Mature

Stories dealing with mature characters, men over 40

8Apr

One of Those Days (2)

Part (2)

It really is one of those days. I mean all the thinking about the wasted weekend, about Tyler, naturally made me late. Even the damn coffee was cold, but I drank it anyway. Habit, and you know, I really need to change my habits. From expecting too much from my friends, to having to worry about work, and whether or not I am five minutes late to my early start.

Trent Stokes from Bel AmiLike shit, not as if I have to be in at that time, it is just me sucking up, trying to show how invaluable I am to the powers that be, as if they notice. Told you, it is a Monday, and I do tend to get rather bitchy, when in one of my patented moods. Maybe that is one reason why my friends chose not to celebrate or remember my birthdays, even if it is the big Four Oh.

Like fuck, I even had to change my tie twice, not once, but twice, simply because my mind kept wandering, kept thinking of guys like Tyler. I am obsessive I suppose, but not in a bad way. I mean, it isn’t like I phone him up in the middle of the night, or in the middle of a jack off session, to get off on his voice.

I don’t go around following him like a love sick puppy either, or some queer stalker. Don’t think about dragging him home, without his permission, so what the fuck, what is so wrong about thinking of a guy? Well, it does tend to make a guy cranky, because Tyler is definitely a sexy guy, but unobtainable. And yeah I know, if you don’t ask, you don’t get, but you try to asking a guy, out of the blue, if he wants you to suck his dick off.

Course, I have done some weird stuff before, but come on, getting past one’s own fears, inhibitions, isn’t as easy as all those porn mags make it out to be. Like reading In Touch or watching a video, you don’t just look at the guy across the bar, then suddenly in a room stripping and sucking his dick. You aren’t magically transported to a place, where you are on your knees, surrounded by huge pulsating dicks, all oozing pre cum.

And you wonder why this is one of those days? Fuck, talk about being obsessed, and not like it got any easier at work. I mean the one benefit or perk I do enjoy, is having my mail delivered to my office. No little cubbyhole slot for me, and whoever hires the mail gophers, has an eye for guys.

The other great perk, is my office has glass walls, with a real blind system, so I can have my privacy when I want, and look out, when I want, like when its mail delivery time. Man, to see some of those young men, hustling around with big packages, small envelopes, as they rush around to the various offices, to the main mail boxes.

Like it is a big office, takes up the entire damn floor, with individual offices all along the outside walls, the inside with nothing but cubicles. Rather boring, though impressive, at how they can get so many people jammed into even a space that huge.

Dead center of it all, is a big array of slots. It is the message hub, and where all mail gets laid. It is where all the messengers drop off messages, reports, and other paper crap, that really never means much. After all, everything is on computers, yet the company insists on a paper trail.

So each person, sitting at their desk, their old fashioned computer, has to print out their reports, have one of the mail slash messenger guys grab it and through into someone else’s slot, for filing.

Not like I care, other than it is fun to sit back at my desk, twirl around and look out, to see where I used to be, to realize that even at my ripe old age, I have done not too badly. Then too, those scurrying young men, all different, all in a hurry, but all in nice white short sleeved shirts, tight black dress pants that hug the butt, does make one forget about work, and yes, even about Tyler.

So where am I going with all this? Hell, like I told you, it is one of those days. I get to work, eventually, and first thing I notice, is a pile of stupid reports on my desk, from overnight. I mean, you would think no one works weekends, or nights, and yet, no matter how early you get in, there are always stacks of shit, waiting for you to plod through. You would think there is some paper gremlin at work, because it makes no difference, what time I get to work, the pile is always there.

Pisses me off, because I wonder who delivered it, how cute were they, or better yet, were they family? Would they be worth a few moments more examination, for thinking about later? No, that doesn’t make me a pervert, because no one works in the building, who is under twenty one.

Why? Simple, it has something to do with some stupid security requirement, which makes no sense to me, but I gave up trying to make sense out of some of the rules. Messengers seem to always be around, and some of us, on the outer ring, are even assigned our own little team of gophers.

Now, you would think that would lead to some fun, but boy, goes to show you. Maybe some of the more senior guys get to diddle the messengers, but after the first meeting, you just know, you aren’t that senior. I mean, how obvious can a guy make it, when his first words to you are: “I am your messenger, I’ll get you coffee, deliver the stuff you want, but I don’t put out for guys at your pay scale.”

Like, what, they get hit on, that often? I mean if you look around the office, the one’s in the offices, 9 out of 10 are guys, so what, I am surrounded by family, and can’t even tell? I don’t think so, and no, I am not what you call the standard stereotyped gay guy either. I don’t swish, don’t talk in a high pitch voice, or any of that bullshit, so after that introduction to the messengers, I have let well enough alone.

Not that I wouldn’t mind sampling some of the beef, but damn, playing that close at work, stupid just isn’t my middle name. Yet I sure as hell wouldn’t mind, least with Sam. Though I have to admit, he’s not really my type. He’s more like Hank’s type, in that he’s young, hot, skinny, and definitely seems to have a nice package. That would be fun to explore, but not as long as he is working here, or I am.

Funny isn’t it, how on those days when everything seems a nightmare, or rushed, you keep on daydreaming? Like I can’t get Dillon out of my head, soon as I walked into the elevator to whisk me up to the 45th floor, and my office.

I should have invited him to join me for a few drinks this last weekend. He would have shown up, bet he’d have brought me a card too. He’s that type, until you get him into the bedroom, then look out. I mean this guy is a tiger, and damn, he is so forceful.

Just love how he takes charge, the instant you walk past the door threshold. I mean, honestly you can be out in the living room talking, laughing, and he is so polite, until your feet are past that line. Then he becomes a dominant figure, who just commands your attention.

Last time I barely managed to survive, the way he took me, did all those lovely things, that memories are made up of. Now I wonder, why don’t I think more of him, than say Tyler? Is it simply because I have had sex with him, or is it because, well, he scares me a bit. Not that I am a totally wusse or anything, just that when he wants sex, he wants it all. None of that romantic shit for him.

Maybe he figures the sweet routine before entering the bed chamber is enough, because I swear, if he could, he’d rip the damn clothes off a guy, just because he can. Now Dillon isn’t exactly what you call a Muscle Man. I mean yes, he’s got some good definition to him, though in honesty, he does have more than an inch you can pinch, unlike Tyler.

Still, he does dress impressively. He wears those tight fitting shirts, but not the fancy kind with little alligators on the pocket. They aren’t designer label stuff, but they make his body look tighter, than maybe it really is. Course, when you find that out, he’s naked, and you are usually huffing for air, as his cock is stuffed down your throat.

He is that quick, and that forceful. Besides who gives a shit, when you got his dick in your mouth? I mean that man scent just permeates your nostrils, works its way deep down into your thoughts, and your head even swoons a bit. It is that powerful, just like the man himself.

I suppose the porn sites would call him a bear, but I don’t know. He has fine tufts of hair all down his massive legs, and along his arms, but his chest, is rather sparse. He doesn’t wear a beard or anything, and you can tell he shaves more than once a day. He isn’t bald either, has a rather nice wavy look to his brown hair.

The eyebrows aren’t thick and no, they aren’t uni-brows either. His face has a few blemishes, the nose is crooked from his days as a kid. If you ask him, he’ll tell you that he was always getting into fights with other kids, but he won’t say why. Though my guess is that even then, he didn’t mince words about being gay, or what he wanted.

Might work in a gay bar, but sure as hell not in a schoolyard. Not then, not now, but still, you have to admire the guy. He isn’t afraid to speak his mind, say what he wants, and if he thinks you are willing, he’ll take it too. I mean, maybe that is why only on these days, do I really dwell on Dillon.

Like the last time, the way he just managed to have me on my knees. I mean, I like sucking dick, enjoy the feel and taste of a hot throbbing cock in my mouth, and even the taste of the pre cum, but damn, he had me down there before I even realized it. None of that easy going sucking either.

Dillon likes to ram that dick in, and while it isn’t what I’d call monster size, it is thicker than most. How he can make my jaw ache, is rather scary, but damn, I do enjoy it at the time. I love how he rams it down the throat, how his hands take hold of my hair, and twirl the strands around his fingers. Then how he holds my head, tilting it back so his cock can have an easier access to my throat, and so I don’t choke to death either.

He does force it, and he doesn’t let a guy catch his breath, as he just keeps ramming it in and out. Seems like he ignores the gagging sounds and even the occasional retching noises one makes, when their mouth is stuffed with a hot throbbing cock.

Then just when you are getting used to it, to the hard pounding, the brush of his wiry pubic hairs against your nostrils, he’s out, and slapping a condom on. He’s got one hand twisting you around, and somehow you are leaning over the bed, your legs being spread apart by his. Amazing really, how he can do all that, and you not even notice it.

Hell, you are too busy looking over your shoulder, wondering just how much it is going to hurt, as he rams his tool in. And he does ram it in, too. Nothing slow and gentle about Dillon, about how just sort of walks up, slaps your ass real hard, then you feel his fingers poking at your insides. He never uses just one either, but three of them.

He wedges them between your cheeks, and runs them up and down your valley, as if to make sure just where that tiny pink hole is. Doesn’t matter if its his umpteenth time fucking you, he slides those fingers between and then, when they find your hole, he just seems to pause for a mere instant, before you are grunting as they are somehow deep inside of you.

Dillon likes to twist them as they go in, and he spreads them out too, which only makes you wince a bit more than usual, as he keeps on flexing them, shoving them in as far as that tiny little hole will let. If he could get his whole fist in, I am sure he would, and I know he’d like to try, but being fisted, well, isn’t my thing. Least I don’t think so, but hell, maybe one day, I just might. After all, I am forty now, and why shouldn’t I try some new things?

Hank would be shocked, bet he’d go pasty white, before bending over to have Dillon fist him. I just might enjoy seeing that, but not until I’ve had my own taste of Dillon’s fist inside. Mind you, if he fists like he fucks, I’d have to make sure we did it on a Friday, because somehow, I think I’d not have much control over that pink hole for a few days.

Never do, after he fucks me, so his fist would have the same results, I think. I don’t care for pain, yet when he takes those fingers out, and wedges that hot cock between my cheeks, I can’t wait for the pain of his hard penetration. I mean it is hard, and damn I do scream. Had a neighbour bitch about it once, but fuck him, it was one of the best fucks I have ever had.

Just before I feel his balls slapping my ass, his dick has found that spot, has burst through and the pain is gone, replaced by the most pleasure a guy could ever stand. I kid you not, he slices into my tight hole, and before I have finished screaming my pain, I am moaning in absolute rapture. How the fuck he does it, is beyond me, because for the next ten or so minutes, I am off in heaven.

