Date: Sat, 7 Apr 2007 02:39:07 -0400
From: S
Subject: Straight Guy!

I

	Beats of metal blared throughout the flashing surroundings, and the
place reeked of beer.

"You can come to my apartment," Claire said seductively.

Jason could scarcely believe his ears.  How could his luck have
turned--especially after weeks of attending the same college sophomore
class and somehow, being unable to hook up with this beauty?  He
smiled--and felt his cheek dimples.  "Are you serious?"

	"Yeah," Claire assured.  She turned her head toward the bar
counter, took her goblet, and sipped from the dewy glass.

	Jason eyed Claire and ahed like a camel begging for cold water
under the noon sun of the Sahara.

Claire set down her glass of clear wine, then slowly swiveled toward Jason.
"I am all yours."  She grinned girlishly.  "There is, however, one catch."

"Anything," Jason said breathlessly.

Jason's short hair was brown as wheat, and it fountained back from the top
of his diamond-shaped face.

Claire ran her ballerina fingers through Jason's hair.  "I'll tell you in
my car," she said.

"You're driving?"

"You got a problem with that?" Claire said.

"Nuh-uh," Jason muttered.

Claire took Jason's hand and jested him away from the counter.

Jason nearly spilled his beer.

Never had the yellow coupe with the black top glistened as intensely as
that night--not even on that sunny afternoon when Jason followed Claire
from sociology class to the student-union parking lot.  The closer they got
to the car, the faster Jason's heart raced.  The butterfly-shaped passenger
doors hummed up, and Claire crossed to the driver's side.

Jason inhaled a gulpful of autumn air.  He puffed tensely and crouched onto
his black seat of leather.

The doors hemmed down, and an ear-ringing silence permeated the inside of
the coupe.  The interior also discharged a scent of mint leather, sprayed
carpets, and fresh plastic.

The olfactory flavors brought Jason the image of a triangular tent of
yellow.  That tent his father had given him for his 13th birthday.  Now,
Jason was excited by the promise of a different kind of present.

The guy stared deeply into the chick's orbs.

Claire's hazel eyes sparkled like diamonds in a dark cave.

Maybe it was Claire's childlike innocence that drove Jason bonkers.  Or
perhaps, it was that Claire didn't look slutty like so many girls on
campus.  Never had Jason seen a chick whose hair streamed so gracefully
over her shoulders.  As if this weren't enough, Claire's locks of ash-brown
glittered like the moonlit canvass of a covered wagon.

Let's fuck right here! Jason's eyes crackled.

Claire led Jason's hand toward a tit.

Wow! Jason thought, goggle-eyed.  The sophomore was sure that he had the
perfect babe beside him--a girl virginally celestial and yet, earthly
human.  Parched with lust, Jason descended onto Claire's mouth.

Claire sucked back.

Jason shut his eyes and focused on the bittersweet taste of Claire's lips.

Claire's hair smelled of strawberry shampoo.  The fruitiness blended with
the cornstalk scent of her face.

The particles tickled Jason's nostrils like a mouthful of fizzing soda,
flitted down his throat, and pricked the skin of his stomach.

Jason sucked Claire's lips harder, groped her squishy casabas, and bent his
knees toward her bared navel.

Claire raised the curtain of Jason's abdominal stage to the audience of her
fingers.  Like the feathers of a parrot, the Henley tickled the skin around
Jason's abs.

Jason tensed his closed eyelids and moaned with the urgency of a
wanting-to-pee adolescent.

Steamed bars of soap, Claire's hands caressed Jason's lean flanks.

Jason hummed long and hard into Claire's mouth.  His hormones were famished
as a nut-cracking squirrel.

Suddenly, the girl pulled back!

Jason opened his eyes.

"There's someone I want you to meet," Claire said.  She glanced toward the
rumble seat behind them.

Jason's eyes flashed back.  "Whoa!" he said, ripping his palms away from
Claire's strap blouse.

Claire eye-fingered the shorthaired blond, who was wearing shiny boxers of
deep-blue.  "This is Wesley."

Jason leered at him.  "You're that dude from sociology class."

The blond nodded eagerly, and his glittering eyes radiated an angelic
beauty.

Jason frowned suspiciously.  "Nice to meet you."

Wesley spoke with the purity of an altar boy.  "I'm glad you finally met,
outside the classroom."

"Jason and I got acquainted at that bar," Claire said.  With her nose, she
pointed toward the green canopy on their right.

Like after a breaking wave, silence washed over every cubic space of their
surroundings.

The stillness drove Jason mad with irritation.  "Is he gonna join us?"

The quiet shattered as if to a crashing brick.

"What would make you say that?" Claire lipped, waxing innocent.

