. As I held the emergency brake, I thought of Robert’s hard cock in my hand. I thought of how I had taken this stud’s manhood into my mouth. My tool stirred in remembrance of the day, and as I stepped out of the car my dad was waving to me with his movie star smile.

I really love my dad. Always have admired him, always will. In a lot of ways he reminds me of Robert. He’s very handsome and his body is well-developed, not bulky or overly muscular, just manly and taut. I always figured my dad had a big cock because there was always a healthy extrusion in his pants, no matter what type of pants he’d wear. He was wearing khakis today, which usually accentuated his manhood. He was squatting down to dip the sponge in the soapy water when I caught a glimpse of his healthy mound. I wondered exactly what his cock looked like and if he’d ever had a gay thought in his life. I wondered why his and most every other cock I’d looked at hung to the man’s right.

I love him so much, as most sons would, but the thought of him finding out I was gay really scared me. I don’t think I could live if my dad rejected me. “Whatdya say there Mike?”

“Hi Dad.”

“That Marine seems to be working you to death. You look a little under the weather.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad, but today I’m kinda tired. Listen, is Mom cooking dinner tonight? I’m starved.”

“Yes sir. It’ll be ready in half hour. Hey Mike, my associate Bill Levilio has this knockout of a daughter. She came to the office today. She’s home from her first year at Vassar. Would you like to meet her?”

I was accustomed to just about everybody trying to fix me up, but this was kind of unexpected from Dad. I sensed, with dread, that he too was picking up on my taste for a man’s cock, for his ass. “Oh, um, I’m…sure, sometime.”

“Listen Mike, the years are going to go by very quickly. I don’t want you wasting your summers. You know I don’t really poke into your affairs but I think you need to, you know, get out more.” His tone was a little too concerned at this point. I was convinced then he definitely thought there was something wrong, something queer with me! I wondered if he had heard any gossip about my brawl at McBirdy’s or the reason I wasn’t guarding at the lake this summer.

Was he suggesting to me he was afraid I was gay, or was he just afraid I was being too anti-social? Damn, why don’t I just fess up and tell him already. Why don’t I just say the truth, “No dad, I’m not going to date her because I’m not into snatch. As a matter of fact, you want to know how I spent the day? I ate out the ass and crotch and cock of a STUDLY United States Marine! And you know what? I loved it! I loved having my tongue up his ass. I loved swallowing his semen and gagging on his meat. I loved smelling his balls and licking the entire crack of his ass! I loved sucking on his asshole and tasting beads of salty sweat. I loved having him slap my face with his meat and shove it through my lips and pull my head down onto him.

“And tomorrow I’m planning on taking his cock up my ass! I’m planning on getting on all fours and having my boss, this crazy, sexy Marine stud, get behind me and shove his hard, 8 inch, throbbing cock straight up my ass. I want him to fuck me like a bitch! That’s right dad. I want to be moaning and writhing with pleasure as this uber stud, more man than I’ve ever imagined, takes my body and uses it for his pent-up, sexual pleasure. I want to please him dad. I want to smell him, taste him, touch him and give my soul to him. So please stop with this bullshit about insisting I take out your associate’s daughter, just so you can look good at the office and I can look good at the lake. I don’t CARE about that posturing, Hallmark-postcard-life-bullshit dad. I want real fulfillment. I want Robert Andrews to take my ass and bust my cherry. I want Robert Andrews to shove his cock down my thoat and cum! So lay OFF of me once and for ALL!”

“I do alright, dad,” I countered. “But thanks, I’ll um, give her a call sometime.”

“Okay buddy, I just want you to enjoy life.”

“I am dad, believe me, this is a good summer already. Okay, I gotta wash up for dinner.”

Showering was an erotic excursion, as it had been ever since I first lay eyes on Robert. I lubed up my ass with as much hair conditioner as would fit in my hand. Then it was time to take the bottle of shampoo into my muscular, tight, athletic ass. It was a thick bottle so I had to ease it in. With a circular motion I could get it to penetrate. Trying to go straight in just hurt like hell. But as I did the circular bit with it, it felt good and the bottle started to slide in.

I didn’t realize how sensitive and what a turn on my own ass could be! Once I got the bottle in about two inches, I stopped. It hurt too much to continue so I just pumped gently in and out. I moaned with pain and pleasure, and, as I’d done a zillion times that summer, I played with my well-endowed, envy-of-the-locker-room-monster while envisioning Robert fucking me senseless. The hot water from the shower enveloping my tight, baseball player physique became Robert’s ejaculate. That vision caused me to spunk violently; my explosion knocked over a nearly empty bottle of Herbal Essence conditioner. My drip splattered the tiles as my thoughts fixated on Robert’s menacing meat. “What would tomorrow be like?”

At dinner, the conversation was about my oldest brother Mark’s accomplishments in law school. He had won an award for best trial attorney and my parents were very excited to share this news. But their enthusiasm seemed to foretell something else. Nobody could be that excited over one award.

“Boys,” my mother beamed. It was my 17 year old brother Tommy and my 15 year old brother Jason and me listening. “Your brother Mark and Wendy are engaged!”

“Wow, that’s great,” I luke-warmly offered. before silently mouthing “asshole.” I was getting tired of Mark always being the center of attention. Why is he the golden boy? Because he fucks pussy? I’m sick of the unfairness of it all. I’m way better at sports than he is, I’m better looking, have a much better body, and I’m even smarter. But my dad seems to cream in his pants over everything Mark does. Mark this, Mark that. What about ME? Ever since I stopped pitching no-hitters, and ever since I’ve not been seen in the company of any steady girl my dad has decided Mark is the favorite son.

“Awesome!” Jason, enthusiastically, answered.

Tommy’s input was a bit more irreverent than mine: “She knocked up?”

My mom admonished him: “Oh Tommy, that’s horrible!”

“No, weddings are horrible,” I thought. I never liked them. I always had to find a date and they just made me uncomfortable all around. I guess the part about having to catch the garter belt, “All single men onto the dance floor,” that type of shit. It just seemed pointless and discomforting. No wonder they usually had open bars. People needed them to escape from these bizarre carnival rituals. Oh well, I’ve gotten through lots of friends’ and cousins’ weddings. I’ll get through this one, too.

I thought of Derek’s brother’s upcoming wedding. I’m definitely not honoring my R.S.V.P. after the fight at McBirdy’s. I still feel ashamed, but at the same time I want to say to them, “You’re RIGHT. I DO like cock! Yes, Derek, I HAVE checked out your package a thousand times over the years and beat my meat dreaming about you sitting on my face. And when I slept over one weekend in the 8th grade, I ejaculated in your bathroom while I had a pair of your worn underwear sitting on my face. That’s right man. I was smelling your used underwear, and getting off on the aroma of your testes. I came hard that night, Derek, REAL hard, as I sucked the sweat out of your underwear and shot upwards onto your Mom’s new hand towels. And Derek, guess what, I’m currently blowing a studly Marine, handsomer and more man than you’ll ever be. I was on my knees today as a matter of fact, submitting to him, placing my tongue inside his ass and swallowing his semen. And I LOVED it.”

“Earth to Mike, earth to Mike,” my dad brought me back.

“Sometime next year will be the big day,” my mom continued. “The exact date isn’t set, well, he only gave Wendy the ring last night.”

“When are YOU getting married, Mike?” I wasn’t sure if Tommy was zinging me or genuinely wondering. He was at the age where he’d either be fingering pussy or sucking his first cock. Fortunately for him the former applied to his life. He’d have no reason to have his heart in his throat in the boys’ locker room, terrified that he might pop a woody at the sight of his buddies’ equipment. He would have no fear at his senior prom that his pseudo date might want some apres prom activity besides coffee at a diner and a goodnight kiss. He might not be the all-star I was in high school with local reporters treating me like Derek Jeter, but, for the absence of the sheer hell that being gay can be, Tommy had it made.

I answered his nuptial inquiry with a standard good offense, making em laugh: “Whenever I find someone as sexy as Pamela Andrews!”

“Anderson,” Jason rejoined.

“What?”

“Anderson, Pamela Anderson. You said Andrews.”

“Anderson, whatever, pass the potatoes.”

Shit, my dad knows that Robert’s last name is Andrews. I hope he didn’t pick up on my Freudian slip.

My dad and mom laughed. “Well Mike,” dad answered, “You’re not going to find Pamela Anderson by hanging out with a sweaty Marine all day. (DID he pick up on it?) All work and no play makes Mikey a flaky guy.”

Flaky is a euphemism for gay, isn’t it? He studied me, and at that moment I was positive that he knew. He knew my love for cock! He knew my love for the smell of Robert’s balls, for the taste of Robert’s ass. He knew my passion for all things male, my own handsome athletic body, Robert’s handsome body, and the manly manner in which we explore and pleasure each other.

My thoughts raced as I gulped iced-tea: “Yeah, you’re right Dad. I LOVE the masculinity of Robert. I love my own masculinity. I even love yours Dad. Although not consciously, on some forbidden, hidden level that only reveals itself in my fucked up dreams, I want your cock and balls and ass too! I have fantasized about you dad. I’ve checked out your hefty mound in your pants since I’m 12.

“At first I admired it, thinking how much I wanted my cock to grow someday to that size. Now it has. But I’m still checking you out, and I’m thinking of your cock when I sleep. In my dreams I’m swallowing your semen, dad. I wake up so ashamed and disturbed by it, but I also wake up GRANITE HARD, harder than I ever was until I met Robert. How do you like that, Dad? Not only is your All-Star player son a cocksucking queer, but on some level that I deny I probably would love to kneel before you, my own father, yes, you dad, and suck your bulging, elongated, superior prick. I’ve watched your ass, and on a conscious level told myself how muscular it was, but on a dream level I know, deep down I shamefully know, that I want to push my face into that ass!

“I would probably want you, Dad, to bend me over and plow me. I would like, on some level, to feel your stubble on my face as you kiss me and shove your tongue into my mouth as you force your cock into my ass. So stop with your Matchmaker, Matchmaker find me a girl bullshit! What part of I want COCK don’t you understand? I want Robert’s semen. I secretly want YOU to fuck the living shit out me. I want you to ejaculate onto my face and in my mouth. I want you to pull me, your second born son, down onto your massive organ. I want you to brutally slap my face with your leaking, manly tool, pummelling my face with that raw, savage meat again and again and again.

“I want you to take the back of my head and shove me down, shove that taboo cock of yours into my mouth and skull fuck me till I’m choking and in tears of incestuous regret and sexual ecstacy! I am so crazy in love with Robert because subconsciously he reminds me of YOU. I LOVE YOU DAD! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU! And I can’t stand the thought of you rejecting me! I can’t stand your aloofness; I’m feeling you’re ashamed of me. It’s killing me how we’ve lost our connection.

“I’m as good as Mark, damn-it! Please, dad, ask me to play catch with you, let’s go to the old field and just hit some out to each other, just you and me. Let’s go fishing together. Come on dad, punch me in the arm, put me in a little headlock and tassle my hair, squeeze my shoulder, wrap your arms around me. Tell me you’re incredibly proud of me, that I’m your favorite son, that you love me. Tell me you don’t care if I’m gay!” “I’m not a flaky guy, dad,” I said it facing him, clearly condemning his choice of words with its nasty implication. “Just ’cause I’m working a lot of hours, I don’t think that makes me a flake. I told ya, the guy pays me good money, twice what I was getting guarding at the lake. I still have a social life, don’t worry ’bout me, dad.”

“Alright son,” he responded yet I felt a challenge coming on. “Just let me know when I can tell my associate when you’d like to meet her.”

OH WOULD YOU GET OFF MY FUCKING CASE, ALREADY!

“Sure Dad, maybe next weekend, if she’s hot.”

After dinner, Rich called me and asked if I’d like to go see a movie. He was very warm over the phone. He really has been a great friend, ever since we met in the second grade. I really appreciate how considerate he’s been to me since the infamous brawl at McBirdy’s. I really just felt like staying home, playing XBOX and jerking off, replaying Robert in my head. But I wanted to keep the lines of communication open with my old buddies. I didn’t want them to think that what Derek said was true, that I was some faggot who has become an anti-social loner.

So I told Rich I’d meet him at the multiplex. We’d be seeing “Spiderman.” He’d undoubtedly be lusting for Kirsten Dunst and I’d be sure and make a point of saying how “nice” her tits were. Secretly I’d be finding Toby cute in his tights. Going to the movies with Rich was the most socializing I did since the brawl night. I was being worked hard all day (not just sexually!) and hanging home suited me fine. But I did appreciate Rich’s friendship. It helped assuage my nagging feelings of being an isolated queer.