No shit, the guy takes a good ten minutes, before he’s ready to shoot, and while that might scare some, it sure as hell makes me totally satisfied, afterwards. That first time, well, it was hard, to keep my mind on all that was happening, even now it still feels as good. The way he can work that pole, when it’s so deep inside, how he can make it twist, is amazing.

Frankly, I swear he can make it grow thicker, or thinner, at will. I know, it’s my imagination, or at least that is what I tell myself, but fuck, it sure feels real. How one minute it is like my whole insides are going to burst, from being so stretched by his blood gorged cock, then suddenly it feels like you could put a couple of more dicks inside, with his.

Dillon isn’t quiet either. He is always talking , while ramming his cock in and out. It feels like being a slab of concrete, being jack hammered. Damn it is hard, yet each thrust seems to not just ram me into the bed, but it always seems to hit that spot, that just, well makes me go nuts. I never moan much, unless it’s Dillon fucking my ass. God, he is amazing, yet I don’t know, it is Tyler I fantasize about.

Thing with Dillon, is he is so damn powerful, when he’s fucking. At first I figured he was taking something, even had the nerve to ask him, but he says no. I believe him, because he’s not the type to bullshit, it is just that he likes his sex, likes to enjoy it fully, and that usually means, for me, that I have one fucking sore hole for a few days.

Don’t mind either, because every time I have to run to the can, I remember that feeling, when he hits my special zone. I can sit on the John all day, remembering those moments, which is weird. Don’t think I am some sex pig, I just know that afterwards, I can’t get him out of my mind, or on days like this, when everything just feels like it’s all gone to shit.

I guess too, I just don’t think I could handle Dillon 24/7 or even just on the weekends. I mean the sex is super, even when he’s about to shoot, how he makes that sort of animal cry, then how suddenly my ass is empty, as he pulls his dick out, rips the condom off, and suddenly I can feel the spray whizzing past my back, until it strikes me hard up by the neck.

Have to say, Dillon can cum. I mean he literally coats my entire back with his hot jizz. I rather like it, enjoy the feel of it as it splatters against my taut muscles. How hot it feels, almost like being burned, yet when it cools, it still feels thrilling. I never shower right away, but always wait to the very last minute, long after he’s gone.

And too, the way he just collapses on top of me, after he’s shot his cum all over my back. The press of his entire body weight, crushing and grinding his cum into my skin, feels so, well, perfect. Like it’s a great ending to a wild sex ride. Mind you, that rarely is the end of it, because Dillon is quick to be ready for more. Not like it takes him more than a half hour of puffing, and relaxing on top of my prone body, before once more he’s whipping a fresh condom out of the package, and sliding his cock up and down, between my quivering butt cheeks.

I never can make up my mind, which I like better. The first fuck, or the second one. Both are hard, but different. I mean the first one is quick, in how he enters me, but the second one, he takes his time in penetrating me. It hurts a lot more too, but by this time, I am not leaning over the bed, but stretched out full length on it, with Dillon on top. I like that, and then too, he does seem to make the pain of penetration, special.

It is like a gift, the way he can just take his time at working his thickened cock head between my protesting pink hole. Not to mention my begging for him to take me, but he manages to ignore it all, to go at his own speed. He doesn’t rush this one, as he moves the cock around, so it seems to be an eternity before he pops through.

The pain is instantly gone, as his head just sits inside, my hole totally stretched. God how good it feels, as I can feel my insides wrapping around his head, trying to hold it, though there isn’t a hope in hell of me doing that. Even my cries begging him to fuck me hard, go unanswered for what seems forever.

Then, once he starts, I am begging for him to end it, even though he’s hitting my special zone, with each thrust. Sometimes, he’ll hit it, and just sort of, stick around. He’ll prod me with his cock, pushing and twisting, around that spot, until I am biting my lower lip, from the pure pleasure his actions are bringing me. Those are some very special moments, and I let him know it, not like it seems to matter to him. Least not at the time.

Still, I wonder, if I was to just, well let him know I’d be willing to do more with him, what he’d do? Would he go all S&M on me, or would he just find new ways to stretch my poor hole? Kind of be fun to explore that idea.

Problem with that kind of thinking, is I doubt if my poor body could handle Dillon, unrestricted. I mean he is hard enough to just take what he dishes out.

It is bizarre to be thinking about him, especially on a day like this, but then again, surrendering to him, like I do, well, it might just take away the feelings of these kind of days. Maybe this weekend, instead of the same old, I should give him a call, and really celebrate my birthday.

Okay so it’d be more than a week late, but hell, the good things in life are worth waiting for, and he definitely is one of those good things. And who knows, maybe I’ll get over my nervousness, and let him loose on me. After all, I am forty now, and it’s time to live, isn’t it?

You have been reading:

One of Those Days

Part (2)

By Ian Kovnats (Gaystoryman)

Copyright © 2009 ? All Rights Reserved

Category ¦ Mature

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1Apr

One of Those Days (1)

Part (1)

Ever had one of those days, when the moment your brain heard that god awful beeping from the alarm clock, that you just knew you didn’t want to get out from under the covers? I mean surely you’ve had those kind of days, where you finally kicked the covers off, after hitting the snooze setting a half dozen times, until finally your guilt for still being in bed, kicked in?

Here it was, a Monday, and while I rarely hit the snooze alarm, I must have hit the damn thing about a dozen times, and still, didn’t want to get out. The dog even wasn’t moving much, as if she too wanted to stay under the covers. Kind of like life, at times, and I just knew that today was going to be one of those. I mean the morning schedule wasn’t heavy, not out of the ordinary even, yet it felt like there was more to do than there were hours in the day.

That and it being a Monday, meant that another weekend had ended, without anything to write home about, not that anyone was at home. After all, when a guy is hitting the big Four Oh, it isn’t like you still write home. Sure maybe when you first head off to college, or go out on your own, but come on, that only lasts for a few months, as you get wrapped up in your new life.

Hitting 40 was not old, but damn, it sure made those weekend parties few and far in between. Oh a guy can kid himself, and give it a whirl, but it is just fooling yourself. Okay, so maybe the body has gone a bit to seed, and the stomach just isn’t quite like it was when in the 20’s, but hey, at least it isn’t falling over the belt. Sure the waist line is a few inches bigger, but not like a guy can spent that much time at the Gym, and still pay the rent.

By the way, I am Joshua, Josh to my friends, and last Thursday I turned forty. I never really thought much about it, and to be honest, I kind of think I am not much different than when I was a teenager. I’ve put on some weight, no longer that slender 140 pound gawky kid with blond tussled hair, but I have grown up. So I weigh in at about 180, and the long flowing curly hair is no longer curly, no longer flowing, it is still naturally blond, and no, despite Hanks pronouncements, I don’t touch it up. Besides, how the hell can you tell grey hair from light nearly white blond?

So it’s not quite so long anymore, a guy has to earn a living, and the world out there, well it doesn’t quite get a guy in his thirties wearing hair down to his butt. That was maybe the big change, when hitting that Three Oh mark, having the locks trimmed, and then keeping it short. Naturally the friends, like twat head Mark, who kept calling me an old fart, just because I wanted to get ahead at work. Not like I wanted to always be a pencil pusher, though it just seems like that’s what it is going to end up as being.

Like I have been going to the same bar, most weekends, for the last twelve years, ever since moving here. It was the place to go, at the time, and yet over time, it is just the place. There are other one’s now too, but I don’t know, despite the damn place having about a dozen owners over the years, it is still basically the same. I like it, I suppose, because I am used to it, and even hip Mark still likes it. Though he whines the most, he is always there, sitting in the same damn chair, against the wall, at the same table, that looks out at the entrance.

Not like it used to be though, I mean we were youngish back then, and well the old guys would look us over, as we strutted in, but now, well, we are the old guys looking over the young stuff. Problem is, the young stuff, just doesn’t really show up there, unless they are on the game. I may be 40 now, but I will be damned if I’ll pay for it. Okay, if he’s really cute, and not some 28 year old pretending he’s just eighteen. Man how I hate those kind, where it is obvious they are way older than they claim.

Hank, now he likes to pretend he’s younger. And he really doesn’t quite pull it off, given he’s nearly bald, a year older than me, and well, let’s just say the last time he could fit into a pair of 28 inch pants, was a few years before he headed off to college. Now myself, I am wearing a size 32, which isn’t bad, given I used to wear a size 28 most of my life. Yet you don’t see me parading around in painted on pants, four sizes too small. I like my comforts, one of them is being able to sit and breathe at the same time.

Now I like sex, enjoy a nice cock, but let’s be honest. When you get to my age, you want more than just a quick blow job, or fuck. Maybe that’s being crude, but I learned a long time ago, jacking off can be a whole lot more entertaining, than paying some punk 20 bucks to wrap his lips around your dick. I mean, okay, it can be fun, for the moment, but it is usually over so damn quick. After all, he’s got some dope to buy or in a rush to get to the back to the bar before last call, so it never really lasts long.

Then too, who in the hell wants to wake up to someone, every blasted day, and smell their morning breath, and be expected to act like it doesn’t stink? Call me cantankerous, or just plain ornery, but I told you, I like my comforts. I like to walk in, toss my damn suit jacket on the floor, and not have some Queen scolding me for being messy. I don’t make my bed up every morning, and okay, maybe the sheets should be changed more often, but fuck, there is more to life than doing laundry, dusting, and vacuuming. Least I think so, and yet here it is, another Monday, and not much seems to have changed.

There was no hangover on Saturday or Sunday, which goes to show you, I am indeed forty. Then again, who says having a hangover means you had fun? All it really means is you spent a lot of money, to feel like shit the next morning. Maybe you had fun the night before, but you can’t be certain, because well, you got hammered. Makes no sense to me, and I don’t really care what Mark or the others say, I kind of want to enjoy my life, later on, so why piss away the cash now?

I have nice things, don’t own my place, though the bank account says I could. I’ll leave that for later, when it is time to stop the 9 to 5 drudgery, but for now, I just want to make the cash, get ahead and when the time is right, enjoy the years of work. I want to travel, before the legs give out, before time makes it mark on my looks, so okay, I get up every morning, drink my coffee, check the paper, and head off to that dreary office.

Least it isn’t one of those cubicles, when I started working there, and I do have a rather nice office, that actually has an outside window. Now that isn’t bad for a guy 40, is it? Then too, I manage my own 401K, and unlike others, I didn’t panic and lose my shirt. Sure things are rough, but panic never makes it any better, and I figure, this will pass. Now, Hank, he’s almost ready to jump off a cliff or something, but then shit, he is nothing but a drama Queen. Always has been, and always will be, but he’s been a friend for ages, what’s a guy to do?