"Come on," Jason said, shifting his eyes toward her.  "He's waiting for us
here."

"Calm down," Claire said.  Gently, she took Jason's hand and placed it on
the border between her flower-printed miniskirt and her mildly tanned leg.
"You will get to fuck me.  But I love Wesley.  Whatever he yearns for, I
take into consideration."

Jason slid his model's hand away from Claire's leg.  "What are you saying?"

"Before you fuck me, you must let him suck you," Claire said.

Jason puffed a laugh.  "You gotta be kidding me."

Claire shook her head seriously.

"What is the world coming to?" Jason protested.

"Wesley's the one who'll be on his knees," Claire said.

"And why would you want to do that?" Jason said, turning abruptly to
Wesley.

"Because dudes are awesome," Wesley squibbed.

The potpourri of outside lights rendered the fairy's eyes with a silver
glow in the dark.

Jason scowled in befuddlement and glinted over Wesley's legs.

They were firm as mangos and had a tint of pink under moonlight.

"You queers are really twisted," Jason said.

"How so?" Wesley said.

"Look at you!" Jason yipped.  "Your legs, for instance, muscular like a
star athlete's.  How the hell are straight guys supposed to tell you
apart?"

"Ain't that grand?" Claire said excitedly.

"For you, maybe!" Jason said.  "But what about people like me?  We're the
ones mixing with his kind without knowing it--heck, even becoming buddies
with them!"

"Wesley's willing to suck you dry," Claire said emotionally.  "Then, you
get to fuck me.  What more do you want?"

Why, Jason wondered, did things too-good-to-be-true always have to

backfire?  "I thought I had problems in my hometown," Jason groaned.  "But
you people from Vancouver are something else."  He gritted his teeth with
the tension of pliers turning the screw of a bicycle.

Silence rippled through the inside of the coupe like the spaces between the
final notes of a loud-and-abusive funk song.

"Fine!" Jason gruffed.  He settled back on his seat.  "Let's drive to your
apartment."

"Fine!" Claire said.  She placed her palm on the ignition scanner.

Jason jolted out of his seat like jack-in-the-box and pointed wrathfully at
Wesley.  "But don't try to pull any funny stuff!"





II



About 5' 11" Wesley and 5' 8" Jason stood side by side.  They inhaled the
mildly flowery aroma of the living room and eyed Claire.

A wily grin tiptoed across Claire's face.  Starting at the bottom, she
teasingly unbuttoned her white blouse.

Jason ahed with a scorched-dry throat.  Wesley mmmed as if Claire were a
lump of chocolate fresh out of the oven.

Claire bared her brassier of pearl-white.

The sight of butterflies on silk pleased and calmed Jason.  He nodded as
though to a catchy tune.  "Take `em off."

Claire rotated aside like an ice skater in slow motion.  She twisted her
fingers around the back of her bra.  "Ooohh!" she crooned, turning back
front.

Claire's plump, tawny tits drew a rushing sigh from Jason's lungs, and he
reached out to knead the ripe cantaloupes.

Claire restrained Jason's hand.  "First, you have to lend Wes your cock."

Pensively, Jason dropped his eyes toward the kinky-as-an-Afro rug of
beige--a rug so new that it left shiny hairs of gold on the hems of his
corduroys.  "Am I supposed to do it here?"

"Don't you like variety?" Claire lipped.

"Yeah, but--"

"Then, get on with it," she said.

Front-left of Jason, Claire sat on a bean sofa that flaunted a blue sky
with clouds of whipped cream.

"How long must I--"

"Until you cum," Claire said.

"How am I supposed to fuck you after?" Jason erupted.

"You're a virile, straight guy, aren't you?" she said.

"Yeah, but--"

"Then, what's your problem?"

"Just tell me one thing," Jason said.  "What do you get out of this?"

"Pleasure from watching Wesley in ecstasy," Claire said.  She got
comfortable by a throw pillow.

Jason frowned in confusion.

Excited like a kid in a candy store, Wesley peeled off his yellow soccer
shirt.  He began to remove Jason's beige Henley.

"Whoa!" Jason said, spinning right.  "She never mentioned anything about us
touching."

"So?" Wesley said and resumed pulling up the shirt.

Jason seized Wesley's forearms.  "Cool it!"

Wesley inched back coyly.

Jason huffed as if catching his breath after falling down an elevator
shaft.  With the petulance of an athlete, Jason pulled off his shirt.

Wesley swiftly undid Jason's corduroys, dropped to his knees, and shucked
down Jason's pants and white briefs.

Jason shook from head to toe.

Wesley devoured Jason's drooping banana.

Jason neighed.

Like a pulley, Wesley's lips slid back and forth Jason's prick.  Wesley
snatched Jason's hands and threw them on top of his head.