After the movie and some bullshitting with Rich about the state of Steinbrenner and his New York Yankees, and how a lot of people missed me at the lake this year (Was he serious or just being kind?), I went home and jerked my meat. Toby didn’t do much for me in his tights. I couldn’t stop thinking of Robert. Damn, his whole being was shaking me to the core. And tomorrow I’d be surrendering my ass to him!

I woke up earlier than usual the following morning, perhaps due to my exhilaration and anticipation of the rite of passage I’d be partaking in that day. It’s not every day that a man gives his ass up for the first time to another. When I said “See ya later” in the morning to my dad, I thought how heartbroken he’d be to know what I was off to do. He’d be devastated to know how much I was hungering for it to happen. NOTHING was going to stop me from taking Robert’s cock in my ass, and NOTHING was going to stop me from loving every minute of it. The guy’s mug? The guy’s solid, manly, body? C’mon, this was going to be the most exciting thing I’d ever done.

I wondered how Robert would do it. I drove west along Rt. 80 towards my dripping fantasy, with Creedence on the radio, my left hand rhythmically tapping the steering wheel to “Proud Mary” and my right hand softly consoling my volcanic bulge. My cock had been painfully alive ever since meeting Robert but the anticipation of today was just about killing me.

When I arrived, I spotted the stud doing crunches on the back lawn with Laurel and Hardy wrestling each other.

“Hey, Robert. What’s doin, man.” The dogs ran to greet me and licked my hands and face.

“What’s up, boot. Let’s hit the morning drill. You gotta get your stats up to speed.”

“Okay, man. I’m up for anything.”

“In the Marines we run 6 miles every day before breakfast. I want to see you increase your speed today on that.”

I was up for it, not quite as fast as Robert’s average speed of 6 minute miles, but I could run a mile in about 8 minutes. That always impressed my teammates. Unfortunately, it didn’t do much to impress Robert. He insisted I could do better.

I wanted to please this guy. I just loved roughing it with him. So I enthusiastically began this summer day running. “Today would be the day he fucked me! I’ll run as long as he wants for that!”

We ran in silence along the perimeter of the lake with the only sounds being our breath, crunching twigs and the morning singing of various birds. It really was a great way to start the day. I liked that Robert was jogging close to me. I got off on his body, its rugged animal stature, and his heavy breathing. His ass looked more than delicious in his black basketball shorts. My own heavy breathing had more to do with the bulge in his shorts and his big legs than from the jogging. I enjoyed how thick they were. His calves, thighs and buttocks were destroying me.

Robert increased his speed and challenged me to keep up with him. “C’mon, boot, let’s see whatcha got.” He sprinted ahead of me like some 11th hour marathon winner. I was in complete awe. I tried my damndest to catch him.

We ran at top speed for the next 15 minutes before I needed a break. Damn, there was no stopping Robert. He was some type of robotron, bionic man. I felt kind of weak, even impotent in comparison.

“Okay, sugar britches, we’ll take a little break.”

“Real funny. Hey, I still ran prob’ly 10 mph consistently.” My hands were clasping my squatting knees as I tried to regain my breath. I spit up some saliva.

“Yeah boot, but you got a ways to go, bro.” I was amazed how his breath was so stable. “This dude is a fucking machine!” I thought.

He walked ahead of me. “When you catch your breath, catch up to me.” And the stud was gone.

“Ah, shit, this fucking guy is kicking my ass!” I uttered aloud as I raced after him.

I finally caught up with him 15 minutes later, but only because he had stopped and was laying on the grass shirtless and sunbathing. “What took you so long, boot?”

“Don’t get so cocky, Robert. By the end of the summer I’ll be kicking your ass.”

“Yeah, what summer we talkin’ ’bout, son. Ya can’t be meanin’ THIS year!”

I playfully motioned to kick him and he grabbed my leg with lightning speed. Before I knew it I was on my gut with this stud on my back. I felt his chin and stubble on the back of my neck. His warm breath spoke: “Respect your CO, boot. That wasn’t very nice.” He started twisting my arm. “Say Uncle. Tell me I’m the man.”

“OWW, why do you always gotta break my fucking balls?”

“Why do you always gotta suck mine?”

“You’re hurting my arm, dick!”

“Tell me I’m the man.”

“You’re the man.”

“Tell me I’m the man with the baddest cock.”

“Ahhh…”

“Tell me, knob, or I’ll snap your arm.”

“You’re the man with the baddest cock!”

Robert laughed and released me from whatever psycho, military, karate maneuver he had me in. He couldn’t, however, extricate me from the grip his whole being had on my system. Yeah he did rough me up, yeah my arm did hurt a bit, but I was excited. FUCK, I was excited. My hard-on wasn’t lost on him either. “Damn son, if your athletic stamina could match your cock’s, you might be a soldier some day.”

I was embarrassed. I didn’t want him thinking that sucking his cock was all I wanted to do. I genuinely liked Robert’s company. I admired him and wanted to hang out with him as much as possible. Maybe he wouldn’t like me if he thought I was just about sucking him off.

“Boot, let’s have some fun. Let’s walk up the hill.”

I followed the Brute and was transfixed on his ass and the muscular tension in his legs as he climbed the fairly steep incline of treet roots and vines. I wondered where he was leading me, why he was leading me. “Did he want to fuck me right here, outdoors?” My cock dripped and danced with anticipation.

When we got to the top, I marveled at the panoramic view. There were no houses around for at least 3 miles. It was quite an anomaly for a State so accustomed to suburban sprawl. “This is so fucking awesome.”

“Yeah, I like it. Okay, get your clothes off.”

“Damn, you’re quite the romantic.”

Robert removed his socks and sneakers and his watch and placed them by his shirt. He looked so hot, just wearing his loose shorts which pronounced his mouth-watering bulge. His tan, tight chest was glistening with sweat. I loved the little bit of hair he had in the center and his torso’s hairline which led south to the top of his shorts. I loved the extruding veins in his forearms, which made the U.S.M.C. tatoo on his right arm even sexier. I even admired his nicely shaped and short fingernails.

I removed my clothes too, all but my shorts as Robert had done.

“What are we doing, Robert?”

He laughed. “You’ll see.” I watched him jump up and grab a tree limb, pull himself over on it and shimmy over to a ledge. On that ledge there was a long and thick rope hanging from another, taller tree.

Before I could process what the Animal was probably going to do–and what he undoubtedly and unfortunately would then want me to do–he was airborne. As he catapulted himself off the mountain, this handsome Marine hollered “HOO-RAH, HOO-RAH!” and plunged at least 40 feet, creating a mushroom sprout of cold, morning water.

I was stunned and yelled after him, “NO he DIDN’T! He is fucking OUT OF HIS MIND! WHAT the fuck is WRONG with this guy?”

“Robert! You alright?”

I knew he was alive, because I heard him come up. “YEEE HAWW, DAMN, now THAT’S the way to wake up in the mornin!”

I watched in awe as this dripping wet, exhilarating stud ascended the mountain. His body was a vision of rugged, natural manliness, solidly built. A real man’s body, not a gym bunny’s. I couldn’t take my eyes off of his thick legs and his cock, which bounced in his shorts as the wetness outlined his manhood and made my mouth water.

When he was back atop the mountain I just shook my head at him. “You’re one fucked-up, crazy ass, motherfucker, Robert.”

“What’s crazy about living life, boot?”

“Nothing. That’s why you’re crazy, because you coulda ended your life!”

“Sugar britches, you’re sounding like a city boy. I’m gonna put some adventure in yourself yet. Now quit your bitchin and let’s get goin.”

“Okay,” I answered as I started to retrieve my sneakers.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whattaya doin?, he commanded.

“You just said, ‘Let’s go,’ so I’m getting ready,” as I started to put my socks on.

“I meant ‘Let’s go,’ as in ‘Now it’s your turn.’”

OH HELL NO, YOU AIN’T SERIOUS. “I ain’t doin’ that shit for nothing!”

“Don’t be a pussy, Mike.”

“I’m not a pussy.”

“Then climb up the tree and do it. C’mon, I’ll help you. I’ll guide you. Nothing’s goin’ a happen to ya. I gotch your back.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.” I wanted to plead with him: Can’t we just go back to your loft bedroom and you ram your cock up my ass and make out with me?

Robert extened his cupped hands for my foot, to boost me up the tree. “I can do it myself,” I answered, and with a sigh that could only be read as “WHY ME?” I began the climb.

Robert had one of the widest, handsomest, shit-eating grins I’d seen on him yet. “Aw c’mon, boot. You’re gonna LOVE it.”

As I climbed the tree, he pinched my ass. It was funny how playful this guy could be at times. I couldn’t decide if he was 35 or if he was 12, if he was the most awesome spectacle of renegade man I’d ever met in my life, or just a complete, fucking, infantile psycho.

He followed me up and shimmied across the branch with me. When I pulled myself up I studied the rope. “How old is this rope, Robert? Are you sure it won’t break?”

“Who knows?”

“THAT’S NOT FUNNY! I ain’t doin’ it, no way!”

He laughed. “No, I meant I don’t know how old the rope is, but I do know it will hold your sweet, college-boy ass.”

The water looked so far down and so far outwards that my knees started to tremble. Robert tried to quell my nerves. “Look, boot, I’ve done this a billion times, you’ll be alright. Now reach high up on the rope, and just jump. The most important thing to remember is to not let go too soon or you’ll land on the rocks below. I don’t wanna scare you, but you gotta remember that, do not let go of the rope until you’re clear of the rocks and sand and you’re well over the water.”

My knees started trembling even more. “No, Robert I can’t do this, I’m serious man.” I almost was crying I was so afraid of the height and the danger.

Robert placed his arm around me and rested his manly hand on my shoulder after gently squeezing it. “Looka me dude.” I turned to him and thought of the time he had kindly said the same thing, how he had asked me to look down at his big balls and bulging cock. But now he wasn’t suggesting I enjoy his cock in my mouth. This was about sheer hell, terror and anxiety.

He read my fear. “I ain’t lettin’ nothing hurt ya, boot. You’ll be alright and you’ll thank me in a few minutes. Fear is to be laughed at.”

Looking into his brown eyes just made me think of kissing him, smelling him, having him fuck me. “Couldn’t I just suck his cock and please him that way,” I wondered.

“You can do this, my man.”

“Maybe he’s right,” I thought. “I’ll be laughing in a few minutes and tonight I’ll be taking Robert’s cock in my ass. So let’s do this!”

I held tightly to the rope and remembered what Robert said about not letting go until I cleared the rocks. I hoped that I didn’t panic. “What if I didn’t let go at all of the rope? I’ll probably just come back and slam into a tree. That wouldn’t be as bad as falling 40 feet onto rocks, would it? Oh shit, my thoughts were sabotaging me.”

“BOOT, YOU GOTTA MISSION TO DO! I TOLD YOU WHAT TO DO, NOW DO IT! GO!”

“Okay, okay. Don’t rush me.”

“The longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be. Do you want me to push you?”

“NO, don’t push me. I’ll go, I’ll go, just give me a second.”

“C’mon, I’ll count to five and then I want you off the mountain. He sounded a bit jocular now: “If you do it on five, I’ll let you blow me. Would you by chance be the type of college athlete interested in cock? Are you the type of ball player that would go for a Marine’s cock pounding your face and ass, leaving you filled at both ends with his hot load?”

He made me laugh. That eased my sheer terror just enough for me to lift my feet. I was OFF! “Oh shit!,” I thought. I was supposed to impress Robert with my bravado and yell out “Hoo-rah,” like he did, but I was too fucking paralyzed with fear. “Okay, now I’ve cleared the rocks,” I noticed. Robert bellowed behind me “Now, boot, let go!” and I threw the rope from me and plunged.

As I was suspended in mid-air, 40 feet above the lake, I thought of my upcoming 21st birthday, what a milestone that date is for people. I was proud of myself at that instant. I was an adventurer! And I was happy that I was impressing Robert. But those exhilarating thoughts were quickly supplanted with sheer terror as I fell FORTY FEET into the frigid water. Once I hit the water, cold as it was, I was in my element. I was at peace. I felt accomplishment, pride. I couldn’t wait to get up and climb the mountain and be congratulated by Robert. Damn, I liked him!

As my mouth took its first breath upon resurfacing, I heard Robert laughing from above. “YEEEhaw! BOOOT! Ya did it, bro! Lemme hear ya, guy, ‘HOO-RAH’!”

I answered him with my fist in the air, almost as enthusiastically: “HOO-RAH! HOO-RAH! HOO-RAH!”

When I reached the top I was met by one studly, smiling Marine. “Great job, boot.”

“Thanks, Robert, thanks, man.” I shook his hand and half hugged him, the way 2 Marines would upon completion of a dangerous reconnaissance mission.

But this wasn’t any ordinary Marine situation. I wanted to express my gratitude to Robert for helping me conquer my fear and providing me with an incredible rush, an incredible adventure, and an incredible sense of accomplishment.