It isn’t like I am burying my head in the sand either. I put in long hours at work, because of this stupid recession. I know my middle management level job isn’t the most secure, but I think I can hang on, until things improve. If they don’t, or if I lose it, well, I won’t go shoot myself. I am good at what I do, and am one of the youngest in my position, so I think I could get hired at the other firms, if push came to shove. Course I don’t want to find out, hence the long hours, but it pays off too. Not that I get any extra, but at least I think my job is more secure than say Brenda, even if she is sleeping with our Supervisor.

Speaking of ‘sleeping with’ it brings me up to why perhaps this is just one of those days. Hell, more like it’s been one of those weeks, if not months. It all started with my birthday, which I said was last Thursday. Now I hang out with guys, I have known since elementary school. I not only know their birthdays, but important dates like when Mark had his first blow job, or Hank had his first rejection. Not like I remind them of it, but thing is, I know those dates, and when it is their birthday, I always get them something.

Nothing expensive, because basically I am cheap, but a card at least, buy them a few drinks at the bar, so you would think they could reciprocate, right? NOT! Okay, Mark sort of does, as long as you remind him the day before. No sense telling him any earlier, because he won’t remember, and Hank, well hell, you can tell him on the morning and by afternoon he’ll have forgotten, or so he says.

Never seen a guy with so many excuses as our dear Hank. Then there is Tyler. Now him, I wish he would remember, but then I have had a crush on him, since before I even knew what having a crush was. He is perhaps the closest to my dream man, and unlike the rest of us, he hasn’t changed since he was a Senior in high school.

He’s about my height, six foot, but he’s still got that beefy frat boy look to him. I figure he’s still about 150 to 160, and there is no way you can pinch an inch on his body. He says he doesn’t work out, but shit, looking at how he fills out those shirts of his, how his Pecs look through the silk fabric, he has to be doing something, other than jogging.

I even toyed with the idea of taking jogging up, just to maybe have a chance at joining him in his morning routine. Least until I found out that he starts his morning jogs at around 6am. No friggin way am I getting up that early, to be frustrated watching his firm butt shake ahead of me.  Besides, I’d never be able to keep up with him, and starting every morning off being frustrated, well, I think staying cozy under the covers with the pooch, is a bit more my style.

Still, out of all my friends, he is the one I always think about. I know it sounds crazy, and to have never once told him how I feel, is perhaps stupid. I mean shit, we’ve known each other for decades now, still, I’d rather stare and think of him, than risk him being grossed out, or whatever.

Like don’t you ever think like that? I mean its frustrating as hell to see him, to want him, but you’d rather be that way, than risk having him reject you, or worse, give you a pity fuck. Now that would really suck, and not in the good way. Thought, in my more darker moments, I almost figured it would be worth it, given how fucking hot he is.

Makes you wonder, why we are so attracted to those who are like Tyler? I mean, is it the looks that makes us stare, or is it some unconscious thought that we’d like to look like that, to have the bragging rights to say, “hey, look who we shag”. Makes you wonder too, what do they get out of it? I mean if we are doing for the bragging rights, what’s their reason?

Still, I do wish I’d have the nerve to at least talk to him about it, and there have been moments, like this last weekend, when the opportunity was there. Yet, like a total wusse, I didn’t do it, which is maybe one more reason why I don’t like getting plastered anymore. It was fine when I was in my twenties, but if I did it now, I’d have a lot less friends than I do. I mean, I am sure I’d have told Hank off, especially when it comes to his constant harping of how he never has to pay for it. Never have, Never Will, is his mantra, yet I have seen him pass some of those hot sexy dates of his a wad of cash. And no, there is no way it was small bills, I mean I can tell the difference.

After all, I am in the Investigation Department, so I should know, right? Though I bet good old Brenda wouldn’t tweak to it as quick as I did. Then too, not like I’d want to be bending over for our Supervisor like her, no matter what. Now if he looked like Tyler, well, that might be different. Besides Dennis not only didn’t come close to looking like Tyler, he was butt ugly.

I don’t mind some imperfections, like even Tyler has one or two, though I wouldn’t mind examining them a bit closer. But Dennis, well, it would be hard to find the perfections, over all those imperfections. Like you could start with his bad breath, his body odour, and go from there. The guy is just a pig, and yet Brenda seems quite willing to suffer through all that, just to keep her job. I like the job, but it sure as fuck isn’t worth that, to me.

The thing is, that it was my birthday, and I suppose hitting 40 isn’t what it once meant, but still, you would have thought that my so called friends, would have done something special. Okay, so they had said we’d all go out for dinner on Friday, that became Saturday that is now next weekend. Even Tyler forgot, or seemed to, which is what maybe has set the whole mood.

I’ve never forgotten his birthdays, not one single one, and while the other’s get a card, I’ve always tried to do a bit more for him. I guess it’s my infatuation with him, but damn it, least he could do is return the favour. Not like I am ugly, or gone to seed. Nor do I bullshit like Hank, or always whining like Mark, and I do listen to him, when he’s got something to say.

So what if he’s into Sports and my main interests is in Opera and classical music? I know who Mick Jagger is, and who Brett Favre is, so not like I live in a bubble. Yet, you would think he would have done something, instead of showing up to our bar party, an hour late, then fuck off after having one measly drink with me. I know, we aren’t boyfriends, don’t fuck, but shit, when he turned 30 I took him to dinner, and last year, I got him tickets to the home game of our local football team. And they weren’t cheap either.

Still, he couldn’t be arsed to show up on time, sit and just, well, let me soak in his good looks. I mean couldn’t he have just once, let me indulge in my daydream? I know, I do it often, though I am certain he hasn’t tweaked to it, but this was supposed to be my night, my once a year time to be the center of attention.

Instead Hank picked up some Twinkie hustler, and fucked off for most of the night. Now I don’t mind, after all, sex is sex, though I doubt if the guy Hank went off with was Twenty. Besides, he wasn’t all that hot. He had buck teeth, wore those stupid baggy pants so you couldn’t tell if he had a monster cock, or a teeny weenie. Then too, he never really smiled, and well, even Mark looked surprised that Hank picked him up.

Mark spent most of his time trying to hustle the waiter, who was rather cute, and he knew it too. You know, the kind that could always get you to order another drink, and tip him more than just the change from the bill you handed him. He definitely was the type a guy could enjoy, but then too, he kept telling everyone he was straight. The way he moved his hips, how he would look at you, said no way he was straight. It did get him the attention though, because everyone in the joint seemed to have a yen to bang the straight stud. Truth is, I wouldn’t have minded banging him myself. It has been awhile, though not from a lack of trying. Just that, well the picking were a bit slim.

Okay, maybe they weren’t that slim, but I am just too damn picky. I guess when you reach my age, haven’t had any significant other in your entire life, you sort of get thinking that you have past it. Sex is still a turn on, but then a guy can excited over other things too. Hey, it does help to keep on thinking that, when the only fucking thing you get to sleep with, is a small wiener dog.

Maybe that is what got me pissed off about Tyler? Like, surely he could have stayed for more than a drink, could have done something special, like even a birthday kiss? I really do need to get a new batch of friends, if my biggest hope for the night, was to get a kiss from someone I’ll never get to bang. I mean how pathetic is that?

Yet, I have to admit, the night was okay, and we nearly came close to closing the place down, though that was simply because we kept looking for each other. Mark kept wandering off to try and score with the waiter, and God only knows where Hank had gone with his tart. When he did come back, his shirt was out of his pants, and the knees of his pants were rather dirty too, so we all knew he was down on his knees, but the bar wasn’t near any park, so where he did it, who knows.

Hank was a tramp, to put it bluntly. In some ways I wish I could be that casual about getting sex. I mean, there is something about leaning up against a brick wall, down some dark alley, having some hustler unbuttoning your pants, taking your dick out, and sucking it, that is, well, a turn on as well as a total turn off.

Yet it seems to suit Hank, who we can usually find down the alley, when it’s time for us to go, except the night we were supposed to be celebrating my birthday. Naturally that was the time when it was time to go, no Hank, not in any of the alley’s near the bar. No Hank, yet we had seen him go off with the hustler, and there aren’t any nearby flop houses. No wonder it was close to last call, before we left. Sure as fuck wasn’t because we were enjoying ourselves, least I wasn’t.

And it was supposed to be my night!

Okay, maybe it sounds like a litany of whines, but fuck, here it is, Monday, and I am now in my 4th day of being 40, and the last time I got fucked, was, well let’s just say it wasn’t anytime recent. Like how is that not supposed to make you want to stay in bed, or not go to work? Not like anyone in the office managed to remember, which I didn’t expect.

I guess, it is just frustrating, wanting to get off, and not have a fuck buddy. Maybe that is something to aim for, this year, to find a fuck buddy. You know, the guy you can just pick up the phone, call and then meet shortly after and fuck. Now if only Tyler could fill that need for me, I’d gladly die happy.

I do think about it too much, but you have to see this guy. I managed to catch him in the shower, once. I mean talk about having the need to jack off. Fuck it hurt so much, and I bet that all I saw him for, was maybe three or four seconds. And that was like, well shit, nearly a year now.

He had called, needing a lift from his gym, because his car had been towed. Now, I mean, how does a smart guy like him not put his car into a lot, let alone let it sit expired and get towed? But then, hell, even guys like Tyler have those kind of days, and that was one of them. I didn’t mind, and besides, it would give me an opportunity to be in his company, without having to share him with the others.

Then too, going to his gym was well, a turn on. It was one of those exclusive places, not where just anyone could walk in and join, and frankly, from what I had seen, not one of them needed to workout. Like they weren’t overweight executives, or anything resembling being in need of losing a few pounds. So just the idea of seeing all that beef, was making me drool.

The kicker was, of course, Tyler. To maybe see him in his workout gear, was the thing my dreams are made of. Add into that, that he said if he wasn’t on the floor, to come find him in the locker room, was well, a dream coming true. I kept hoping that when I got there, he’d not be on the floor, that instead, he’d be waiting in the locker room, in a towel and nothing else.

Getting there, not seeing him on the floor, had certainly made me horny, and nervous too. I mean all those others, in various states of pumping iron, of showing off their bulging muscles, and I don’t just mean their biceps. Never have I seen so many hunks in one place, and all of them wearing mostly tight fitting shorts.

God, how I hate the new fashion of baggy clothes, from boxer shorts to pants. Least that day, the guys working out were into the old fashioned, tight fitting, basket showing shorts. I had to have been drooling, but who the fuck cared? I was in heaven, and when I realized Tyler wasn’t on the floor, well it was like maybe my dreams were actually going to come true.