Jason tightened his fingers on Wesley's sheaths of golden-yellow.

In Wesley's mouth, Jason's wiener felt like the pulp of a plum inside a
toaster oven set to warm.

Jason squinted his eyes in pain.  "Fuck!"

Wesley pulled his fuck hole away and licked around Jason's foreskin.

Jason yanked Wesley's hair rapids toward him.

Again, Wesley scarfed down Jason's dick.  Wesley tightened his lips around
it like a pair of hands trying to pin shut the innards of a turkey
overflowing with stuffing.

"Jesus Christ!" Jason said.  He began to thrust into Wesley's heart-shaped
face.

"Mmm-hmm," Wesley intoned.

Jason's eyelashes grew heavy.

Suddenly, Wesley pulled back.

Jason's eyelids flew open.  "What the hell?"

Wesley salivated at Jason's testicles like a foaming puppy.  The blond
swooped toward the chestnuts and sucked them.

"Fuckin' A!" Jason bellowed, throwing his head toward the dark kitchen
behind him.

Wesley moaned in a high, guttural hum.

Jason's testes vibrated like bells in Wesley's mouth.

Jason groaned like a pig in heat.

And Wesley fluttered his stuffed tongue across Jason's sack.

"Fucking wanker!" Jason snarled, clawing the bangs that streamed with gaps
over Wesley's forehead.

Once more, the kneeling horndog pulled away.

Jason rolled his head down.  What the fuck are you doing?

That which no girl has done to you, Wesley fluted with his pearl eyes of
liquid.

A drop of precum fell onto Wesley's upper lip.

"Lick it, sissy," Jason said.  "Because more of that will be oozing into
your mouth."

Wesley swiped his tongue over the droplet.

"Now, suck my dick," Jason growled.

Wesley took the lollypop into his mouth.

"That's it," Jason said.  He closed his eyes.

Wesley sucked with the sprightliness of a Dachshund.

How, Jason wondered, could a guy give better head than a girl?  Heck, Jason
felt his entire groin convulse to Wesley's mouth motions.  The experience
was like wanting to urinate on an empty bladder.  Never had Jason imagined
that gay foreplay would bring him to the edge of nirvana.  Part of him
swore revenge against Wesley for this.

A voice of reed cooed.

Jason opened his eyes and turned his head left.

To his astoundment, Claire was rubbing her bared slit.  She was facing up
like a mermaid sunbathing on the sands of the Caribbean.  Claire writhed
tinglingly, her arched back straddling the golden line between the brown
rug of the alcove and the oak-wood strips of the living room.

Jason ogled Claire breathily.  His body heated to the sizzle in his gonads.
At last, Jason awakened to the night breeze that was whiffling around his
quadriceps and cooling his skin.

Claire slipped her white ballerina shoes off via the heel of each foot.

Jason yawped the grunt of a soccer player--pushing whenever Wesley dove
into his dick and pulling back whenever Wesley retreated.

Claire shucked down her yellow skirt and white panties the rest of the way.

"Mama mia!" Jason said.  He pulled Wesley's hair with the power of an
airliner's engines upon takeoff.

Wesley's eyes pleaded for mercy against Jason's double-handgrip of his
hair.  So intense was the yearning in those orbs that Wesley literally
beseeched Jason to kiss him.

Jason looked upon Wesley the way a bully glazes at a floored wimp.  "You
want my straight sperm?"

Wesley bobbed his noggin.

"Then, suck like a faggot!" Jason said and pulled Wesley's hair toward him.

Wesley cuffed Jason's hamstrings, and a sonic boom reverberated throughout
the brightly lit room.

"What the fuck?" Jason said.

Wesley kneaded the slices of gingerbread and slithered his palms northward.

Brusquely, Jason arced his hands back.  "You're not touching my butt, queer
pouf!  You're only gonna suck my cock, like you and your hussy planned in
the car."

Wesley eyed him apologetically and allowed Jason to lower his hands in the
appropriate direction.

The top of Wesley's fingers dabbed Jason's palms with moisture.

Jason jerked his embrace away as if taking his hands off a hot stove.

Looking on into Jason, Wesley's deep-blue orbs exuded a gush of spiritual
pre-cum.

Jason rammed his dick harder into Wesley--in and out, up and down.  "You
like my straight cock, don't you?"

Wesley nodded achingly.

"Then, take it, Mary!"

Wesley slurped the prong louder.

"Fucking queer fag!" Jason hollered.  His eyes flitted toward the
bright-yellow walls.  "I can't believe I'm about to--" Shock rocked his
psyche as he realized that his cock was--indeed--capable of ejaculating
into another guy.

Wesley sucked harder, deeper, and faster, his mouth a washing machine on
final spin cycle.