I dropped to my knees and again said, “Thanks, Robert, thanks, man.”

He picked up his que and strutted over to me. With each step toward me, I saw his shorts tenting outwards more as his manly meat responded to my being on my knees. When he was in front of me he gently patted the top of my head and stroked my hair. Then both hands were on my head, gently encircling me. My scalp felt the warmth of his strong hands. My cock sprang to life. Robert let his shorts drop to his knees before kicking them to the side.

He was completely naked now. This rugged, manly animal before me was starkly naked, defined, glistening and tantalizing. His cock was at full attention. And instead of forcefully skull fucking me, as I had always liked and as Robert was more than inclined to do, he gently placed his long, thick dick in my mouth and gently pulled my face onto him.

Even his words were gentle and soothing: “I’m proud of you, boot, you did great. Suck that thing, man, oh yeah, take it all in. You deserve it, man. Take it all. Get that tongue all around. Taste and lick anywhere you want. You deserve it man. I’m so proud of you.”

I was so happy to hear this approval and admiration from Robert. He’s a man of few words, usually stoic and none too quick with a compliment. And here he was praising me and almost tenderly feeding me his dripping cock.

cat-dildosI wanted to please him in gratitude. I deep-throated him as best as I could. I tried my hardest not to gag on this massive bone. I wanted to suck and slurp and serve him without the hassles of gagging. I remembered his advice at our first session, my intro to cock-sucking: “When the catcher relaxes, the runner slides home. Relax, Mike, and let my cock slide home.” I relaxed as best as I could and I was amazed how I could fit his entire appendage into me without gagging. It worked! I was relaxed and as a result I got to taste so much more of him and he got to experience so much more pleasure.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Robert whispered as he seemed to approve of my technique. I swirled my tongue around his head very quickly as my lips gently encircled the shaft. I slowly went down and up, down and up. I heard Robert’s moaning and thought how he was mirroring my own. I only stopped occasionally for air, but I was enjoying sucking and tasting him too much to stop altogether.

And it pleased me as much as he to do as I was taught that first cocksucking session. I looked up at him. It was so fucking hot to be standing in front of this tan, sweaty Marine stud and looking up at his face, into his eyes as I served his meat. My eyes followed his manly pubic hair, up his torso along the thin line of hair, past the patch of hair at the center of his manly chest, up to his manly neck, its delicious Adam’s apple, his lips and his manly, recently grown, short mustache. I looked right into those handsome brown eyes and I spontaneously came.


Chapter 6: The Lieutenant teaches him how to take cock.

As I continued to suck his cock and look up at him, his expression was stoical on the surface, which was such a manly turn on, but there was appreciation and gratitude in his eyes. Those eyes were appreciating me as a friend, as a buddy, for trusting him and jumping off the cliff. They conveyed respect for sucking him and subordinating myself to his supreme manhood.

I was honored to serve this stud. As his cock touched the back of my throat, our eyes were locked in mutual, tacit expressions of thanks and admiration. My cock swelled again at his intense gaze. His eyes were filled with lust. I think we both were on the same page at one point; when my finger started to enter his tight ass, he half nodded. He knew what I wanted, he knew the technique he had taught me that first day, and he knew he wanted to fulfill my carnal desires at that ball- swelling moment. And he had desires of his own. He wanted to jizz down my throat as much as I wanted him to fill me. Our eyes stayed locked in mutual understanding of the animalistic symbiotic ritual about to take place.

And when it happened, we both were in sexual ecstasy. Our eyes stayed fixed on each other, silently exchanging admiration and respect and gratitude. My eyes were drunk with pleasure. I had been satiated. Robert’s eyes went wide with joy as his voluminous secretions dumped into my all-abiding, ravenous mouth. And our eyes conveyed rapture to each other as his warm, delicious load slid down my throat. He was pleased, and I was delirious to have been looking deeply into his eyes when I swallowed.

I was pleased also to know that this Marine stud, trained in studying people, was able to read my eyes: “You are the man, Robert, thank you so much for being my buddy, for helping me out of my shell, for helping me have the most fun I’ve had in my entire life. Thank you Robert for the privilege of your cock and its soothing semen. And I can’t fucking wait until I give you my ass for the first time, tonight. I can’t fucking wait until I’m on all fours and you are pounding my ass and cumming up my chute.”

We jogged back to base in silence. It had been the most fulfilling morning I’d ever had. I was empowered. I boldly taunted Robert, “Hey Robert, see if your wimpy ass can beat me back to the base. The loser, which will be you of course, has to feed the winner breakfast.”

“Every forkful!” I added before dashing off, faster than I’d ever run in my life. I wanted to impress him and I felt stronger than I’d ever felt. I thought for sure I’d beat him!

“SHIT,” I thought. The fucking animal, robotron, Brute blew past me like the Road Runner from Bugs Bunny. By the time I raced across the finish line, Robert was smirking by the skillet on the terrace. “Hey Dickhead, start cooking!” He laughed, absolutely guffawed, as I begrudgingly fulfilled the bet.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just wait, hotshot. By the end of the summer, I’m gonna kick your fucking ass!”

“Bring it on, Boot, bring it on.” His laughter was sexy.

After breakfast I spent the day doing various yard duties like cleaning out the boathouse and organizing Robert’s tools in the garage. At 5:30 we enjoyed a nice dinner on the terrace. Robert threw 2 hefty steaks on the grill and we made our own Philly Cheesesteaks. I helped cut up the peppers and onions and thought how cool this day had been. We sat across from each other on a table for two and I felt really comfortable being me. Robert knew all about me. I didn’t have to put on aires, or worry about him prying and finding out I didn’t have a girlfriend. I didn’t have to worry that he would cast me out for being gay. It was nice to feel this. I felt peace. I felt I belonged, sitting across from this stud with his signature U.S.M.C. t-shirt.

A summer storm was brewing. The claps of thunder were getting closer as the greenish sky suggested a hailstorm approaching from the west. Laurel and Hardy were not responding well to the thunder. Ears erect, they barked incessantly. I always enjoyed a good storm though. “Hey, to the storm,” I said to my fellow adventureman. And we clinked our Corona bottles.

He looked sternly at me. “Yeah, to the upcoming storm. I think it’s gonna be pretty intense.”

He kept looking at me and my heart skipped a beat and I swallowed hard. Sometimes Robert scared me. This was one of those times.

Maintaining his gaze, he continued: “I’m glad you conquered your fear, boot. Glad you accomplished it, bro.”

“Thanks man.” Our Corona bottles clinked again in solidarity.

Robert’s voice got lower, very serious. “What else do you want to do?” He sounded like a psychologist addressing his subject.

I ignored the weight of the question and answered innocently: “Oh, you know, there’s lotsa stuff I’d like to do. I love to ski, maybe I’ll try snowboarding.”

“Uh, huh, what else?” His eyes were burning right through me. “What else?” he asked again.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what you want to do?”

“Well, there’s lotsa things I guess.”

“Gimme some of em. What fantasies do you have?”

I laughed. I was getting a little uncomfortable being interrogated by Robert. He’s quite an inimidating dude. “I don’t know.”

“You know. C’mon, everybody knows their fantasies. Talk to me.”

“Well, I wish I was a major league professional baseball player. Making millions of dollars, signing autographs and shit.”

“What else?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know. You know what you fantasize about. What you want. What you’re hungry for. What you want real, real bad.”

“I have some sexual fantasies. Hell, we all do.”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t know….”

“Tell me.”

I paused. I was feeling scared at his tone. Scared to reveal my innermost desires.

“Well, I have one silly, queer fantasy.”

“What is it?”

“It’s stupid, it’s a real queer, faggot-ass type thing.”

“Try me.”

“Well,” I paused and then realized Robert wouldn’t rest until he heard my fantasies, so I began. “I sometimes think I’d like to get pulled over by a cop. He asks me to get out of the car and looks me up and down, tells me he’ll let the ticket go if I make it worth his while. He then rubs his prick. Then he unzips and I suck him off while he leans up against the car. Then his buddy comes over and fucks me in the ass while I’m deep-throating the first cop. Then we switch positions and I suck the other one while the other one fucks my ass.”

“It’s not a queer fantasy. Stop putting yourself down. It’s a fantasy. And a valid one. What else?”

“I think about my high school coach and how many nights I beat my meat thinking of him. I wanted him to take me down in the showers, punish me for letting a runner score during a playoff game.”

“Another one, keep going.”

“I saw a picture once of some dude online, handsome fucking face. Not soap opera or nothing, just real, real ruggedly handsome. He had a personal webpage. The guy makes boats for a living. Anyway, his face just killed me when I saw him. I fantasize about him and just treating him right, ya know.”

“What do you mean, ‘Treat him right’?”

“Well, you know, I wanna just really get with him.”

“And do what?”

“Why are you so fucking nosy, man?”

“You need to open up, Mike. Now what exactly do you want to do with him?”

“I don’t know, I mean, well. I’d like to give him a massage. I know it’s silly. But it’s my fantasy, damnit. I just would like to massage him, rub his shoulders, neck and back real good. Work his whole body. I’d like to work his shoulders real good while I eat his ass. I would get off with my face near his cock. I’d love to smell his balls and feel my cheek against his pubic hair. I’d like to suck his cock and bury my nose into his belly button, while his rod dumps hot cum into my throat. I really like his face. I’d love to kiss it and make out with him.”

Robert listened like he was my doctor. “Okay,” he said.

“I know it’s queer as all hell, but I’d love for him to fuck me. Don’t even know ‘em, but I want him up my ass.” I laughed at the absurdity. “That’s crazy, no? I mean, I really wanna feel that dude’s cock inside me. I’d like to feel that guy’s manhood in me. I’d like to wrestle him wild.”

Robert didn’t respond. He just listened.

“I’d like to be friends with this boatman. He reminds me of the kind of dude I grew up with, the kind I’m friends with and secretly lust after.”

“So, maybe that’s why you got it bad for him.”

“Why?”

“Because you just said he reminds you of people you grew up with, people you’re friends with but secretly lusted for. Well, you have a thing for this handsome stranger because you know he’s gay. And since you know he’s gay you know that if you were friends with him he wouldn’t judge you. And that would make you feel good. Because you feel judged by your peers. Don’t you, Mike? You’re afraid of them, afraid if they knew that good ol’ Mike likes to get fucked up the ass, good ol’ Mike likes to swallow men’s cum, they would reject you. This boatman wouldn’t reject you.”

“Well….I don’t know….” “Wow,” I thought, “Robert is really getting in my head. He’s making sense, I think. But I’m not sure I want to open up like this.”

“Okay, you’re opening up, less with the put downs, anyway. Go on. What else.”

“And I wish I could blow my buddy Derek, even though he was mean to me. Fuck, I’d blow him right now if he asked me. Yeah, he humiliated me. Yeah, he wrecked my reputation. But, damn, if we’re talkin’ fantasies? Hell, if we’re even talkin’ TRUTH, the sad truth is if he snapped his fingers right now I’d drop to my knees and swallow him. If he snapped his fingers and bent over, I’d eat his ass.”

Robert swigged his Corona and eyed me carefully. “Continue.”

“I’ve never been fucked. I really want a cock in my ass. I used to think that was a feminine thing to want, but I’m not feminine and I want it. I want to share my masculinity with another. I want to give my ass. I know I’m masculine. I wanna give my ass in a masculine way, where I test my endurance and ruggedness.”

“How do you fantasize it? Who is it with?”

“Well, I fantasize about that boat guy, I fantasize about you, ’bout you coming up behind me while I’m on all fours.”

“Am I the only one?”

“No, you’re my favorite fantasy, but I’ve thought of others.”

“Who?

“I fantasize about Bruce Springsteen. I wish he’d climb through my bedroom window and sit on the edge of my bed and play the guitar and sing to me. Then I’d like him to fuck me in the ass after I suck him raw and eat his ass.”

“Ain’t he old now?”

“I don’t give a shit. I’d do him in a minute.”

I was opening up now, feeling less self-conscious.

“What else do you want?” Robert continued.

“I just want to get fucked. That’s my biggest fantasy right now, never did it.”

“And who do you want to fuck you?”

“I told you, I want you to fuck me.”

“Yes, you did say that, and Bruce Springsteen, and the boatman—but who else?”

“Nobody else, really.”

“Who else?”

“I said, Nobody else but you and Bruce and the boatman.”

“WHO ELSE?”

“What are you doin, Robert?”

“I want you to face something, a source of great blockage in your chakras, great blockage in your energy flow, great blockage to personal happiness and fulfillment.”

“Face what? What the hell is a chakra? What the fuck are you talking about?”

Robert was very firm now. He was ordering me in his most stern tone yet. “Tell me your number one fantasy. And don’t tell me it’s me. I know it’s not.”