Walking back into the locker room area, was nerve racking. I mean, I had to have been sweating bucket, yet it was certainly worth ruining a good shirt over. I still have that shirt, but I never did wash it. Sort of like it had brought me one good moment in what was rapidly becoming a dreary life. That one time, when he was looking, as how I always imagined seeing him.

I am not certain why, locker rooms are just a turn on. Maybe it is the smell of sweat, of masculinity being exposed, or maybe it is simply the idea of men in various states of undress, but it seems a lot of gay sex, is about the locker room. Hell, even in my more erotic dreams, a locker room seems to figure into it, though I have no idea why. Yet, that day, it was like dying and going to queer heaven.

To begin with, I got to pass inside, and have to turn and lean up against the wall, as this hunk walks by, brushing into me. I mean, talk about a narrow entry point, which made me wonder if the designer of the place, was Queer. Like how much fun is it, to walk in and get up close to another sweaty guy, without having to feel guilty?

Beyond the smell, there is the whole ambiance. I mean it is like walking into a bustling train station, except that most of the passengers are naked. Now that would be interesting, to walk into a place like Grand Central Train Station, and see all those people in various states of nakedness. That would certainly increase commuter traffic, don’t you think?

All that chatter, and not one peep of it with any girlish sounds. Like nothing but manly voices, some in jest, some in sorrow, some out of breath. It was like music to my ears, as I made my way in, looking for Tyler, my heart thundering in my chest, as I passed by each aisle. I made sure to carefully check each one too, and let me tell you, there is nothing like men who aren’t ashamed of their bodies.

I never saw so many cocks hanging out, as I did that day. And I have been to the bathhouses before, but shit, this was so much more natural, so much more arousing. Like what is it about seeing straight men, with their dicks hanging out?

Kind of like some of those scenes I have seen in a Bel Ami video, where all these buff twinks are horsing around, enjoying some friendly banter. It was like being there, as I searched diligently for Tyler. I mean, I had to make sure he wasn’t down any aisle, before moving on, and okay, I did get a few odd looks, but then, I did get to see more than just an eyeful of beautiful men.

There was this one guy, showing how he had posed for something or other. Now it was nice, to see him flex those huge muscles, to see the way his skin rippled, but it was a lot more fun to see how his cock swayed, as he pumped up his arm. I never seen a flaccid uncut cock, that big before. And I have a good collection of porn, but it was nothing to what was on display in that locker room.

I could feel myself licking my lips, hell biting them, as I gazed down each aisle, seeing all kind of cocks. There were even a few, that had to be semi erect, and those one’s, well I had to look at the man, to see if maybe he was, well, you know, family. Like why else would he have a near erection, in a room filled with other naked guys? Course, each time I looked, there was no blaring sirens going off in my head. Not even a flicker, which made me wonder if maybe my gaydar needed some repair.

Surely one or two of them had to be gay, but it just never registered. Yet, I have to admit, those cocks were definitely not soft, and I’d have given anything to have just kneeled down in front, and worshipped them. Course, I didn’t, nor did I even try to make a play for any of them. Maybe I was too scared, or maybe just too pre-occupied with the idea of finding Tyler, looking like them?

Now, Tyler is gay. Of that there was never any doubt, from early on the old Gaydar worked like a charm. Plus, he never denied it, and over time, I know of some of his dates, and how they went. So it was hard for me to understand, why he was a member here, where so many obviously weren’t gay. Or did he have a secret desire to torture himself? I mean what else would you call it, if you were constantly in a place like that, but there was no chance of satisfying your needs?

I had hoped he was down at the end, but naturally my luck wasn’t quite that good. Though that day, I sure thought it had changed. I mean there was this one guy, in the aisle just before where Tyler was, who was bending over, rubbing his thigh, and talk about having a secret weapon. Fuck, the thing had to be over ten inches, and the way it shook, as he rubbed his thigh dry, was, well, let’s just say it made my mouth water, and my ass twitch.

Just thinking of playing with that, was, well, mind boggling. I always wondered, about guys who had such big cocks, if they got as much sex, as we thought? Even straight guys, had to have problems, in convincing their girls to take their meat, either in the mouth or between the legs. Now a guy, well, I know I’d be screaming if he’d be putting that thing into my hole, but I sure as fuck wouldn’t have him stop.

Not sure I could take it, but I’d enjoy trying. Most of the guys I have been with, were average. There were one or two that had a bit more than average, but I never had much of a problem, in taking them all. Still, that guy at the Gym, was way beyond anything I’d ever seen, except in my porn mags.

I’ll admit, I did linger a bit longer there, ogling the guy. I know, it was risky, but not like he was trying to hide it, though I doubt if he could. It did make me wonder, what kind of pants he wore, and what happened when he was walking down the street, and got aroused. Now that is what I would call giving off one hell of a tell tale signal. Could you just imagine that?

It did make me wonder too, if I could even get my mouth open wide enough, to wrap my lips around the head, never mind stretch my throat to take it all down inside. Hell, I doubted if I could even spread my butt cheeks apart, wide enough, to fit his cock head, let alone have it penetrate me. Still, the idea of lubing it up, of tasting it, was thrilling, and I could feel my already hard cock, stiffen even more. God, thankfully the lighting in the place wasn’t all that good, or I’d have been outed right after walking in.

Course, now if the guy with the super sized weapon, had been gay, and got erect, even with the poor lighting, people would notice. It did make me smile, as I reluctantly moved on, to keep looking. Part of me was kind of hoping he had gone, so I could wander around forever, but as I looked down the next aisle, there he was. I have to admit, that after just seeing the biggest cock in my life, live, then to see Tyler, in the buff, was almost more than my poor heart could take.

Man the thing was hammering my chest, as I saw him, in a profile shot, and then the guy in front of him moved, and I got to have my eyes treated to what my heart yearned to see. There he was, totally naked, and I could see the dark patch of his pubic hairs, and yes, I could see the pink flesh of the flaccid dick.

It immediately confirmed my thoughts, that yes, Tyler was uncut, and yes he was above average. I saw how his dick hung down, with a sort of small bend near where the head was hidden under his foreskin. I could even see the drooping flesh, which made me suck in my breath, and almost whistle. I mean, shit to come upon him like that, was what my dreams were always about.

Didn’t matter the scenario, but it was generally where I would find him in some spot, where he wasn’t aware of me. He would be naked, would be looking away, and then I would clear my throat, and his head would turn to see me. His eyes would glitter, as they recognized me, and my eyes would sparkle, as they would gaze at his naked crotch. I would see his cock shake a bit, and start to see it rise up, as he would then call out to me.

Christ, aren’t dreams fun? I mean you can make anything happen, that you want, and here I was, in one of those very dreams, or so it felt. I could see him, and he hadn’t spotted me, and then, just like the dream, he turned and saw me. I saw his eyes recognize me, and I immediately looked down, for a quick peek. Yet, unlike the dreams, his cock didn’t shake, it didn’t start to rise up.

I moved my eyes away, afraid of him noticing, and yet, I don’t know, it was a brief moment when I think we just knew, what the other was thinking. I really think he had asked me to pick him up there, knowing I’d find him naked. Hell, maybe he had even deliberately had his car towed, so he could have an excuse, but then, l do dream a lot, don’t I?

Still, it wouldn’t be a fun life, without a bit of daydreaming, but I gotta say, the more I think back to that time, to all that went on, I wonder, if there is a bit more to the daydreams, to the thoughts of me and Tyler?

Maybe I shouldn’t have moved my eyes away? I mean he knows I am gay, just as I know about him. He’s been around when I’ve gotten lucky, or at least been there to hear about them, just as I have, so what if I was staring? Not like we got anything to hide, and believe me, I’d be quite happy to have him walk in on me, when I was nude.

Yet, I didn’t do it, and I don’t know, even the ride home was anticlimactic, almost disappointing. Yet, for those brief few seconds, when I saw it, saw how it was almost exactly as I had imagined, it was more than just thrilling. Then too, how did I know what it would look like? Was seeing him, finding out his cock was just like I had pictured it, a sign or something? Should I have said something, or at least tried?

To be continued…

 

 

You have been reading:

One of Those Days

Part (1)

By Ian Kovnats (Gaystoryman)

Copyright © 2009 ? All Rights Reserved

Category ¦ Mature

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27Feb

Fiction – Silent Sam

Silent Sam

By Ian Kovnats (Gaystoryman)

Copyright © 2008 ? All Rights Reserved

The dinner plates were removed, and it was time for dessert, which was the usual cookies & tea, as Sam sat back, enjoying the home cooked meal. It was his usual appearance at Brad’s house, and like clockwork, he had shown up at 6pm, sat down, and ate dinner. Nothing unusual there, nor was the silence as he methodically ate what was placed before him.

Yet, as he waited for the tea, he felt the silence a bit more than normal. For years now, he had been a regular Monday dinner guest of Brad. He liked Brad, had gone to school together, grew apart, but as adults had once again renewed their friendship. It had come from the loss of his own parents, and Brad’s as well.

Brad was a few years older than him, considerably thinner too. He had a shaggy cut of thick brown hair, that matched his eyes. It suited his thin face, and pale thin lips as well, while for himself, he was as tall, plus heftier too. He was more of an indoor type, while Brad was the outdoor type. He worked in landscaping, for himself. That impressed Sam, who was one of those fortunate souls that had it all given to them.

His family had been well off, and set things up so he didn’t have to worry. In fact, not much was ever expected of him, and his work experience wouldn’t even fill more than a line or two at best. He led a good life, went his own way, had his own home, fully paid for. One of the perks of being pampered, though he never really thought of it that way. Brad on the other hand, was a working man, who loved to get dirty, loved to enjoy the fruits of his work.

Sam enjoyed his life of leisure, and the Monday dinners were something he also enjoyed. It was someone to talk with, to be around. Yet it never really seemed like they did much but eat, trade a few words, then it was all over. For himself, he didn’t have a social life, while Brad at times could be quite the party animal.

While Brad was 35, and Sam was nearing that magic age of 40, Brad still looked like he was no more than 25. Oh, his face had a few more wrinkles, his skin a bit tougher looking, but he was fit enough to pass as some just out of college stud. Sam never really thought of Brad that way, because as far as he was concerned, he wasn’t a fudge packer.

Brad always seemed to be going into a relationship, or coming out of one, and while dinner was quiet, he managed to always hear about the latest fling, or the latest heart throb. It didn’t bother him, though lately he had been feeling a bit jealous. It wasn’t that he wanted a guy, or a girl even, just that he wanted someone. It was nice to be your own boss, to go as you pleased, do what you pleased, but it was becoming boring.