“What?”

“You’ve been talking to me for weeks, I know you, Mike. I know. But I need YOU to know. I need you to face it! Now open up and tell me. Who do you want to fuck your ass?”

“I told you, I want YOU!”

Rolling thunder dominated the lake now.

His voice raised in volume and intensity. “Yes, and who else? Isn’t there somebody else you dream about? Somebody else whose cock you’re fascinated with? Somebody else you’re so ashamed that you want?”

“Fuck you, Robert.” My eyes welled with tears.

“Talk to me, Mike.”

“You got no right, man!”

“Talk to me.”

“You got no fucking right!”

“You want him don’t you?”

“Fuck you!”

“You want his cock, dontcha, Michael? You want his ass. You want to do all sorts of things to him. You want to suck his asshole and swallow his cum. You want to feel his cock up your ass. You want him to do all sorts of things to you, right? Isn’t that true, Mike?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“SAY it, Mike. You want him. SAY it. It’s time you faced facts. You want your own father, don’t ya?”

I was silent with shame and anger and feigned denial. Tears streaked down my left cheek as I fought valiantly to avoid crying.

“You fantasize about your own daddy fucking your ass and cumming in your mouth, don’t you? You want your own daddy. You fantasize about your coach working you over in the showers, and you fantasize about the cops working you over because your coach and the cops are symbolically your father. MIKE, WAKE THE FUCK UP, you want your father to shove his cock….” I lunged across the table and grabbed Robert’s shirt collar and twisted it around his neck. I was in tears, but I was enraged, too: “Don’t you EVER!….” I made a fist and I’m not sure what move he made, but the next thing I knew the table was overturned, the dogs were barking, and Robert was on my back twisting my arm. “You want your daddy’s cock, admit it!”

“Fuck you, get off me!”

His voice was menacing and low. This was not the playful, fun Robert I had hung out with today. “You’re so hot for me because I remind you of your daddy, isn’t that so, Mike! Eh? Big U.S.M.C. Lieutenant Colonel is an authority figure, just another symbol of your daddy. You want your daddy’s cock.”

“Get off of me!” I quietly sobbed.

His mouth was right at my ear, his raspy low voice went right in to my soul. “Tell me the truth, Mike. You want me to fuck you because you want your daddy to fuck you! You want your daddy to love you, dontcha! You think your daddy doesn’t love you. He rejected you because you’re a faggot! Ain’t that right, Mike? Ain’t that why you’ve been here blue-balled every day with excitement over an older man? You love me, don’t you? You’d do anything for me. If I pissed right now and told you to drink it you’d do it. You’d do anything for me, you love me because you love your daddy!”

I was overcome and ashamedly balling. “I thought you were my friend!”

“Mike, there ain’t nothing wrong with you. You want to get fucked, son? You want your dad to fuck you? Hey, you wanna complete boot camp? Well then you’re going to get fucked. You want your daddy to fuck you, well, I’m your daddy Mike. Daddy’s right here Mike. I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck the living shit outta you.”

I was so taken aback by his words that I couldn’t move. I was so angry with Robert for saying these things, but I was also rock hard. I hated him at the moment but I wanted him too.

Just as I had explained about my raw animal attraction to Derek, the attraction that called me to his cock despite his horrible treatment of me, I had a calling to Robert. Yes, I was furious and hurt badly over Robert’s words. But I wanted, I needed to be fucked by him. “Okay,” I answered, “but you gotta go easy on me.”

Heavy rains and additional thunder were over the lake now.

“Get inside. Get up in the loft, I’ll be inside in a minute.”

I walked indoors a bit shaken. Robert had become animalistic but I couldn’t deny how hard my cock was.

I stripped down and climbed into Robert’s bed. I marveled at the masculinity of his room, the little boats in bottles, the lanterns, the U.S.M.C. and Semper Fi logos. I was on all fours, naked and raw, waiting. I had waited for this day for years. I pushed my face into his pillows and inhaled. I got off on the scent of the uber-stud. He had hurt my feelings really bad with his remarks about me and my dad. “HOW DARE HE!” But my body was in desperate hunger and need and desire for him. My body ached for his flesh, his sweat, his testosterone. I wanted the juice from his ball sac.

I heard Robert mount the ladder to the loft and I refused to face or acknowledge him. He was too rude to me. I do have some pride. But I lacked the strength to walk away in self-righteousness. I was too attracted to this animal. He slapped my ass hard and I felt a blob of cold lube on my asshole. That sensation was followed by the feeling of 2 of Robert’s fingers shoved into me.

“I’m gonna give you your fantasy, Mike. You wanna get fucked, you know it.”

My ass was up in the air awaiting what I’d been masturbating to since I was 12. Robert was right. I was incredibly hot for him, but I was hot for my father too. I felt a burning sensation on my virgin hole as the enigmatic stud began his incursion.

“Go easy, Robert!”

“I’m gonna fuck you, son. You need to get fucked hot and raw!” He pushed further and I felt another 2 inches inside me as he yelled “HOO-RAH!”

The pain was escalating. By now, there must have been 4 inches of his manhood inside of me. “Easy, Robert, please.”

Robert’s strong hands grabbed the top of my thighs for support. “Don’t worry, Mike, daddy’s gonna treat you right.”

“You’re not my father!”

“I am tonight, bitch.”

“Why are you being so mean, Robert?”

“Mean? This is boot camp, son. I’m not pussy-footin around with you. You wanna be a man? You wanna grow into your manhood without hangups? Then take it like a man. Take my cock and manhood like you know you want it. You need to ACCEPT, ONCE AND FOR ALL, THAT YOU, MICHAEL JOHNSON LOVES COCK!”

With that he shoved at least 2 more inches into me. “HOO-RAH,” he again bellowed.

“OWWWwwwwwwww, easy, easy!”

“You love it!”

My breathing was rapid, my face was buried into Robert’s pillow. He was commandeering my ass. The outdoor thunderclaps pealed in rapid succession as the roar of the rains engulfed the house. The indoor lights flicked off several times. At least 5 inches of him was already in. I thougth I might pass out. I was consoled by the smell of Robert’s being on his pillow.

“Fuck yeah, this is hot. Brace yourself, Mike. Daddy’s got 3 more inches to give ya.” I thought I might black out from the pain when I heard the next “HOO-RAH,” and the final assault invaded me.

“OWWWWW, EASY, EASY!!”

“YEE-haw, who’s your daddy, Mike?”

“Awwwwww.”

“I got all 8 inches in ya Mike. You took it all! Be proud of yourself, dude. How does it feel?

“Ahhhhhhh.”

“How does it feel to have an 8 inch thick cock from a manly U.S. Marine completely up your ass! What would your daddy say if he saw you now, huh?”

“Mmmmmm, ahhhhh, owww. Easy, man, easy. Ahhhhh.”

Now’s the fun part. Now’s where I start pounding the living shit outta ya and make a man outta you. HOO-RAH, HOORAH.”

My insides were a torn chasm of cock invaded tissue. Robert’s prized dick seemed to be everywhere in my being. Desert Storm was being waged upon and in my ass. I did resent Robert’s analyzing of me and his insistence that I wanted my father. But despite the pain, despite my anger, I was hard. I was harder than I’d ever been in my entire life!

I started to revel in the sensation of this massive tool burrowing deep within me and pulling out. Robert’s strong hands were now clamped down on my wrists, effectively acting as handcuffs. There was no escape for me, even if I wanted it. I was being fucked. I had no power. My body and soul was being morphed into Robert’s. As his cock jumped and burrowed into me, I was becoming an extension of Robert.

“Aahhh, Robert, fuck, yeah, owww, go easy, please.” I sounded like some soldier who’s been discovered injured and half-starved in the desert. “OHhhhh, fuck, go easy, you’re killing me.”

“You love it, Mike, don’t fuck with me, you LOVE it. Lemme hear you son, tell me how much you love having daddy fuck your ass.”

My response was reactionary, instinctive. I didn’t think at all. I just heard the words quietly, softly leaving my mouth. I was gingerly pleading with the stud, in barely audible whispers: “I love it. I love it. Fuck me. Robert, plow me…fuck me…hump me. Awww, yeah, fuck the living shit outta me. Get up there….oooh yeah, ahhhh….yeah, fuck that ass, tap my ass.” My voice rose in volume as I experienced his pounding. “Fuck me like a bitch! Aaahhh, yeah, Robert this is sweet! I think I’m dying, but it’s awesome! Ahhhh.”

He continued his invasion. His thrusts were brutal now. He pounded my ass so hard that if I didn’t have the pillow to block my head from the headboard, I would have had a concussion. This man OWNED my ass. I wanted it, too. He was right. I loved it. I fucking LOVED having this stud take charge of me. I even loved the brutality.

I felt his manly stern hands grab hold of my legs very tightly and twist me over onto my back in one movement. His cock was still burrowed within and I loved the sensation of it twisting within me.

My legs were in the air, me feet were on his broad shoulders as his mammoth meat pounded my ass. “Tell me you like this, Mike. Tell me you ain’t mad at me, that I was right. You do want your daddy to fuck you. You do want me to fuck you. And that you LOVED it that I got rough with you.”

My almost shouting words came out in spurts, between hyperventilations of excitement and sexual frenzy: “Fuck yeah, I love it. I fucking love it. Fuck me. Yes, you’re right, I have thought a lot ’bout my dad’s cock. Oh yeah, fuck me. I’ve jerked off thinking about me sucking his thick, long cock. When I saw you for the first time, my cock became purple with excitement because you reminded me of my dad. Oh yeah, KEEP FUCKING ME, ROBERT. I WANT YOUR COCK BECAUSE I WANT MY DADS!!!!!!!!!!!

“You love this don’t you!”

“Yes, I WANT YOUR ASSHOLE! I WANNA EAT YOUR ASSHOLE and taste the salt and sweat from inside your hole. I want you to cum in me, fuck me, fuck the living shit outta me! I want you to straddle my chest and neck and face with your raw, naked crotch. I want to live inside your ass!”

Robert’s pounding became more severe and rapid. My body was being attacked by a great 8.0 Quake, an F-5 Tornado, a Hurricane Andrews, a devastating Tsunami. I felt jolted and was being convulsed as one in an electric chair. At one point, the rocking of the bed became so violent, it rammed the wall so roughly, that two of Robert’s ships in bottles, resting on shelves above the oakwood bed, crashed onto the floor. The sound of the shattering glass did nothing to staunch the brutal assault upon me.

This was not the Robert who had playfully jogged and swam with me. This Robert in my ass was the rough, animal male who had fought Saddam’s army back out of Kuwait. This was a soldier like none other. I was his prisoner, and only his. He owned everything about me. And, as beaten down as I was, I loved every moment of it. My insides must have been destroyed, but my cock surely didn’t mind. His massive cock was so far in me I thougth it would come up my throat.

“You love it, dontcha, Mike. Who’s your daddy!”

“YOU are.”

“Who’s the man?”

“YOU are.”

“Who has the baddest cock, the best body and the manliest overall being?”

“YOU, YOU, YOU,” I whispered as his pounding of me brought me to delirium.

“You like me, eh Mike?”

“Yeah.”

“Whaddya like?”

“Your cock.

“What else?”

“Your ass.”

“Yeah, you like serving my manhood, dontcha?”

“Yes.”

“You like having your tongue up my ass, dontcha?”

“Yes, I do?”

“You’re still a little ashamed of it, no?

“Yeah.”

“Get over it, Mike. I’m fucking the shit outta you and you love it. Accept it! Accept that you want me to sit on your face. Accept that you want to suck my asshole. Son, it’s time you learned to be a man!” You’re my favorite son, Mike. I love you. I love you man.”

“OH FUCKKKKKKKK!!!” My cock was in agony!

“I’m your daddy, now, Mike. Daddy’s fucking you. Daddy’s got his giant cock inside of his favorite son. I’m so proud of you Mike. You’re a star pitcher on the field and a star at taking cock! Nobody could take cock like you, son. There is nothing wrong with cock, son. I’m proud of you for being gay.”

“Oh shit, this is too much.” Robert’s trouncing of my ass was unrelenting.

“You love it! You wanted this since you were 12, admit it.”

“Ahh, yes, I wanted to get fucked for a long time. I’ve thought of my dad fucking me and some others. Yes, I’ve lived for this for a long time. Ahh, yeah, fuck me, fuck me good!”