More than that, it was lonely. It was why he felt lost, when the odd Monday dinner got cancelled. He just felt like his contact with the outside world had been broken. Brad was lucky, he always seemed to have someone phoning, someone to talk with. Sam sat there, finally realizing at what Brad had been saying.

For the first time in years, he felt uncomfortable around Brad. The way he had stared at him, watching him, was strange. At first he thought it might be that Brad had a date or something, but as the dinner had worn on, it was evident there was more to it. It was halfway through, that he had his first hint, which he more or less ignored, unsure how to respond. Silence had been his saviour, but he knew it wasn’t going to suffice.

Looking up as Brad placed the cookies out, and his cup of tea, he knew it was something he had always been afraid of. Intimacy was never something he had experienced. He had dates as a kid, here and there, but they never went very far. Hell, sex wasn’t a topic of discussion in his home, at any time. Now here he was, nearly 40 and basically a virgin.

Yes, he had his dick sucked, had it inside a vagina too, but they were incidents he would most rather forget, than remember. Now here was Brad, bringing all that up in a way he had never allowed himself to consider. Adding the sugar to the tea, he could see Brad wasn’t going to let it go. He had that determined look, the one that had more or less frightened him as a teenager, and still did.

As he twirled the spoon, trying to gain time, he realized just how empty his whole life had been. The only girls he had known, were too fragile, too precious for him to touch. Then too, he was never willing to get close, and other than Brad and Ken, he never allowed himself to get close with guys either. He had thought about sex, he knew how to jerk off, but he never quite enjoyed it.

During High School it had been a torment for him, as so many seemed preoccupied by pursuing it, which he never did. It was hard, and he had never figured out the attraction. Jerking off had been difficult, even with the various magazines he had bought. It just never clicked, never really gave him much joy, now here was Brad, changing all that. Or trying to.

As an adult, sex became a childish hobby. Ejaculation was something that happened at night, alone, while asleep. It meant laundry, not satisfaction for him. As to jerking off, he found less interest in it once he was out of High School. In fact, it was rarely a conscious thought, until he had renewed his friendship with Brad. For some mysterious reason, he found his desire to stroke himself off renewed, almost at the same time that the Monday night dinners began.

Yet for him, the images in his mind was never of Brad, or any guys. Hell it wasn’t even about girls, but was more about good times. There weren’t many of those, but enough that would bring him to ejaculation. He had to admit, he did feel better, but to sit here now, to think of taking that further, was unthinkable. Yet he was actually thinking of it, wondering what it would feel like.

The time he had gone to Europe, to sit and watch the sun rise over the steeples of Moscow, had been something to behold. That he had watched it by himself never seemed to matter, until tonight. It was one of his images, when he would jerk off, when he would take his pants down, and lay on the bed, and just reach down and stroke himself.

He would see the rays of sun begin to lighten the sky, to see little glints of light reflect off the copper roof tops of the various spires, steeples of the churches. His hand would go faster, as his mind would replay that mornings view, of the sun gradually rising, of the light beams turning into strange colors from the metal tops. All of it, would get his heart beating, his lungs aching, as he jerked himself. And as his mind would flash the memory of the sun finally being shown, of the brilliant lights flashing across the entire expanse, he would feel his sticky cum flow through his fingers.

His session done, he would lay there, happy at the memory, pleased with himself. Then too, he would feel a bit guilty, a bit uneasy, but it would pass. He wouldn’t let it ruin the utter peace he was feeling inside, and now Brad was making him think about that unease, about that guilt.

Looking over at his friend, he realized that he was feeling something strange inside. He actually was aroused, least his penis was. That too was strange, because while it happened when in High School, as an adult he rarely felt any such urges, any such discomfort. For a moment, he felt anger at Brad, then at himself. It wasn’t his usual meal, which made him angry as well. Sam finally stopped stirring the tea, and looked at Brad, as he sipped his first taste.

The eyes were fixed on him, taking every movement in, waiting. It was like he really did expect an answer, and not a negative one either. How strange, he thought, as he sipped the tea, and stared back. Did Brad really expect him to acquiesce? If he did, he was going to be in for a rude shock, but then too, the notion of accepting Brad’s proposal, was growing on him. For some bizarre reasoning, it had made sense.

After all, Brad did the cooking, the dishes. He bought the food, came up with the menu for the night, and all Sam contributed was his presence. The meals weren’t bad, decent food and not cheap utility dishes either. Roast some nights, fresh fish other times. They weren’t cheap, so maybe Brad’s proposal wasn’t out of line?

The more he allowed himself to think about it, to see it as a more or less reimbursement, the less distasteful it was. In some ways, it was rather an exciting notion. Judging by his body’s reaction, not an unpleasant one either. Yet, how could he? It was not like he knew the first thing about how to go about it, or even show his acceptance?

Looking over at Brad, he felt himself lost in the possibility of actually agreeing, of not just leaving as was his first thought. Besides, that would be rude, by his standards. The man had fed him, he owed him a reply, or at least some excuse of why he wasn’t about to provide him with his due. Then too, did he want to walk out? Doing so would mean an end to his Monday nights, and frankly, it was the highlight of his week.

Watching television, reading books, even surfing the Internet was poor compensation for the 90 minutes he spent with Brad. Did he really want to end that, over his unwillingness to provide compensation for his meal? It just didn’t seem right. He pushed his chair back, as he usually did when he was having his tea, but this time, he also pushed it to one side, to expose more of himself.

Brad had watched it all, and Sam saw the small curl of his lips, the hint of a smile forming around the thin lips. He found the image rather interesting, rather amazing really. Sam couldn’t explain why, but it had a rather invigorating reaction to his body. Nerves were starting to tingle, sort of like he had felt going up for the first time in a Roller Coaster.

The build up was the same feeling, though a bit more intense as he felt his forehead getting hot, his face a bit flushed, and even sweat on the palms of his hands. It was just like that time, one more of his favourite images, and looking at Brad, he could see the sparkle in the man’s eyes. It was as if he too was feeling what he was, which wasn’t possible, or was it?

As odd as it was, he rather was pleased at the idea that someone could feel as he did. He glanced down, then lifted his eyes upwards, as Brad stood up and moved over towards him. He just watched as Brad came next to him, perhaps the closest they had ever been, physically. It was strange, to smell his perfume, and some other aroma, that was most pungent, yet pleasing. His eyes questioned Brad, but found no response, as he sat there, just staring at his friend. He took it all in, the hair that glimmered in the light from the dining room light. The eyes that seemed to be sparkling and the face that seemed aglow from some inner light. It all was taken in, but unprocessed.

Yet as he stared, he also noticed the bulge, the protruding fabric of the man’s jeans, as he stood close by. He felt the heat radiating from him as Brad stood next to his hand. He was looking down, his eyes doing the talking, his body adding the punctuation marks. It all felt bizarre, macabre, yet exhilarating. Sam could feel his heart beating, feel his pulse racing a bit, as his hand seemed to move on its own, the fingers tentative, shaky even, as they reached up towards Brad’s waist.

That first touch felt like he had put his hand into a thunderbolt. He felt the charge, the excitement, racing towards him, jolting him in a way that made him tremble. His hand pulled back, scared, then was once more at Brad’s waist. It was like he was watching some television show, not actually doing anything. It wasn’t his mind controlling his hand, but some outside force, some other entity actually touching the waist of another man.

Glancing up, he saw Brad licking his lip, the tongue moving slowly across the lower lip, as his hand pulled at the button, to pop it. He felt the excitement, almost as if it was something real, something with substance to it, that could be touched, cut, folded, whatever. He felt giddy, excited just as when he had been given his first puppy dog.

His hand shook, the fingers fumbled as they finally found the strength to undo the button, and actually unzip the zipper. The aroma that wafted up to his nostrils, made his eyes water a bit. It was a scent he finally recognized, the smell of an aroused male. Looking up, he found himself smiling, as Brad just looked down at him, urging him on only with his expression, with his eyes. Sam saw the look, the strange glint, understanding it, at last.

In some mystical way, he knew his own eyes were exhibiting the same glint, the same desire, which only made his fingers work faster, work less hesitantly. He broke off the eye contact, to stare down at Brad’s crotch, to see his fingers pull the zipper all the way down, to push aside the jeans, exposing the man’s underwear. As well as the more pronounced lump that was tenting the boxer shorts Brad wore.

The trembling stopped, his whole body seemed to become like a piece of granite. It was as if his lungs stopped billowing, his heart refused to beat, as his eyes took in the huge lump, that stared at him. His body was rock still, as he watched Brad push the pants out of the way, so only his boxer shorts were left. As he slowly let out his breath, felt the ache in his chest, he knew he wanted to see more, to gaze at more than the light blue fabric.

His fingers somehow obeyed the un-thought thought. They reached up, taking hold of the elastic waist band, and began to push downwards, to reveal the hidden treasure. He saw the dark pubic hairs springing out, felt the resistance from the long tubular object that was pushing them out, until finally it sort of just appeared. Like magic, the thickened pole was out, and Sam leaned back in his chair, surprised by its size, by its appearance.

Leo from UK Naked MenIt was nothing like his own, and despite being nearly 40, it still was a surprise. Gym in school was not one of his more pleasant recollections, and to actually be confronted with an erect penis was to say the least, riveting. Sam had a strange feeling inside, one of wonder, one of desire too, that surprised him, as his finger touched the hot pole. He felt it tremble, felt the blood inside of his body rushing, felt it boiling as his body shuddered. It was odd, nothing like when he held his own penis, nothing like he imagined he could feel.

Maybe it was the hormones, or just the heat, but he felt elated, giddy even. His face was in a huge smile, his eyes were wide open, as he let his finger run lightly over the throbbing pole. He felt the ridges, felt the veins, felt the flow of blood through each pulsing vein. It all made him feel hot, feel like he was floating. Strange thoughts were pushing forward, thoughts he never had allowed himself to consider, as his finger moved along the pole, touching, feeling it quiver.

Sam felt the sticky goo oozing from the tip, and strangely he watched his finger take it, then move slowly towards his own mouth. He couldn’t be doing what he was, but he was. He felt the finger near his mouth, felt his tongue dart out and actually lick at the sticky goo on the finger. He felt his body groan, felt it shiver, stutter even, as the taste made its way through his senses.

Looking up, he saw a glazed look filling Brad’s face. He saw his cheeks sink inwards, as Brad was breathing rapidly, enjoying the sensation of his touch. His touch, his mind was telling him, which made him ache in ways he had never felt. His legs twitched and the muscles in his biceps were also twitching, quivering uncontrollably. Sam wasn’t sure what was happening, but he liked it. It was eerie, but also amazingly pleasurable.