Robert leaned in and placed the side of his face against mine. He twisted my body onto my side. I felt his stubble and it reminded me of my dad. I was ashamed for a minute but I got so hard feeling his stubble and thinking of how many times my dad had hugged me as a boy and how much I loved it. I always admired my dad’s manliness, his stubble and the supreme manhood his facial hair represented to me as a boy. Now Robert whispered in my ear as he pounded my ass: “Daddy loves you. I’ve wanted to do this to you for so long, son. I’ve waited for this day for a long, long time. Take my cock, Michael. There is nothing wrong with you, Mike. There is nothing wrong with you for being gay. You need to accept. I love you, Michael. I love you very much.”

cat-lubeHOLY SHIT, I blew the most intense load of my life while I felt Robert’s hot ejaculate explode up my ass. I was in SEXUAL ECSTACY. Our in sync orgasms could probably be heard across the rain pounded lake.

Robert lay upon me, panting, sweaty and seemingly as exhausted as I. My fantasy had come true. I had been fucked. I had been fucked hard and raw by the hottest fucking stud I’d ever looked at in my entire life–not counting my Dad, of course.

And when Robert’s hot stream of seed exploded into my ass, he pierced my soul. It was more than the best sex of my life. It was much more. At that moment, I realized it was the greatest, watershed  Mike’s sucking and fucking continues.moment of my life. I was liberated. I was loved. I was free! At that sex soaked instant, I became a man.


Chapter 7: Mike’s sucking and fucking continues.

I drove home exhausted and exhilarated. After Robert’s maiden voyage into my ass, his extreme violation of my body, his brutal thrusting and grunting, I could barely walk—or talk. Robert didn’t appear to be in a garrulous mood after unleashing his seed and fury, and I was too shell-shocked for any post attack conversation, so I simply dressed and exited. I thought I should clean up the broken bottles, but I was too numb to bother. I don’t think I even said Goodbye.

Driving away from the lake, I couldn’t stop thinking about this: I had been brutally fucked by a man. I had been fucked by a handsome U.S. Marine with an awesome tight body and perfect cock, and a nice, tight ass. Hadn’t I dreamed about this for most of my teen years? It hurt taking his entire huge and thick cock. I didn’t think the head would even get into me, but inch by inch Robert made my ass his own.

I noticed that the more I resisted, the tighter my ass became and the more pain the deed wrought. At one point I felt too exhausted and defeated to bother resisting the aggression, and it was at that moment when my body relaxed enough to take in the last of his colossally big eight plus inches. The pulling out and thrusting back in of these inches made my asshole hurt at first but then vibrate so much I thought I’d die of heart stoppage in ecstasy. It was part painful yet clearly the most sexually exciting moments of my life. And my dick certainly kept leaking in voracious, visceral approval.

I loved sucking Robert’s cock and tasting his semen. I loved tasting his ass, licking the entire crack, squeezing the firm butt cheeks and darting my tongue into his hole like it was a dildo penetrating to his prostate. I loved slurping on that hole and having the saliva build so much that it ran down my chin.

I loved when my face was a mess of spit and I happily used it to slide my face all around his hole. If I could have gotten my whole face up his ass, I would have done it. But I settled for sucking and slurping and eating that hole until we both were exhausted.

I loved the smell of his testes, as his balls rested on my chin. The smell drove me crazy and I could have lain with my face in his balls for eternity.

I loved the sound of his manly voice and how he’d sound vulnerable when sexually aroused. It pleased me as much to perform the scandalous deeds as it evidently was for him to receive them. He just didn’t get how much I enjoyed sucking him, eating his hole, having his cock tear me apart, and just pleasing him.

In addition to rocking my ass, Robert really did a number on my head as well. He was right; there was no problem with being gay. If anybody had a problem with my being gay then it was HIS or HER problem, not mine. That includes my family and anybody else. Robert was the perfect role model for me. If he could be in to doing it with a man, then there’s no shame in it, there’s no dearth of manliness about it. For the first time in many years, I felt good to be a man who likes men.

I thought of all those times I beat off in my teens longing for my coach, for Derek, for professional athletes and handsome actors, and, yeah, my own dad. Many times just when I was about to shoot my mega load, I’d quickly envision a girl. Somehow I thought that would alleviate some of the guilt I had about thinking of sex with a man. I always felt condemned for wanting another man’s cock, his ass, especially when I wanted my own father’s. Now I wasn’t feeling the shame.

I was feeling that everything was right, so for me there was no turning back. I would not ever be jerking off with guilt or worrying about what girl to take to a friend’s wedding, or who to be seen with at McBirdy’s or at the lake.

I continued my drive in wondrous and sexually fulfilling thought. I probably still will have some guilt when I think of dad. But I’m not likely to pursue anything down that road, so if I want to fantasize and jerk my meat thinking about dad pushing my face down onto his mammoth meat or having him put me over his knee, spank me, turn me around and fuck me, well, it ain’t nobody’s damn business but mine.

Turning off Rt. 23 for the final few minutes home, I saw the familiar, paint-peeled, faded lettering: McBirdy’s, Where Friends Are Waiting. Driving passed that ridiculous lie I had to snicker. I said aloud, “Yeah, right. Derek? Some friend.” Feeling emboldened I pulled in to the lot. Scanning the cars I quickly spotted Derek’s Toyota, noted for its poor paintjob and ridiculous dice hanging from the rearview mirror.

I wasn’t sure if Rich or Steve’s cars were there, but it didn’t matter. I was on a singular mission, which involved Derek and Derek only. Just after entering the dive center of my life and its people, the dive I figured I’d never, ever return to, and walking down the dingy hall through the cigarette cloud and stench which bisected the ancient black and white photos of past area fire and police department chiefs, the familiar, creaky double saloon doors pushed toward me and Rich’s face was unexpectedly in mine.

“Hey, Mike, what’s good man?”

“Hey Rich, I just thought I’d stop off for a Corona before going home. You out already?”

“Yeah, I actually want to get home and watch The Matrix. It’s on HBO.”

“You know that’s our favorite movie.”

“Yup.” Over the din of some terrible song by Faith Hill and sporadic laughter on the other side of the double doors–Were they still laughing about me? Well, I don’t give a fuck anyway–Rich made my heart warm. “Hey, why don’t you come over? We’ll watch and recite every line.”

“Yeah, all three lines.” I quickly put an addendum to my joke, “That’s sounds cool. Okay, I’ll meet you at your place.”

Within ten minutes we were in Rich’s basement. He looked very attractive tonight. I don’t think I ever really noticed how athletic his build was or how nice his hair was. Was I just projecting Robert onto Rich? Could be. But Rich’s ass in his Guess jeans, which also flattered his muscular thighs, definitely looked good, a lot better than I’d ever remembered.

“Yo, Rich, you working out or something? You look different.”

“Yeah, I been swimming at school every morning and hitting the gym. I’ve lost twenty lbs. Check it out.” He pulled his dark green t-shirt up to show off his new- found abs.

I was very impressed, but I didn’t want him to know just how impressed I was. Jeez, I hope my tenting cock in my own jeans didn’t tip him off. “Looks good, man. Maybe we’ll have to race at the lake some time.”

“Oh yeah,” he answered as he turned the TV on. “Oh fuck, the storm.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The bitch of a storm before knocked the cable out. Shit, our cable goes out with the slightest wind.” That was quite a storm, I thought. My ass will never be the same.

“No worries,” I said. “We’ve seen it a zillion times anyway.”

“Wanna smoke a joint?” he asked, although he knew I’d probably say No.

While I normally didn’t smoke weed I had had such a momentous day that I uncharacteristically responded, “Let’s do it up!”

Rich was a little surprised but certainly happy. He took a nicely rolled joint from his inside left pocket and torched it with a “McBirdy’s” matchbook. After passing the joint back and forth a few times I started feeling nicely stoned, and loose. “Damn, I’m feeling good.”

“Me too, shit, this is good shit.”

“Yup, that shit is some fine good shit. Shit. Shit-shit-shit. Shit.”

“Aahaha, you’re stoned.”

“Yes,” I confessed and laughed, “and you, too.”

The lulls in conversation were exciting, just sitting there, chilling with Rich, occasionally speaking words of nothing.

“Hey, I got a good fuck CD I made. I banged this chick at Rutger’s to it. We both came like dogs.”

“Why, ya gonna fuck me?” It was a joke that didn’t land as well as I thought. Rich didn’t respond. I quickly backpedaled and urged: “Make me a copy?”

“Sure, I’ll do it now.” Rich turned on the computer, which he had hooked to his elaborate sound system and popped in a disk to burn. I didn’t even ask what the music was. It sounded like standard club music, but it was exciting thinking that Rich had been fucking to it.

“Fuck yeah,” I said as I squeezed my cock. “This music is hot.”

The weed had certainly loosened me up but I already felt without it I would talk candidly and openly to Rich. It was about time. We’d been friends for years.

I was feeling a little scared again, though. My heart was racing but I thought of Robert and how much he encouraged me to push through my fears. I figuratively leapt into Rich’s hands just as I had literally leapt off the cliff into the cold water, forty feet below.

“Rich, I wanna clear the air. We’ve been friends a long time and I feel guilty having kept this from you but I was scared. Heck, I’m scared now.” I took another hit of the joint before passing it back to him. “But I’m going to tell you.”

I walked over to the small sofa and sat on one end, next to the beanbag chair, which he was now sitting on, with his legs spread, bulge amply displayed. I looked right at the bulge for a few seconds. I think subconsciously I wanted him to catch me as a way to presage what I was going to say, as if it would be somehow less shocking if Rich had a hint.

“Rich,” I continued, “I was going to McBirdy’s tonight to confront Derek and tell him something in a rather hostile and smug way, the same thing I’m going to tell you but in a friendly way. I’m not going to be ashamed any longer.” I dove off the cliff. “I’m gay, man. I’ve been wrestling with this for most of my life and now I’m facing up to it. I am who I am. It’s cool if you don’t want to be friends anymore.”

Rich looked worried and nervous. He paused for what seemed like an eternity before telling me, “Dude, you know nothing will ever change our friendship. I’m cool with it.” He passed me the joint as he exhaled.

I sighed louder than I’d ever remembered sighing. “Thanks, Rich. Fuck. I was not sure how you would react.”

“When did you know?”

“I always knew. I just fought it.”

“I got a confession, Mike. I mean, as long as you’ve confessed this to me, and we’re saying this shit in complete confidence, I’ve got a confession to make. I let a dude suck me off once.” I liked how he was trying to make a connection to me. It was in his nature to be kind and this proved it. It made me want him all the more.

“No shit?” I acted surprised. Well, I guess I was, although after having met Robert I wouldn’t be surprised if a masculine men told me he’d messed around with other dudes.

“For real. Last summer Becky’s cousin stayed with her and he’s outwardly gay. We were all drunk and playing Truth or Dare when my dare was to whip out my cock. Glenn, her cousin, suggested it and then Becky kept egging me on to do it. Now Becky has seen my cock and tasted it, felt it, a zillion times, so I wasn’t shy about whipping it out. Once it was out, though, her cousin just dropped to his knees and sucked me off in front of her. It was hot. I came on his face.”

“Damn, you stud!” I was getting hard as he recounted this experience. Glenn was one lucky guy.

“Don’t tell anybody, man. You better keep that secret.”

“It’s a deal, Rich. And you better keep this a secret, too.” I was bolder—or crazier–now than I ever was.

“Oh, I ain’t telling anybody you’re gay, man.”

“No, I don’t care if anybody knows about me being gay. That’s not the secret.” I looked down at his delicious bulge and slowly let my eyes climb up his torso to his eyes.

“So, what’s the secret, then?” He gulped and so did I.

“Fuck, this music is hot,” I said as I gently grabbed my package. “The secret is that I blew you and let you fuck me in your basement.”

“Oh, fuck! Damn.” He looked worried again and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Oh, FUCK.”

“Dude, what happens in The Manor….” (We always referred to Rich’s basement, where we smoked and drank, with that regal moniker.) He picked up our long-ago coined mantra and his cue and finished with me: “…stays in The Manor.”

He still looked nervous, although he nodded and half smiled after we recited our old frat-boy like pledge. I took this to mean he was tacitly agreeing to this experimentation, but I could tell he didn’t know how to go about it. I was more than happy to instruct and take the lead.

“First thing, Rich, is ya gotta relax. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with what we’re going to do. It’s our private shit.” I rubbed his thigh and he didn’t object. I rubbed it again and this time let it move closer to his tantalizing mound. He still sat calmly, so I lay my hand fully on his bulge, lightly rubbing it. I then cupped my entire hand around his tumescent package. He seemed sexually pleased and hard, even if he were mentally nervous.

With that I got on my knees in front of him as he sat even more spread legged and inviting on the oversized beanbag chair. I noticed his hard-on was becoming more severe, a beautiful prelude to what I was hungering for. “This is part of my coming out, man. I want to be comfortable with who I am and I want to taste your cock, dude.”

Rich jumped up with more exuberance than I thought he would and removed all of his clothes. Fuck, he was ripped, I thought. He must be about 5 ft. 10 in., 175 lbs and all firm and lean. He’s got a little peach fuzz on his chin and maybe about the same amount of hair on the center of his tight chest. Cock-wise, we could be brothers, about 7.5 inches and straight up, nice mushroom head. Nice, hairy bush. His ass is so firm and small, hairless. His legs and the lower part of his back, above his ass, have a little hair. Damn, Rich, you are sexy as hell.

I knelt before him and gently took the head into my lips. I started licking his piss slit and tasted a nice combination of pre-cum and piss. I continued slurping and gently kissing the head before I slid the monster into my throat. I didn’t gag. Thanks to Robert’s instruction and oddly effective baseball analogy, I relaxed and Rich’s ample dick slid home.

I continued bobbing my head, grabbing onto his tight butt, letting my lips jerk him off until his moans and warning of “I’m gonna shoot, Mike” foretold the splattering of my face, chest and hair with his hot man goo. He used his cock to wipe my face and feed me his nectar. I felt the gob in my hair and pulled at it, taking half into my hand while leaving the rest smeared into my scalp. I looked at Rich’s smiling face and licked my hand and swallowed the additional gel. It tasted great. I loved the salty, thick quality.

“Oh, shit,” he whispered. “That was so fucking hot, Mike. I can’t believe you swallowed me.”

“I fucking loved it. I wanna suck your ass now.”

“You kidding me? Oh, fuck, nobody has ever done that shit to me.”

“Turn around, man. Tonight’s your night.” Rich eagerly obliged. His ass was so firm and perfect. All the swimming and running and exercise machines had made one fine specimen of ass. I started kissing his cheeks and rubbing my face in a circular motion, the way you’d bury your face into a girl’s tits, I suppose.

Rich enthusiastically approved of my methods: “Oh, fuck, yeah, Mike. Holy fucking SHIT I’m gonna get fucking tongue fucked!”

I went right for his hole. I got off on the scent of his manliness, his man funk. The combination scent of sweat and ass made my cock excruciatingly hard. I gently licked the hole and Rich instantly moaned, “Oh, that’s fucking wild, man.”

As Rich’s pleasure became more intense, so did my sucking and licking. I got my tongue as far into and up his ass than I ever could. He was squatting with both of his hands on his knees. He swayed his hips and got into the rhythm of having his ass entered and slurped by my tongue.

“Yes, Mike, do that fucking ass. Damn, this shit feels good. I hope it feels as good doing it. I apologize if I’m not perfectly clean. I didn’t know anybody’s tongue would be in my ass tonight.”

He was clean enough. Clean enough to excite the hell out of me. I just kept shoving my tongue and face up as far as I could get it. The more I pushed, the more Rich moaned and wailed. After sucking his asshole for about a half hour, Rich got himself so excited that he spontaneously came. I felt like a champion for doing it to him.

“Holy fucking shit, man, you destroyed me!” he panted.

“Tell me about it. If you had told me years back that one day I’d blow you and swallow your load and suck your asshole I’d have thought you were crazy. But you’re a good-looking stud, man. College is agreeing with you.”

He smiled and nodded. I added to quell my fears, “Hey, you’re not having second thoughts, are ya? You don’t feel guilty or nothing?”

His response was music. “You fucking kidding me? Nah, it was hot as hell, man. And I ain’t done yet.”

“Whatdya mean?” I asked with inquiry but nervous energy.

“I’m gonna fuck your ass, man. I’m gonna lay pipe in your ass. I want ya on all fours for a bit and then I’d like you to put your legs over my shoulders. Just a warning, though. I fuck for a loooong time.” What a romantic, I thought. But damn, his brutal simplicity and forthright plans are turning me on!

My cock was in pain before. With his warning it became harder, bluer, veinier and screaming to explode like never before—well, excluding my time with Robert. I took all my clothes off and got on all fours. I think my body was equally as impressive as Rich’s but I didn’t expect him to compliment me. That, for him, may have been too “gay.”

“Fuck me, Rich. Fuck me harder than you ever fucked any chick. Do my ass, man. I want ya to fuck the living shit outta me and fuck me hard.”

Rich got very hard again and quickly spit on his hand before turning his fist enthusiastically around the head of his impressive meat. He waddled over to me with his cock dripping and hard as granite.

I felt the head touch my hole as I scanned the room, noticing not much change in all the years of hanging here. I grabbed on to an old Hobby Horse of Rich’s sister’s. Too funny, I thought. I’m hanging onto a toy called a Hobby Horse while I’m about to get fucked. I hope it’s a good ride for both of us.

While I fixed both hands on the horse, before I knew it, Rich’s cock was entering me, and then with a few thrusts was completely inside. His firm hands grabbed both of my ass cheeks, rubbing them and then pulling the cheeks far apart, as he ruggedly took my body onto his impressive meat.

“Oh, fuck, man, I’m liking this a little too much,” he exclaimed as he feverishly pumped my ass.

“No shit,” I countered. “Tell me ’bout it,” I uttered during pants of sexual exhilaration.

I was getting a little rug burned on the knees from the 1970s green shag carpet, but it was well worth it to have Rich’s cock inside me. I felt his pole snaking me out and I thought of all the horsing around we’d done over the years down here, and how many times his mother had shouted down for us: “You boys behave.” If only she could see us now. We were definitely not behaving. I wanted to be dirty with her son. A dirty, filthy whore–and loving it.

Rich thrusted and pumped with increasing force. I responded by pushing my ass back. After slapping my ass he grabbed my hair with one hand and with the other grabbed the skin on my shoulder. He pulled back and pumped forward. “You’re my bitch, eh? You like this, bitch?”

My hair hurt but if felt kind of caveman cool to be manhandled like this. I wondered if this is how he fucked Becky. “Come on,” he added. “Tell me, you’re my bitch.”

I definitely enjoyed being his bitch tonight, having him use my mancunt for his pleasure and, if he wanted, as a receptacle for his load.

“Yes, man, I’m your bitch. Fuck me! Ohhhhh, yeah, fuck the living shit outta me. You are the man!”

After probably a half hour of intense, wet pounding, he lifted my legs over his shoulders and continued assaulting my hole. It was awesome having him invade me this way. I got to look at his tight, sweaty body and his handsome face looking down at me. It was funny to be getting fucked here. I noticed the dark oak paneling, which probably was here when they lay the carpet, before I even met Rich.

I could see his little brother’s bicycle through the small basement window. It was a purple K-mart bike, and I noticed his helmet was still attached to the handlebars. Did the storm fill it with water? Why am I even thinking about this?

I noticed the board games stacked in the corner, Monopoly, Life, Trouble, Stop Thief. How many times had we played these games for hours down here? I’m really liking the game we’re playing now. Fuck yeah. The Jimi Hendrix poster and the Robert Plant pictures both caught my eye. The bong. No wonder Steve also liked hanging with Rich. Would he ever engage in gay sex? Had he already?

I continued surveying as I enjoyed his hard pumping action. This was The Manor, our home, our getaway and party place. I guess this is a perfect place to be fucked, certainly a perfect place to be fucked by Rich.

“Oh, you’re killing me man, with your huge cock. I love it. I’m your bitch, fuck yeah!” I continued to pant and express how much I enjoyed being Rich’s bitch. “Slam my hole, man. Ahhh, yeah….”

Rich’s hair fell forward, looking even thicker than it was. He seemed to have a smirk on as he looked into my eyes. He was enjoying this. Need I really tell you that I was also? Then he did something that floored me. He reached down and gave me a quick kiss on the lips and then quickly lifted his head as if he were just testing the waters, not wanting to “be gay.”

“It’s alright, Rich. That felt good. What stays in The Manor….”

My words apparently resonated with him as he confidently returned to pressing his lips against mine. He ironically was pounding me very hard but his lips were gently kissing. I let my tongue slip between his lips and we gently French kissed as I continued feeling the exhilarating drilling of my ass.

“I’m about to cum up your chute, Mike” quietly left his lips. I was getting seriously turned on by the sound of his balls slapping into my ass and hitting part of my balls. This was almost as good as being fucked by Robert.

With a few more violent thrusts, and one exhausting-sounding groan, Rich loosed his juice into my ass and then a moment or two later pulled out. We both let out grunts of delight, pure sexual ecstasy.

“Dude,” said Rich, panting and shining with sweat, “You really gotta keep this a secret, okay?”

“Deal, man.” I got my clothes and we changed together as if we were teammates changing in the locker room. When we were completely dressed, Rich shook my hand. I thought that was cute.

Then we both noticed him in the doorway.

“Nice. You’re BOTH faggots?” Derek stood there shaking his head.

There was a long pause before anyone spoke. I thought it was my obligation to speak. Finally I confronted Derek. “No,” I said. “I’m the only gay dude here. Rich was just experimenting, like, what, 80% of men do at one time in their lives. So don’t act all high and mighty, Derek. Yes, your suspicions have always been correct. I’m gay and I’ve always checked you out. Yeah, I’ve been attracted to you since 7th grade. So sue me. Big shit. I find you attractive. So what.”

Rich seemed mortified and kept looking down at his feet as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

“So, what are you going to do, Derek, not be friends with us anymore? That’s your choice. I’m gay and that’s it. Rich is not gay.”

“Yeah, well he certainly looked gay plowing you and cumming up your ass,” he said. “He certainly looked gay when you were eating his balls and sucking his ass.”

“How long were you watching?” I asked.

“What?”

“Well, we’re both dressed now, and you just appeared right now. I’m just curious how long you watched us before you made yourself known? We’ve been going at each other for a long time. Clearly, you’ve been watching a long time. Could it be that maybe you liked what you saw? Did you jerk off while watching?”

“You want another fight, Mike?”

“No, I just want you to chill the fuck out. There’s nothing wrong with me, there’s nothing wrong with Rich, and there’s nothing wrong with you, Derek.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Look, I’ve checked out your shit since the 7th grade. You know that. I know that. But what you’re not owning up to is that you knew it all along. I would say you even encouraged it.”

“Encouraged it? Are you fucking delusional?”

“No, I’m not. You would see me looking right at your shit and I would look from your fly to your face and you wouldn’t look horrified. Many times I detected excitement. And you checked my shit out many times, too. I think it was a game of, I don’t know, somehow playing with your sexuality. Like you wouldn’t actually do the gay scene explicitly but this was the way you’d safely express it, and probably beat your meat later at home.”

“Fuck you, Mike.”

“Look, I’m not saying it to condemn you. I know you’re straight, but even the straightest dudes get curious. I think you were flattered by my checking you out. It made you feel more of a man—which in my eyes you were. So you encouraged it, or I’ll say you didn’t discourage it, because for some reason it made you feel cool and wanted. Well, you were wanted and I’m not being ashamed of it. You’re still wanted.”

Derek just looked at me with interest but didn’t respond. I continued. “I’ll always have a thing for you. I love you, Derek. I love you both. I want us to remain friends and not let this sexuality shit get in the way. Who gives a fuck about it? Let’s be friends, man.” My voice cracked and I think I was afraid I might cry. Keep it together, Mike, I thought. Keep it together.

I extended my hand to him. I was certain he was going to laugh, mock me, say Fuck You and leave. He walked around the room with his one hand on his back belt loop. He looked contemplatively at the mementos of the room, like I had done earlier. Was he reminiscing about his, about our, history in this room, with each other?

He then astonished me when he turned to face me and reached out and embraced me. I was absolutely shocked. It was a big hug, warm, and he didn’t seem eager to let go.

“You aight, man. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He let me go but stood closely in front of me with his head held down, ashamed. “I did play you for a long time, Mike. I did play you. I noticed you were looking at me and it got me at first excited but seriously angry. I thought, “How dare you check me out, insinuating that I’d be in to that gay shit?” It got me mad because I was furious that you could have thought I’d have gay tendencies. I guess that’s why I fucked you over at the lake. I feel like shit, man. I really do.”

“It’s alright, man.” I countered.

“No, it’s not. I was a total douche to you. I was mad at myself for being curious. But, yeah, I kinda got in to the idea of it, of you checking me out, too. Like I liked the power it made me feel. I admit I liked having that power over you because you were so much better at baseball and at school. I was jealous. And, yeah, I was curious. You’re a good-looking dude.”

Rich spoke up, “Well, I’m glad we can all come to an understanding here. Fuck, can you guys believe the experience we’ve had tonight?” He laughed a little incredulously.

“No, it’s very strange, that’s true,” said Derek.

“I want you both to know that we’ve been friends forever and I hope we always stay that way,” I told them.

“We’ll always be friends, man,” said Derek. He added to Rich, “You, too, dickbag.”

Derek grabbed us both into a huddle with him and all three of us instinctively responded: “What happens in The Manor stays in The Manor!”

Derek added, “Okay, how we gonna make sure it stays here?”