He let his hand move back, to wrap the fingers around the throbbing pole, to slide down towards Brad’s crotch, to press up into the belly, to push at the hair, at the soft flesh. He could feel the tremors inside, from his touch, again feeling amazed at how he could be creating such emotions. It was odd, yet invigorating. His body was enjoying it, as he let his hand move back up the trembling shaft, then circle around the hot sweating head. More of the sticky goo was there, that he smeared across the hot skin, down the searing skin of the penis.

He began to speed up, feeling Brad’s excitement. Somehow it made him go faster, then slower, then faster. Odd how he was enjoying it, feeling the throb of the skin, feeling the blood moving beneath his touch. He could hear Brad as his breathing grew shallow, more rapid, more intense. Sam didn’t look up, enthralled by the motion of his hand and the way it made the thick pole vibrate, shake.

His fingers held the skin tightly, as it moved up and down the pole. The tips brushing against the scrotum, feeling them shake, feeling them tighten even as his hand moved back up the shaft, back around the head. Sam watched the skin grew even tighter, saw the veins swelling as his hand moved up and down. The speed was constantly increasing, his grip growing tighter, as Brad groaned from above.

Sam saw the legs tighten, saw the thighs flinch, as the muscles grew taut. He could see his friends hair standing upright, waving in the room’s air. It was as if they were trying to feel his presence, as if some sort of radar. His eyes couldn’t help but notice the balls sway, to his touch, or how the lower calves seemed to quiver.

His hand motion was a blur, as it sped along that long pole. The sticky goo was no longer oozing, but he could tell that something would soon fill that void. The sound of Brad’s voice growing more strident was a sign he recognized. It was like his own, when he would stroke himself, when his images of fond memories would reach their apex. It was the hard breathes, the gurgle in the voice, the thickness of the pole, that told him what was to happen. Still he couldn’t help but keep his eyes watching, to hold the shimmering cock head in his vision.

He felt himself licking his lips, felt his own body trembling, as the thighs were now vibrating. Brad was saying something, but he didn’t understand it. His ears were filled by the sound of his own beating heart. The thunder of it was amazing, making him shake, as his hand flew along the pole. The heat was intense, the taut skin burning his own palms, as he went even faster.

The loud cry broke through the thundering echo in his ears. He felt the penis pull back, felt the legs shake so hard that they too blurred. Then he felt it, the hot splatter flow through his clenched hand, breaking past between his fingers, and hitting his own stomach. Even through his sweater, he felt the hard jolts of the liquid hitting, felt the force as it blew past his fingers.

He was shaking as the penis jerked back and then came rushing forward, then reared back again, and again. Each time the force of liquid grew less, but it still managed to get past his hand, still managed to work past his fingers. The last stream just barely working through, dripping down the back of his hand.

The body before him shook, as the last milky liquid dribbled out, down his hand. Sam felt like his whole body had just run a marathon. He was weak, his arm dropped to his side, and he leaned fully back in the chair. His legs ached, drained. His face felt flushed, but his chest continued to heave, as he struggled for air. His heart ached, as the wild pounding began to settle, to calm down to its normal steady beat.

Looking up, he saw Brad’s face, saw his eyes flicker, then open. He looked down at Sam, a warm smile across his face, as he bent forward, and pulled his shorts up, then his pants. His chest was still heaving a bit, but it was calming down, as Brad took his seat. He leaned back, staring at Sam. He looked exhausted, as he himself figured he looked. Brad wiped his forehead, then stared at Sam for a few minutes.

Pot Roast for next Monday okay with you?

Garlic bread?

Yep

Okay, sounds good to me.

He got up, not even noticing the dried cum on his sweater, as he picked up his jacket. Monday was over, but he knew he would have some good images to think about until next week’s Pot Roast.

 

Images courtesy of UK Naked Men. Clicking on smaller images will show the larger image. For those seeking Real Men, check out UK Naked Men Here.

26Jan

Fiction – Night at the Opera

Night at the Opera

By Ian Kovnats (Gaystoryman)

Copyright © 2008 ? All Rights Reserved

Tyler ran his finger under his collar, feeling uncomfortable in his monkey suit. Everyone around him was babbling away, extolling the great singing of the stars, but frankly he was bored. He had no idea why he had agreed to get all dressed up in fancy clothes, to go with Mike to watch an Opera. He wasn’t into high brow stuff, but then he couldn’t refuse Mike.

Mike had given him his chance, the opportunity to do what he did love, so attending some fancy charity Opera was the least he could do for the guy. While some assumed he was sleeping with Mike, it wasn’t true. Mike had never even hinted at wanting a sexual or romantic involvement with him, which was fine with Tyler.

After all, he was just 30, and Mike was in his early sixties. The guy had a pronounced bald spot, and his hair was snow white, least what was left of his hair. Plus, Mike was a bit on the paunchy side, while he was still trim and fit. Then too, he did work out, plus his job of landscaping certainly helped keep him lean and muscular. His arms were well developed, and he didn’t think he had much fat on his body.

Mind you, Mike didn’t seem to dispel the rumours either, which sort of bothered Tyler, but hell the guy had advanced him the cash he needed, and he owed him for taking a chance. It was all very proper, and done with a lawyer too, yet some of those queens loved to gossip, and discount Mike’s generosity.

Naturally he had wondered, if maybe Mike really did have ulterior motives, but then he realized, he was being paranoid. Mike never asked much of him, until now and so he had to get dressed up and sit through some screaming old ladies, and guys in tights. It wasn’t a bad trade off, considering what he had to show for it.

Bit stuffy in here, isn’t it?

Tyler turned to see a rather handsome man standing next to him. He had a glass of wine in his hand, and Tyler could see how his eyes seemed to be boring in on him. He had no idea who the guy was, but found his appearance intriguing. He had a sort of shagged cut to his hair, a two toned affair that just seemed to suit his rather rugged looking face.

The man had a pronounced square chin, with a rather hooked nose. The lips were thin and pale, but the eyes, though dark, seemed to be sparkling with life. He was as tall as Tyler, and as well built too, but there was no way he was 30 years old. Maybe closer to 40, but the way he filled out his own monkey suit made him look more like a professional athlete than a stuffed business shirt type.

Yeah a bit.

There is a nice garden out the side, we can grab some fresh air.

Okay, I could use some air.

He didn’t know why, but it didn’t sound like a line, plus he really could use some fresh air. Going with this stranger, wasn’t going to violate any rules, given he was single. Still he could just hear the crowing from some of the others, as he walked behind the stranger. There was Darren, who opened his eyes wide as they passed by, then there was Max, who was nothing but a screaming Queen, always bitching about something, yet never doing much of anything but bitch. They would have the news of his walk outside speeding through the gang in no time, but he didn’t really give a damn. Frankly he was tired of their shit, and this guy was hot, whoever he was.

Standing outside, he breathed in deeply. The air was scented by the various flowers in the garden of the Opera House, and it was relaxing. Tyler could feel his muscles relaxing, his body no longer feeling like it was on display as he sipped at his own glass of wine.

Name is Hayden, Hayden MacDonnell.

Hi, Tyler, Tyler Washburn, nice to meet you.

You aren’t a regular here, how’d you get roped into this, or are you a late lover of Opera?

Me? No, I am not an Opera fan, but a friend asked, and well, he’s a good friend, so here I am.

Hayden stared at Tyler, as he sipped on his almost empty glass of wine. He could see the mind working, absorbing the information, making assumptions like everyone else, or so it seemed to Tyler.

Must be a good friend to get you to put up with all this.

He is, but not in the way some might think.

Hayden chuckled as he finished off the wine in his glass, and looked at Tyler. His eyes seemed to roam all over him, staring at his face, his body, and his crotch. A small flicker of his eyes flashed past as they took in his groin, but it was a fleeting moment. The eyes seemed to capture all of him as they settled back on his face.

Can’t blame them for that, you aren’t what one would call, unattractive.

Thank you, I think, but it doesn’t really bother me, though at times it gets under my skin.

I can imagine, though I don’t know, being under your skin, now that is an interesting concept.

He held his glass to his lip, mouth open, as he stared at Hayden. He saw the eyes flicker, saw the small curl around the lips, and how his nostrils were flaring at bit, as he waited for Tyler’s response. It was strange, but he felt his own body stiffen, grow a bit excited as well. The stirring in his own groin was rather pleasing, as he wondered about the man across from him.

Sounds like you are hitting on me. Are you?

Only if it is appropriate, and welcomed, I’d hate to hit on someone who was, uh shall we say uninterested?

Oh, I am interested, but curious, why me?

Hayden smiled, and Tyler saw the creases in his face, the wrinkles that became laugh lines and how the eyes seemed to sparkle even more, was amazing. It seemed like he had dropped years in appearance, and now Tyler revised his estimate, thinking perhaps Hayden wasn’t much older than him.

Does it matter why?

No, no I guess not, just, I don’t know, curious I guess, maybe I am just fishing for compliments.

I see, and yet I don’t think you really seek compliments or need any ego boosts. I think, frankly, that you are sure of yourself, enough so, that you don’t need some meaningless flattery, empty platitudes, which maybe is also answers your question.

Tyler felt his legs tremble a little, and he felt like he was suddenly in the presence of someone special. The words were flowery, and yet they seemed to strike deep inside of him. He could feel his heart quicken a little, as he did enjoy the compliments given, even if they were said in a way that made them not seem like compliments, but more like facts. It felt as if Hayden knew him, knew him in a way that no one else did. A bit scary actually, as he smiled at Hayden.

Damn, you are good.

Thank you Tyler Washburn, but I am good at other things too, if you are interested in finding out.

The wink at the end made him almost fall to the ground. His legs became very weak, but somehow he held his ground. This guy was truly good, and yet for some strange reason, he felt totally out of his league. It was strange, to be pursued this way, so openly and yet not. The obvious inference was tantalizing, as he drained the last of his wine, knowing he couldn’t just walk away.

I certainly am, Mr. McDonnell.

Hayden took the empty glass from Tyler’s hand, and placed it down on the edge of the planter they were standing next to. He moved in closer, to a point where Tyler could smell his cologne, and feel the warmth of the man. His eyes stared deeply into Hayden’s, when he felt the arm reach around his waist, and pull him in closer.

The touch of Hayden’s lips on his was like a match flaring. His whole body shook as he felt the brush of lips on his, as he felt the fingers dig a bit into the flesh of his back. His knees felt like they were about to buckle, as they embraced.

Hayden pulled his face back, as he smiled. He reached for Tyler’s hand, as he softly muttered ‘tasty’ and then led Tyler off the cobblestone footpath. They went behind the planter where Tyler had left his empty glass, to move in among the tall plants, and brush that filled the yard.