Rich responded, “Whatdya mean?”

icon-award-winnersDerek answered, “Well, what incentive do I have for keeping my mouth shut?”

“You blackmailing us?” I asked.

“Of course not! What I mean is I need a personal incentive to keep my mouth shut and I think I know what would do it and what would seal our friendships, make amends, and close this night together for us.”

“What do you have in mind?” I questioned.

Derek looked at me and Rich and back at Rich and then me again. “The question is,” Derek said, “is what do YOU guys have in mind?”

Rich and I exchanged a puzzled look while Derek smirked and reached for his belt. He was unbuckling his dark blue Levi jeans and unzipping the fly before Rich and I registered what he meant. Eyes wide, Rich and I exchanged looks of “This can’t be happening,” when Derek’s stunning nine inch cock approached us.


Chapter 8: The End: Mike and Derek bond, & Mike’s father confronts.

We stared in amazement as Derek completely disrobed. He was hotter than I had ever imagined, and his cock was so decadently satisfying to look at: at least 9 inches, and kind of thick, surrounded with an untamed bush. His body had a little hair on his legs and a slight treasure trail on his tight chest. I went towards him and took off my clothes.

“I think I’m gonna need another hit of my joint. Fuck, this is too insane,” interjected Rich, as he disrobed as well. The three of us stood there totally naked. “I’ve wa, wa, wanted this shit since the 7th grade, man,” I stuttered, so unbelievably shaken that my fantasy was going to come true.

Derek just smirked and said, “Go for it, man.” I got down on my knees and deep-throated him, while I felt Rich’s impressive meat enter my ass. I briefly stopped my sucking of Derek’s beautiful member to say, “Just a warning, Derek, but Rich pounds ass for a looong time. So this might take awhile.”

Derek laughed. “I like getting my cock sucked for a looong time, so no problem here, my man.” He patted my head and gently played with my hair as he gingerly brought my mouth back to his terrifyingly manly member.

I happily slurped Derek’s meat, tasting his salty secretions, and obliged and submitted to Rich’s invasion, and even pushed my ass back, violently onto Rich’s intense cock, while thinking how great it was to be in The Manor again, hanging out and goofing around with my good friends. Before the night ended we had changed positions. Derek fucked me while I blew Rich. Derek fucked with much more force than Rich, and Rich was no slouch. Derek’s trouncing of my asshole was almost as intense as Robert’s.

He held my legs tight, like he owned them, pulling my ass into him as he shot back with violent thrusting. At times the pushing forward caused me to choke on Rich’s big meat, but I got the rhythm down, eventually. I relaxed my throat, effectively taking Rich’s ample tool, and I pushed my ass back with such force and in sync with Derek’s fierce pulling out, that the thrusting into my ass happened at the same time I deep throated Rich. And my pushing back hard with my ass happened at the same time I removed Rich’s cock from deep in my throat. Once I got the rhythm down, I felt I could go all night like this. I mentally shouted, “Fuck me, Derek, fuck me hard! Rich, shoot that cock down my throat as far as you can get it!”

They both ejaculated their voluminously warm loads at nearly the same time. I think Derek’s shouts as he dumped his cream up inside me got me so excited that I mumbled a shout of glee. As soon as I did, I felt Rich dump his spunk as he moaned, “Ahhhhhhhh.” This got me so excited that I pulled my meat and in two strokes shot all over the shag carpet.

It was an amazing night in The Manor. Derek even briefly got into jerking Rich off. “Seems like ol times, eh?” Derek asked of Rich.

“What does that mean?” I curiously asked.

Rich spoke for them. “Might as well fess up. Years ago Derek and I jerked off to Penthouse magazine down here. We’d do it every once in a while and a few times we graduated to jerking each other off, nothing else though.”

“Holy shit. Damn. Well, if you guys want to experiment further, there’s no better time or place,” I said.

With that, Derek took Rich’s cock into his mouth. Before Rich spunked all over Derek’s face, Derek paused to admit, “Fuck, you guys know I love women, but I’m having a really good time here. A really, really good time.”

“No judging from any of us, man. You’re among friends,” I said.

Rich answered as if I were addressing him. “Well, as long as you say that, I’ve always fantasized about getting fucked once. Derek? You game?”

“Why not?” Derek agreeably responded and then quickly approached the entrance of Rich’s ass when Rich asked of me, “Have you ever heard of a tag team?”

“Baseball? Really? You wanna talk about baseball now?” I asked incredulously.

He laughed, “No, it’s when two guys fuck the same chick or dude.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of it,” I said. I lied. I never heard of it, but for some reason not knowing would be more embarrassing for me than taking cock and slurping semen in front of my old buddies.

“Well,” said Rich, “Get busy, Mike, I want your cock in there, too.”

I happily obliged and pressed my hard cock aside Derek’s and we exchanged a friendly “Can you believe we are about to do this?” look. Years of pent-up frustration and attraction for Derek and the current scenario with him and Rich made me impulsively reach over and plant a kiss right on Derek’s lips. I thought he’d pull away but he returned his lips to mine and in a surprisingly very tender way stroked the back of my head as our tongues danced together.

He pulled away and said, “Okay, man, let’s enter this bitch.” We both smiled and started in. But our collective cocks were too much for Rich, who was in visible pain. He decided he’d rather take us into his ass one at a time. We laughed and agreed that might be in his hole’s best interest.

I took sloppy seconds and I must say that eating Derek’s cum as it slid out of Rich’s ass was one of my all-time favorite sex scenes, outside of anything I’d done with Robert. Rich’s ass released the voluminous secretions from Derek’s meat and I happily lapped up the lava like wad. It turned me on to know it was not only from Derek’s cock but it had been way up Rich’s ass. I swallowed eagerly and almost came from the taste.

I also loved when Derek sat on my face while Rich blew me. I had wanted to eat Derek’s ass for most of my life. And here I was doing it—while having Rich suck my cock. I was a lucky man.

After violating and abusing each other for far longer than a showing of The Matrix, we decided it was time to call it a night. We put our clothes back on and gave each other big hugs, like we had just ended a spiritual retreat or something.

“We’ll always be friends, Rich and Derek,” I said. Derek promptly responded, “True, my man. I may even start to like getting busy with you.” He smirked the way he had when he had caught me looking at his cock all those years.

Rich laughed and said, “Ya know, I thought I detected something between you guys years back.” We all laughed to that.

“Hey,” I interjected a thought. “What are we gonna tell Steve?”

Rich laughed, “Well,” he paused. “Steve and I did also jerk off to that same Penthouse.”

“Fuck, where was I when this was all going on?” I asked.

They responded simultaneously: “Doing homework.” We laughed at the absurdity of this evening and called it a night.

At our cars in the darkness, I gave Derek one last hug. “I really do care about you, man. I know I’m sounding “gay,” but I love you man and want the best for you,” I said.

“Thanks, Mike, I’m feeling kinda shitty after the way I treated you. I’m gonna speak to Singer and tell him that you should be guarding this summer.

“Aw, thanks, man, I appreciate the gesture but I’m already busy at Pine Lake. I’ve been seeing a great guy there, a Marine.”

“Good for you, man. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, man. It’s been hell going through this all. But I’m finally cool with it and accepting of it. It’s OK to be gay. It’s OK to experiment, too, even if you’re not gay, as in your case. We’ll hang soon, Derek. Take care.”

“Thanks for saying that, Mike. You’ve helped me. Ya know, I really, really am sor….”

I cut him off. “Forget it, really. Take care.”

“Aight, man. See ya soon.” He punched my arm. I punched his.

“Oh, ya want another fight, bitch?” he playfully asked.

“Nah…” I was about to say, “Nah, you’d win,” but I was overcome with unexpected emotion, which cracked my voice and teared my eyes. “Nah,” I repeated and then added, “I want you. I want to hug and kiss you and make love to you, and smell you, and, yeah, even put my tongue up your ass.”

“Dude,” said Derek, “let’s go to my house. The pool will be awesome at night, and my parents are down in Wildwood for the week.”

“Oh, fuck, okay, I’ll meet you there.” “Mike.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know what to say about this crazy night. I don’t believe I’m gay or even bi. It’s just, I don’t know. I’m so fucking turned on by what we did tonight and what I still want to do with you.”

“I’m not judging you, man. I’m so happy we’re friends and I’ll totally respect your limits and whatever you want. I’m here, Derek.”

“Okay, my friend. I’ll see you at my house.”

“Peace, man,” Derek responded as he winked at me, springing my cock back to life.

Minutes later I was walking around to Derek’s backyard and in the glow of the moonlight I saw him lounging naked on a lounge. It was beautiful seeing his hard body, the dark bush, the tasty cock.

“Wuzzup my man!” I mischievously exclaimed and Derek smiled.

“Eat my ass,” he simply ordered.

He rolled over and I got instantly hard looking at his tight, hard ass. I squatted down, spread his cheeks and ran my tongue up the entire crack, certainly not missing his inviting hole, the hole I had dreamed about for years. After licking up and down, down and up that beautiful crack, and after pulling apart and bringing back those beautiful ass cheeks, my tongue settled onto his hole.

Derek was moaning, “Oh, FUCK, Mike, this is hot.” I responded by pushing my tongue farther into his ass. He moaned and groaned louder: “Ahhhh, Ohhhhhh.”

For the next half hour I was dripping hard as my lips and tongue explored, loved, kissed, nibbled, inhaled and slurped and swallowed Derek’s beautiful asshole.

“Let’s hit the pool man!” Derek exclaimed after squirming in the rapture of my invasive tongue. He dove in and I quickly disrobed and followed.

“Let’s race. The loser has to suck the winner’s cock!” Derek challenged.

“Well, I’m clearly going to make sure I lose then,” I retorted.

“You’re so fucking gay, man,” Derek playfully teased.

“I know, and don’t you love it?” I answered.

I dove on him with a bear hug and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. He bear hugged me back and planted a kiss on my cheek as well. We kept our arms embracing each other as I slid my hands down and caressed his studly ass. He did the same to me as we stared in each other’s eyes, both of our Adam’s apples gulping.

“I fucking want you so bad, Derek,” I whispered.

“I know, man. And it’s weird but I’m wanting you, too,” he countered.

Our lips met and soon thereafter our tongues. “I need your cock,” I said.

Derek walked over to the shallow end and sat up on the side of the pool, where his cock was out of the water. I got between his firm, chiseled legs and slurped his cock to the slurping sound of the pool’s filter.

“I’m gonna blow, Mike,” Derek softly moaned to me. I pulled my face off of him and caressed his cock as it shot spurts and spasms onto my lips. I licked it all and swallowed.

“Your turn, stud,” Derek offered. We switched positions. By now my night vision had sharpened and in the darkness I could make out all the details of Derek’s face. He was hungry, full of lust as he went down on me. He kept rubbing his face all over my cock, as I would expect he would do with pussy. And then he deeply inhaled the scent of my balls, like I had done his ass, and I knew he was seriously into me.

“Suck me good, Derek. Suck that cock.” His response was to deep throat me and he caressed my balls gently with his fingers. Suddenly he put his middle finger exhilaratingly and unexpectedly into my hole–and I spontaneously shot four spasms of load down his throat.

“Sorry, man, I couldn’t give you any warning that I was exploding,” I said.

After swallowing every drop of me, Derek replied, “You kidding, man? I fucking loved that shit.”

We then moved to the grass, where we lay in 69 position, me on the bottom. It felt so good to not only get my cock sucked but to have Derek’s ass, once again, all over my face and my tongue blissfully far up his rectum. He squirmed with ecstasy as my tongue devoured and violated his asshole. We switched positions and Derek tasted, at first tentatively, then ravenously, my asshole as my mouth voraciously engulfed his member.

Finally, we nailed each other in the ass. First I grabbed the bars on the lounge and bent over as Derek took me from behind, doggy style. He raped me hard. Then he got on all fours on the same lounge with his ass in the air. I fucked him so hard I nearly broke the chair.

“Dude, that was awesome,” panted Derek. “Don’t laugh. Well, you’re gonna think I’m sick, but as you were pounding me, I was getting even more turned on thinking about….”

“What?”

“Dude,” he continued, “I always thought your father was the handsomest stud.” Holy shit, Derek had the hots for my father? Well, somehow this makes me feel less weird. I know my dad is very handsome.

“Okay,” I offered. “As long as we’re being honest, I’ve jerked off to fantasies about him, too. Have you ever thought of your dad that way?”

“You kidding?” Derek answered. “No way. First off he ain’t good looking and secondly, no, that just seems fucked up. But, hey, I mean whatever you’re into. And your dad is fucking hot, man. Hot as hell!”

“Yeah, he is. Maybe that’s where I get if from,” I teased.