In a strange way, it felt rather naughty, to be walking in expensive shoes, dress pants, through bushes, while a few feet away hundreds of others were drinking wine, talking, and waiting for the intermission to end. To them, the Opera was the show, and yet Tyler felt like he was about to see the real show.

The brush of plants across his legs, the darkness of the night, broken by the yellow glow from the large glass windows of the Opera House only added to his sense of excitement. He had no idea where they were going, but Hayden seemed to know his way around.

They pushed some branches aside, and suddenly the yellow glow was gone. The area was pitch black, and all he could see was a shadow outline of the man who had led him here. He could hear the hard breathing too, as he looked around, smelling the scent of earth, mingled with the fragrance of the flowers.

His eyes became accustomed to the darkness, and Tyler could make more shapes out, see a bit clearer. His heart was pounding, as Hayden reached out, and grabbed him tightly in his arms. He felt his body being pulled towards the man, who suddenly was kissing him hard.

Tyler felt his lips being assaulted, as the force of the kiss took him by surprise. His lips parted, as Hayden’s tongue quickly darted inside. He felt it lick at the roof of his mouth, play with the tip of his own tongue that seemed to have been taken by surprise. He exhaled, feeling the excitement growing inside of him.

Blake MasonHayden’s hands were moving up and down his backside, reaching for his buttocks, grabbing a handful of his flesh, and squeezing Tyler’s fleshy cheeks. His body reacted on its own, as he found his own hands roaming along Hayden’s side. He felt his fingers reaching around, grabbing Hayden’s buttocks, feeling Hayden’s body react, feeling the thrill his touch gave the man.

The kiss was hard and soon he found Hayden’s lips pressed against his chin, then underneath it. He felt the warm press, the hot breath waft across his neck, as the man licked the hollow of his neck. His head was tilted back, and his hands were up holding Hayden’s shoulders, when he felt the hard press against his groin.

Hayden had moved one hand to grope at Tyler’s groin. The hand moved his stiffening cock and then he felt the fingers struggling at the waistband. Soon he felt his pants being opened, felt the hand quickly dart inside to take hold of his fully aroused cock. He moaned as he felt the fingers wrapping around his cock. The fingers spread outwards, and with the palm of his hand, Hayden began to rub his cock, the soft silk material of his shorts making it seem effortless.

His lungs began to ache, as he held onto Hayden, letting his hand move across his belly, his groin. Then he felt the hot fingers push past his shorts, to dig down inside, to touch his throbbing cock. The touch of flesh on flesh made him squirm a little, made him moan a bit more.

Tyler felt the cool night air waft across his belly, his skin exposed. He knew his shorts and pants had been pushed down, and he felt one of his own hands reach down, and pull up his shirt, as Hayden lowered himself to his knees.

His body trembled, as he felt the soft kiss on his belly, felt the tongue lick at his exposed belly button, then lick downwards, towards his groin. The tongue moved slowly, and he found his free hand now clenching tightly Hayden’s shoulder.

Tyler pushed his legs apart, as far as possible. His stance was wide, as he felt the man licking at his pubic hairs. Each one seemed to be standing up, as Hayden licked them, touching the soft skin beneath, grazing it lightly with his tongue. Moaning constantly, he felt the man shuffle in closer, felt the hot breath across the top of his erect cock. His body was tightening, the muscles becoming like steel.

He shut his eyes, his head tilted backwards, as Hayden licked at him. The tongue licked down and around his cock, tasting the flesh between his groin and thigh. Tyler groaned, as waves of pleasure came rushing up. His head became a bit dizzy, light headed, as Hayden’s tongue continued to lick around his cock. The quick darting caress of his scrotum, made his legs quiver.

Hayden certainly was good, as the tip of the tongue prodded each of his balls, lightly moving them around in the sac, then suddenly he felt the tip up against the bottom of his cock. He felt it dig at the base of his cock, then slowly lick around the whole shaft, at the very base. His body shook, as the man’s stubble brushed against his cock, as the face moved around, while the tongue continued to taste him.

Then his whole body suddenly felt like it was on fire. Hayden let his tongue lick upwards, on the underside of the throbbing pole. Slowly it licked at him, right up to the tip, where it moved over the cock head, licking up the pre cum that was oozing out. Then it circled around the head, tasting the flesh just under the head.

The tongue pressed hard on the skin, and he felt his cock moving, as once more Hayden’s tongue moved down the underside, back down towards his groin. Tyler whimpered, as the tongue licked around the base of the cock, then began to slowly travel up the shaft, on the top.

His body was shaking uncontrollably, as the tongue licked up, stopping at the cap of his cock head. Then it moved around the head. A hand held his base, as he heard the sounds, felt the raspy edged tongue lick at his cock. His own nostrils were flaring, as he tried to suck in the air, but he couldn’t. His whole body was on fire, as he felt Hayden pull his mouth back, then he felt the warm press of the lips at the tip of his cock.

His head fell backwards, his hips shot forward, driving his cock between the lips, but Hayden was ready for him. He let his head move back, just a bit, so that the head couldn’t fully penetrate his mouth. His lips grew tighter before his head moved back in towards Tyler. They slowly allowed his cock head to enter, and he felt the saliva coat the head, mixing with the oozing pre cum.

Finally his cock was buried inside of Hayden’s mouth. It felt unreal, as the lips continued to press tightly on his cock, the man’s nose wedged into his groin. He felt like all the air in his lungs had been pushed out, as his chest heaved. His heart was pounding, the pulse was racing so fast he was sure he’d have a stroke.

Hayden seemed to sense his need, as he began to pull back, then push forward. Tyler’s hips were starting to move too, matching Hayden’s head movement. His was fucking the man’s face, feeling his hard cock banging against the inside of the mouth. He felt it go down the opening of the man’s throat, felt the muscles of the throat constrict around his pole.

Men Over ThirtyHe had many others suck his cock, but none seemed to come close to making him feel like this. His body was shaking all over, his eyes were glazed over, as he struggled to hold back, to not surrender so fast. It was hard, but each time he thought he was winning, Hayden would twist his mouth around his cock, and he would begin to lose his control. Then it would ease, let him take charge again, which soon was once more on the brink of being taken away.

He had no idea how long it went on, but as he once more felt like he couldn’t hold on anymore, the pressure didn’t stop. This time it went further, as Hayden reached between his legs, his tongue licking around the cock head inside his mouth. His hand moved under his balls, a finger moving up between his buttocks, and then his hand lay across both cheeks. It pushed him into Hayden, making him stumble a bit, making his cock dig deeper in the man’s throat.

Then the hand moved away, a single finger now prodded him, and before he could stop, it was impaled into his rectum. He cried out, the sudden penetration making him tremble, making his nerves tingle. Then the tongue licked his cock, and he felt his body going over the edge. His mouth was open, his tongue handing out, his eyes rolled back into the socket, as he felt the explosion deep inside.

The finger dug deep into his rectum, his cock was taken deep into the throat, as he felt Hayden’s nose digging into the soft belly of his groin. His body shook, his legs trembled, his arms fell to the side, as the blood left them, rushing to his throbbing cock.

A soft gagging sound barely registered, as his heart suddenly roared in his ears. It was like being in a long tunnel, with a jet engine roaring in the distance. The sound was deafening, as his heart thundered, as his body became a series of rolling spasms. His balls hurt, his buttocks clenched tightly, making the finger move inwards a bit further, and his hips shot outwards, with all of his weight behind them.

Hayden held his ground, as Tyler felt his cock lodged firmly into the man’s throat. Then he felt it rear back, felt it tremble, then felt the rolling thunder inside of him explode outwards. His whole body shook, his head was swimming, his eyes closed tight was reflecting brilliant flashes of red and blue bolts. His hips were pressing into Hayden’s face, trying to press inside, past his mouth, as his cock released its milk.

He didn’t know how many times he had cummed, or how much. He was exhausted, ready to fall to the ground, as his entire body seemed spent, seemed totally exhausted. He felt himself still trembling, as his cock came free from Hayden’s mouth. Tyler couldn’t believe how drained he was feeling, as he sensed Hayden’s figure now standing in front of him, no longer kneeling.

The man’s arms reached out, and wrapped around him, and he collapsed into them. He was totally exhausted as he let Hayden hold him upright. Slowly he managed to feel like he could stand on his own, and lifted himself up out of Hayden’s embrace.

Jesus’ was all he could say, as he pulled his shorts up and then his pants.

The bell just sounded, intermission is over.

Tyler looked at Hayden, and he couldn’t help but wonder what the man would do for a finale.

That was no intermission for me, more like a hell of an opening act.

Hayden laughed, as he brushed his trousers off, and began to lead the way out from behind the bushes. His hand was warm to Tyler’s touch, and it felt like tiny electrical shocks as they made their way back to the pathway.

Take my card, phone me when you get home, and I’ll see if I can’t arrange a killer final act for you.

Grinning from ear to ear, he took the card, and put into his pants pocket, his hand holding it tightly. He knew he didn’t have to say a word, that his expression was enough to tell Hayden to expect his call.

Most of the people had already left for their seats when they made their way back inside. He saw Max staring at him, his eyes bulging wide as he took in the two of them, and the state of their attire. He didn’t give a damn what the little shit thought, as he just kept the huge grin on his face, his hand clutching the card in his pant’s pocket.

He couldn’t wait till this Opera was over, so he could continue with his own personal one, with Hayden.

8Dec

Fiction – Wee Willie

Wee Willie

By Ian Kovnats (Gaystoryman)

Copyright © 2007 ? All Rights Reserved

it isn't just size that countsAs Willie pulled on the green elf boot, he could feel the other’s in the change room snickering. He had felt all of them staring when he had walked in, to begin his first day’s work at the local department store. He was the new Christmas Elf, and even the old man playing Santa had smirked. Okay, so he wasn’t like them, and being an elf was something he could manage, not from any special skill, but simply because he was a ‘little person’.

In some ways it infuriated him, the way so many looked down on him, not because they were taller, but from some strange sense of superiority, all because they had grown above 4 feet in height. It sucked, as he pulled the hat on, hearing the snickers coming from a couple of men down the aisle.

What pissed him off the most, was the way they all assumed that being little, meant he was little everywhere. Even the few he had managed to take home, until he had met Skylar, had been surprised at his equipment. If those two jerks smirking only knew, they wouldn’t be so quick to judge. Now Skylar, he was one in a billion, or more. Just thinking of him, made him feel good and took some of the anger away.

Sky, the nickname he gave him, was a typical red blooded stud. The guy was nearly 30, a year or two younger than him, but you would never know it from his looks. He stood close to six feet, had a college boy’s body with one of the cutest asses you could imagine. Long legs that were muscular, to go with the rest of him. The long blond hair and blue eyes were the finishing touches to a perfect look.