To my surprise, Derek didn’t laugh at that. “No shit, man. You are very hot, too. In total confidence, if my dad was as hot as he is, I’d wanna fuck with him, too. Shit, I’d love to see you two go at it. The three of us at an orgy! Can you imagine that shit?!”

I answered, “Fuck, yeah, that would be hot. Hey you know I was always fantasizing about doing your cousin Tommy and you together.”

Derek laughed. “Well, that might be possible. I think Tommy goes the way of the gay. But I’m not sure. He supposedly lives with ‘roommates’ out in Bernardsville, but it’s really just one guy as far as I can tell. Maybe the way he always emphasized the plural, ‘roommates,’ kinda tipped me off, him trying like to make it seem less gay, I don’t know. But I’m betting he’d take it up his ass. That’s probably why he was always fighting with everybody on his team. Lots of pent up frustration. Dude’s a faggot, I’m sure.”

With a promise from Derek that he might hook us up with Tommy, we dressed and exchanged one last hug before I got into my car and started home. It was about 3 a.m. when I pulled in. Before heading to bed I stopped in to raid the refrigerator, a nice half of a Subway sandwich that I left earlier. I was thankful my brothers hadn’t swiped it.

My dad surprised me in the doorway by the dining room. He was standing there handsome as ever, in his boxer shorts and no shirt. Fuck, Derek is right. He is amazing, I thought. The chest with the nice patch of hair, the firm arms, the tight legs, the handsome, boyishly good-looking face. Fuck, I want his cock. I didn’t want him to see me looking, so I resisted the urge to look right at his fly. Damn, I’m so hot for him.

I sat at the kitchen table and ate my sandwich when my dad opened the fridge, startling me with the fridge light. “Ya have a good night, Mike?”

“Yeah, I was out with Rich.” Was my dad waiting for me? There’s something in the air here that suggests he didn’t just wake up suddenly.

Dad brought over some left over lasagna and joined me, without turning the kitchen light on. It was beautiful and hot to sit with him as he was only in his boxers and in a room only lit by the distant moon glare.

“I’m glad to see you getting out and having some fun, Mike.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

There was a long pause as I suppose we were both thinking of something to say.

“I know. I know, Mike,” he suddenly responded.

“Know what?”

I was getting very nervous where this was heading. Robert had helped embolden me with confronting my sexuality and the enemies to it, but this was a Herculean task here, confronting my father. I was terrified.

“Mike, it’s okay.”

“What’s okay?”

“I know you’re not going over to that Marine’s house every day for nothing.” He took a bite of the lasagna.

I was silent, hoping for the right words to come to me. I nervously sipped a Sprite.

He continued, “I want you to know that I love you. I know I don’t always show it. But I do. I love you more than life itself.”

“I thought you were ashamed of me.”

“No, no, no, never. I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t disappointed. Look, every dad wants to see his son happy, with a traditional and happy life. But there’s nothing wrong with you and I’m proud of you and happy that you’ve found somebody.”

“Dad, you’re the best.” I got up from the chair opposite him and walked around the table and reached down and hugged him. He stood up and answered me by giving me a very big hug. We stood there hugging and holding each other tightly with the moonlight illuminating the room.

“I love you Dad,” I said as I kissed his cheek. “I don’t think there’s anybody in the world I love more than you. I want you to be proud of me.” Then, maybe, I revealed too much of my hidden desires. I also said, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Dad.” And then I kissed him again and held him tightly. He responded by silently kissing my cheek. This was probably the perfect moment of my life. Total bliss. Standing there against him, tightly holding him, smelling him.

We continued holding each other and I started to get really hard. Our bodies were tightly hugging and we’re the same height, so I know he felt my cock. My cock involuntarily twitched and I felt it rub against his, which I strongly suspected was hard, too. I didn’t feel dirty or wrong. I just felt loved and excited.

I just wanted to stand like this forever, and even take it to where I’d been many times earlier this evening. I wanted to taste my dad’s semen and have him fuck me. I wanted him to manhandle me.

He knows about my being gay. My thoughts raced: Dad, you always seem to hint about my sexuality. I bet you always knew. You always knew. Fuck. That means he knows I’m hot for him. He knows. Shit, he knows. He knows I want his cock. He knows I used to jack off with his used underwear in my face. He knows I used to wipe my face with his worn jock strap and jerk off. I don’t know how, exactly, but he’s known all along about my being gay and he knows all along how hot I am for him. He knows this. I’m hard as a rock and he’s hugging me tightly. He knows. He knows.

But I wouldn’t make that type of move on my Dad. And he wouldn’t make that type of move on me. We both settled for the next best thing. For a good ten minutes we stood hugging and holding each other, gently swaying in the moonlight.

“Thanks for supporting me, Dad. I love you.” I loved having my face pressed gently against his firm, hairy chest. Did he also know that? Did I somehow give myself away there when I switched sides while keeping my face in contact with his chest, resting the other cheek against his tight pectoral muscle? I inhaled deeply as my nose brushed passed his chest hair. Did he know this? I’m wondering now how slick had I been all these years in hiding my attraction.

“Dad?” I trembled to ask.

“Yeah?”

“You know, don’t you?”

He didn’t respond. My heart barely did either.

“Dad? Do you know everything?”

He just continued holding me for a few seconds, then lifted his head and looked me in the eye. “Yeah, I know.” He continued gazing into my eyes. A few seconds later he said, “I love you Michael.” He then gently kissed me on the cheek. I responded, “I love you more than anything in this world.” I was crying now. Tears streamed down my face. “My heart is exploding. I freaking love you Dad. You are the best damn father in the whole wide world. I’m madly in….” I stopped myself from completing that sentence. I quickly changed it to: “I love you. I love you.” I gave him one more kiss on the cheek, but wanting to taste his lips. And I knew I’d better go to bed or I’d be making a serious fool of myself.

He gave me the perfect exit. “Now get outta here and get to bed. And clean that damn garage tomorrow.”

I laughed. “Okay, General.” I punched him in the arm and he lunged at me, getting me in a headlock.

“See, your ol’ man still has the agility and strength.” He tassled my hair, pinched my cheek and swatted my ass. “Get to sleep, Mike. And how ’bout we have a game of catch tomorrow, for ol time’s sake?”

“Yes, sir. Thanks, Dad. I love ya.” I couldn’t help but notice in the moonlight what I had suspected in the dark. My father was hard. He was hard as a rock. My own hard-on still raged. He felt it for sure. Did he know that I saw his hard-on? I saw it for a second. Yes, I’m sure he saw me noticing it.

“You know everything, Dad. And you still love me?” I asked in the moonlight.

“Yes. I’ve known everything for a long time. And you know everything, too, Mike. You know the score and I know it. You know how you feel about me, you know how I feel about you. I can honestly say how you feel about me pales in comparison with how I feel about you. You think you love me? Nah, it ain’t nothing compared to what you do to me.”

I thought I saw tears welling up in his beautiful brown eyes. “So I really, really need you to get the fuck outta here and get to bed.”

Emboldened by Robert’s coaching, and the fact that my dad was as hard as I was, I defied him and walked to him.

“Mike, I said Get the fuck outta here and go to bed!” I was standing inches from him hard as a rock. I stood precisely in the moon’s light so that a blind person would be able to see my pole, tenting outward like the ornament on a Jaguar. He was hard as a rock, too, and his beautiful cock had popped through the window of his boxers. Shame must have kept him from drawing attention to it by fixing himself. Attraction kept me from looking away. I stared right at his huge rod and hungered for it. My face was lighted as much as my hard-on. He saw both.

“Get the fuck outta here, Mike. Go. Go.”

“I love you, Dad.”

“Go, for God’s sake! Get the fuck OUT!”

I inched closer and took my gaze off of his monster cock and looked into his eyes and again repeated myself. I was inches from his exposed cock and his sweaty chest. “I love you. I love you and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You are the best specimen of manhood and the best father and man in the whole world. I want nothing but to please you, sir.” I then did the most daring thing of my entire life. I dropped to my knees in front of him and opened my mouth.

It happened so fast. I felt the sting across my face and my back hitting the hard wall before I realized he had hit me. He grabbed me again and pulled me to him like I was a rag doll. Holding me up, he planted one hard quick kiss on my lips before pulling away growling and launching another sting across my face. And another. The last one sent me to the floor.

“I told you to get the fuck to bed. And I meant it!”

I was stunned and hurt in every way. “Okay, Dad. I forgive you. Fuck, you got some strength in you. I forgive you, Dad. I love you. Please forgive me. Oh fuck, Dad, please forgive me.”

He seemed stoic and stood there silently. I looked at this chest, his groin and his face, all the while knowing he was watching me. “I don’t care. I don’t care,” I said. “I love you and I’m going to love everything about you as long as I’m alive.”

I almost sounded threatening now but my words were soft, deliberate, slow and quiet: ‘You hear me Dad? You can punch me. You can kick me. You can beat the living shit outta me every day. You ain’t going to change how much I love you. I’m always going to love you.”

I walked to the staircase wiping my face to soothe the sting and to wipe the newly fallen tears. I love my dad and know he did what he needed to. “He probably saved both of us from a lot of heartache,” I thought.

My dad is very practical. He immediately changed gears and added, “Oh, your mother and I both say yes about August.”

“August?” I didn’t have a clue as to what he was talking about.

“That crazy Marine didn’t discuss it with you?”

“Discuss what?” “I guess he wanted to ask us, first. Well, Robert—who by the way both your mother and I like and approve of even if he’s a bit out there—asked us at lunch other day if it’d be okay for you to move in with him. You’re a college man, an adult now. If you want to live with Robert when you’re not in school, it’s your business. Of course, we want you here. But you can’t stay here forever and we want you happy. So go for it, son. Robert is a good man. And he’s a lucky man. Damn, he is one lucky man.”

I ran to my Dad to throw my arms around him. Directly in front of him, I stopped myself as he was fixing his mega hard-on back into his boxers. I looked right at his naked cock as it went back inside. He saw me looking and I whispered to him: “I love you, Dad.”

His cock sprung through his boxer window again. I stared at it.

“No, Dad. That’s not true. I don’t love you. I’m IN love with you. I’m madly in love with you.”

He answered, “And it’s true that I don’t just love you. I’m in love with you, too,” as his hard cock dripped a stain onto his boxers in the moonlight. He grabbed me and gently planted a kiss on my lips. I pressed my lips into his and hugged him. He hugged me tighter and I kissed him deeper and boldly offered him my tongue. We kissed passionately and I dropped my hands down his chiseled back and dared to let them lightly rest at the top of his ass, tentatively testing the waters. With deeper kissing coming from him I felt bold and at first lightly caressed both of his firm ass cheeks. No beating, no resistance. I squeezed his ass cheeks firmly and let my hand feel a little of his balls via his back entrance.

I then felt his hands slide down my back and grab my butt cheeks. We continued to tongue each other. I then slid his boxers down and reached with my right hand around from his ass to his front region and gingerly rubbed his cock and balls as we continued to passionately kiss.

He then also reached around and started undoing my belt, then the top button of my jeans, and then unzipped my pants before pulling them and my underwear down. He, too, gingerly started rubbing my bare cock.

Our breathing got intense when he gently lifted off my mouth. “Okay, this is good. This is way, way TOO good, and it can’t be right. I want it bad, but we can’t. We can’t,” he said. “This is not right at all. Forgive me, Mike, but I can’t.” He was still rock hard and pulling up his underwear and looking so wounded. “We can’t do this, Mike. We can’t.”

“It’s okay, Pop, it’s okay,” I said as I pulled up my underwear and jeans. “I’m going to sleep. Don’t worry about anything,” I said as I fastened my belt. Dad’s eyes were on my bulge.

He nodded and as he walked away I noticed he had the same look of lust that Derek had earlier in the evening. I waved one final good-bye and walked to the stairs. He stoically exited as well. When I lay down in my room, I looked out at the beautiful moonlight thinking. Thank you, Dad. I love you. Thank you Robert. I love you. Thank you, Derek, I love you. Thank you, Rich, I love you. Thoughts of them made me work my meat. I worked it hard. When I came under the sheets, I’m afraid I may have awakened the house. But I know at least one other person under this roof understood me and would forgive me for my 3 a.m. “HOO-RAH!”

Please don’t judge me or my father. My dad is the best. I’m not going to say what else, if anything else, happened between my dad and me after that evening. There are some personal family details that are not for public consumption. I will only say that my dad is the GREATEST dad that ever lived. He’s also the handsomest, and I love him more and more each day.

I also am very happy living with the enigmatic, handsome stud, Lt. Col. Robert Andrews, who has retired from the United States Marines. Semper Fidelis. I love how open minded and wild Robert is. Let’s just say that Derek and Rich–and one other person who shall be nameless–have been welcomed with open arms at our lake house.

Written By: NYC STUD

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