Yet more than that, he didn’t have a single prejudiced bone in his body. Willie could still recall that first meeting, down at Dick’s Delight, the local gay bar. It was one of the few places that didn’t make him feel like a freak. Unlike the more fashionable places, no one offered him a high chair, no one told him ‘kids’ weren’t allowed. Like any kid would have a beard shadow like him, but all they ever saw was his height. Not at Dick’s. He was treated with respect, something he wished his co-workers would learn.

Still, it was where he had met Sky, where he actually fell in love for the first time in his life. It had all happened because some drunk had stumbled in, and before the staff could toss him out, Sky had come to his aid. The drunk was being abusive, and Sky had quietly and very effectively sorted him out. He never did find out what he had said, but they had enjoyed a drink together, and just talked.

Unlike many of his other ‘normal’ friends, Sky didn’t make it awkward. They didn’t talk about his height, not at first, and it didn’t seem like he was just avoiding it either. That warmed Willie up to him, as it just felt normal, no hidden apprehensions.

Bringing Sky home had been an experience too. He had his own home, not a flat or rental. After all, just because he was a ‘little person’ didn’t mean he had a small brain. He was good at figures, damn good in fact. His little mathematical tweaks had made his monthly salary get him his home, and while it was expensive to maintain, he managed.

Sky was the first to visit him at home. It was a bit awkward, as he had the furniture for his height, not for what other’s called ‘normal folk’. What was amazing was how Sky didn’t make a deal of it, he just slouched down on the floor, leaning against the chesterfield.

The only awkward moment, was that first venture into sex. It was strange, but he never had someone want him, least not the way Sky had. Still did too, but it was the one time when his height was an issue. Still, the way they talked, discussed it and before he knew it, he was being kissed on the lips by the blond giant. The taste of his mouth, was like tasting a bubbly wine. It just felt so good, that he could feel his whole body shaking.

The erection didn’t go unnoticed either. Sky had stared at the bulge in his pants, his eyes bulging as he kept staring to the point where Willie asked if he’d never seen a guy with a hard on before. Sky had blushed, and it was a perfect sight to see. The cheeks turning pink, surrounded by his long flowing hair was a real turn on for him. Made his erection even harder, which he hadn’t thought possible.

His answer was perfect too, when he said of course he had, but never one that looked so inviting. It made him feel good, and he couldn’t explain it, even now, but it had made him want Sky, want him to take him too. Maybe that was why he had stood up and simply dropped his pants.

Whatever the reason, the reaction he received was worth it. The eyes seemed to bulge as they took in his tiny frame, and well endowed penis. It was hard, sticking out, not what some would call huge, but certainly not below average. On his frame though, it did look menacing. Skylar merely licked his lips, exclaimed his pleasure, and before Willie could reply, he felt the man’s hands around his waist, pulling him in closer.

That first touch of his hands, around his naked waist, made every part of him tingle. Sweat suddenly was beading up on his forehead, as Skylar’s powerful hands pulled him close, to the point where his hard cock was an inch or less from the man’s watering mouth.

Others had been surprised by his size, but none had shown the desire that Skylar showed that night, and ever since. It was like a perfect match, or mis match as some would call it. The way Skylar couldn’t seem to keep his hands off him, to touch him, to hold him. It was unbelievable, and damn erotic as hell too. The way his hands would move across his flesh, touch him in ways no one had ever done, not even himself. There was something special about it all, and Skylar didn’t rush either.

Despite the growing look of hunger in his eyes, the way they sparkled as they stared at his cock, was like a fire growing in intensity. From a puff of smoke, to a tentative little orange flame, to suddenly becoming a white hot ember with dancing blue flames, it all was reflected in his look. Yet he took his time, touching him, feeling his body, his muscles.

The hand that reached out to run lightly over his hard cock, almost made him shoot his load right then. Only by chance had he held back, as the fingers moved lightly over his shaft, barely touching. The light pressure was more arousing than if he had simply grabbed hold of it.

It was as if he was trying to feel the blood the pulsed through the veins, the way he touched him. How his hand lightly brushed over his leg hairs, his pubic hairs. The soft caress making his nerves tingle, his muscle quiver. It was the most sensual feeling he had ever experienced. Time seemed to have stood still for him, as he stood there quivering, this strange blond giant tenderly exploring his naked body.

As Skylar touched him, he would now and then bend over, and press his lips lightly against Willie, a soft brush that somehow made him tremble. His buttocks ached, would clench each time the strands of blond hair would brush across his body.

When he leaned down, to kiss Skylar, he could feel the man’s own arousal. The way he caught his breath, nearly choking as they tasted each other. The way his tongue and Skylar’s duelled between their mouths. It had made him woozy, light headed. Yet the strong arms held him from falling forward, and then he felt the lips on his chest.

He was panting, his chest heaving as Skylar licked at his right nipple, teasing it and then carefully clutching it between his teeth, nibbling at the firm flesh, pulling even on it, then licking all around it. He had shook so hard, he was certain he would fall over, but Skylar kept him upright, his long tapered fingers digging into his skin.

Even as he felt them dig in, he could feel them tremble, feel them shake to the raw emotions that were passing between them. It was like an electric thunderstorm had erupted between them. Each time they grew close, each time their bodies touched or grew closer, jolts of electricity would pass between, charging them inside.

His heart was aching, thundering so loudly that everything else was off in a distance. Every other sound seemed so far away, as his beating heart filled his ears. The light touch on his balls, the way the fingers would lightly caress the tiny pubic hairs, making them stand on end, quiver and sway. It all made him even more aroused, more determined to please Skylar, and even as that thought raced inside, he knew it seemed to be Skylar’s desire too, to please him, the freak, the little person.

Willie couldn’t help but keep thinking of those things, but as Skylar touched him, caressed him, they became less conscious, less intrusive. Soon he was hardly even worrying about it, as his whole body was feeling like an electrified fence. The merest touch making him spark, making his body quake. His body felt so alive, so different that he didn’t recognize himself. It was like he was someone totally different, as he felt himself move in closer, felt his body grow hotter with each passing second.

The touch of Skylar’s lips on the tip of his cock made him moan. It was soft at first, then slowly he felt the lips parting, felt his body being pulled in more, as Skylar’s head grew closer. He could feel the long hair raking his sides, his skin. The hot breath of the man on his cock was too much, making him groan louder. Feeling the teeth as his cock was slowly taken inside, only added to his growing ache. Every nerve was tingling, every part of his body was sensitive to even the air moving in the room. His body hairs were on edge, as he felt the lips tighten over his cock head, slowly pushing along, to take it all.

His pre cum was quickly gone, swallowed in one swoop. His legs trembled, as Skylar’s hands moved around to clasp his butt cheeks. The fingers dug hard into his flesh, making him wince and moan at the same time. His eyes were shut tight, as he knew, if he watched, he’d cum now.

It was hard to not give in. He ached so badly, he knew it was only seconds before he’d give in. Skylar seemed to sense it, as well. His mouth suddenly tightened even more, the fingers dug in harder as Skylar’s head moved quickly down the throbbing pole. His nose dug deep into Willie’s soft groin, pressing hard. The tongue licked around the pole wedged deep into Skylar’s moth.

His legs grew rigid, blood was rushing from his tiny body all over to his throbbing cock. He felt his eyes fluttering, flashes of lights of all colors exploded behind his eyelids. His breathing was short and labored, his heart rose its thundering cry even more. Every part of his body was suddenly shaking.

He felt himself leaning forward, his hands resting on Skylar’s shoulders as his balls slung upwards, striking hard into his upper body. His muscles tightened even more, strangling his insides, twisting them in utter agony, as he pushed back against Skylar. His cock came out, as he grabbed hold with one hand, and quickly stroked it, aiming it right at Skylar.

His eyes were still fluttering, as he felt his body suddenly explode. At the single moment, his eyes opened, as he stared out and down. He saw the glazed hungry look in Skylar’s eyes, wide open and staring intently at his cock. He could see the head, moist and glistening from Sky’s saliva.

Then he saw the mouth open, as his cock head reared backwards, then shot forwards. The ache in his balls suddenly released, as his precious man milk was forced out and up into the long pole, aimed at Skylar’s face. He watched, his own eyes, bulging as the hot stream of milk came jetting out.

He watched the first long splatter across the bridge of Skylar’s nose, then down underneath it. He saw the upper lip tremble, as the second stream came flashing out, smacking the lips, then disappear into the wide open mouth. He felt his body shake, felt his legs quake, as more of his milk came rushing out, splattering across Skylar’s lower face. Gobs of his milk dotted the nose, the corners of the mouth, and chin. He could see it all spreading out as it hit, see it splatter. Willie could hear the thunder in his ears, hear the cries which were his own. His body gave one last hard shake, one final tremor raced through his entire 4 foot tall body.

Willie fell forward, his face nestled into Skylar’s shoulder. He felt two strong arms encircle him, hold him even tighter as he realized at how much Skylar was also shaking. He could smell himself, his own powerful man scent, as Skylar held him close.

Never had he felt such a release, such exhaustion as he had that first time with Skylar. The rest of the evening had even been more special, and as he walked along the hallway towards the Toy Department, he thought he heard his name being called. He shook his head, as he realized it was his name.

Turning around, he saw two of his cohorts walking behind, then he spotted Skylar. The tall man was running to catch up to him, and he blew past the other two men, who watched in fascination as the tall man came up to Willie.

‘When is your lunch break? Want to grab something together?’ he asked, which made the two men behind snicker. Skylar turned around, as one muttered about Mutt ‘n Jeff, and how the local diner had a kid’s platter on sale.

Willie felt deflated, as he listened to their laughter, which suddenly ended abruptly. He looked up, to see Skylar was standing in front of both men. His body was rigid and he could see how held himself, taut and filled with anger. It was amazing to watch as Skylar stood there, taller than one, same height as the other, when he spoke.

Least he has a heart that is bigger than the stone in your chest, and he might not stand as tall as you, but you know something mate, he is a giant when it comes to being a man, not some shoddy excuse for one, like you and your friend here.

He turned around, then stopped, and turned once more to face the two other men, who still hadn’t said a word. Their mouths were still open, their jaws hanging down, when Skylar looked at them both, then at their crotches.

He looked hard at one, then gave a snort as he turned back and laid his hand on Willie’s shoulder. He began to walk forward, with Willie, when he looked down, smiled and in a loud voice proclaimed that Willie should ignore those two jackasses. It was obvious they had a bad case of ‘penis envy’.

Willie couldn’t help but laugh, his mood once more back into being happy, as he grinned from ear to ear, glancing back every few steps to enjoy seeing the stunned look on the other two.

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