"Oh, yeah!  Oh, yeah!" Jason heaved.  His heart flooded with guilt.

Wesley hummed in crescendo under his breath.

Jason shut his eyes tighter than a power ball in a fist, and he sprayed
two, four, eight, eleven times into the pansy's head.

Wesley kept swallowing; Jason's dick stopped spewing; and Wesley's throat
ruffled the cock for the last time.

At last, Jason dropped to his knees, arched left, and fell on his back.



* * * *



Jason lay on the golden border of the floor, staring at the milky-white
ceiling.

"Now, wasn't that a worthwhile experience?" Claire said.

"Unfucking believable," Jason panted.

"Are you ready for me?" she said.

"Give me a second," Jason heaved.

The vertical slats of the white blind clacked to a whiff of air.  The cool
breeze swept over Jason's skin like fall leaves wafting off the earth.  A
mild scent of pine, in turn, infiltrated Jason's nostrils with the
freshness of the spruces, firs, and cypresses outside the apartment.

Jason inhaled deeply, trying to regain his strength.

"Stick it to me," Claire whispered in a trio of tinkles.

Lazily, Jason rolled his head left.  "What!"

Wesley bumped toward the V between Claire's spread legs.  "You're not the
only guy in the world."  Wesley squatted before Claire like a mountain
overlooking a valley, and he untied his white basketball sneakers.

Something about the sound of Wesley's shoelaces made Jason quiver with
excitement and blush with envy.

As if starting to kowtow, Wesley lowered his knees to the rug, then pushed
off his sneakers via his underside.  Wesley shucked down his blue boxers
and white briefs, squeezed them over his knees, and stepped out of the
rumpled clothes.

Jason's nozzle rose to the Edenic beauty of Wesley's skin, which looked
about 30% thicker than the skin of girls.

Claire's bush jumped at Jason.

Jason goggled at the stunningly arousing work of art.  How could he have
missed the V that Claire had shaved above her cunt?  As for Wesley's huge
cock, how could Jason have assumed otherwise?

Wesley gloated at Claire's red-hot prepuce.  Swift as a golden eagle
swooping upon a rabbit, he placed his uncut pecker between her silky legs.

Jason propped left his rising torso like a seal.  "But you're gay!"

"For your information, I'm trisexual," Wesley said.  He pushed into her
cleft.

Dipping his forehead, Jason tipped his eyes at Wesley and arched his
eyebrows so as to say: Come again?

"Zone 3 of that graph behind you," Wesley said.

Jason twisted his neck further left.  Quickly, he studied the three
interlacing circles that floated left to right inside the large picture
frame.  Why, Jason wondered, did each circle have a different season
inside?  Why were the circles different sizes, with the "autumn" circle in
the middle the largest?  Was that image the bisexual symbol of the late
teens?

Wesley placed Claire's heels on his toned shoulders.  He inclined forward
his muscular body, sunk his woody deeper than the lowest oil rig, and
thrusted like a bonobo.

This is gayness gone too far! Jason howled in his mind.  A queer guy
fucking a girl just to prove he's like me?

Wesley kissed Claire's neck.  "You thought I couldn't fuck girls, eh?"

Jason's lips moved to unformed words.

"Well, I can!" Wesley said.

Claire purred.

"See?" Wesley continued, eyeing Jason.  "I can take her as much as you
can."  He pumped harder than a pestle in a mortar.

Claire humped back, and her moans got louder.  "Shoot your milk in me."

"You want my queer seed in you?" Wesley said.

"Uh-huh!  Uh-huh!" Claire chuffed.

"Then, take my wiener!"

"Oh, Wes ... Wes ... Wes!"  Claire's rapidly forming goose bumps indicated
an approaching orgasm.

"You have one hot pussy, you know that?" Wesley said.  Puppy-love passion
sprinkled the toughness in his voice.

"If only you knew ... how my cunt ... feels ... burning ... from the
inside," Claire gasped.  Her dreamy, half-shut orbs communicated something
amorphous.

Wesley slipped his hands down Claire's legs.  "Oh, yeah!  Oh, yeah!"  His
physique shook like a banana tree, and his expression said it all.

Jason felt everything with him: Wesley's body melting like an ice cube on a
hot tarmac, his balls frizzling a la shrimp marinara, and his cream of
coconuts squirting up his cock like water from a spray gun.

At last, Wesley collapsed onto Claire.



* * * *



The slats to the balcony rattled to a gust of wind.

A stronger version of pine scent walloped Jason's nostrils, and the brine
smell of Claire's skin pricked the cave walls of his nose.

Jason pushed his crumpled clothes down the river bend of his legs.  He
unzipped his black walking sneakers and tossed his corduroys, briefs, and
socks.

The articles flew like strands of hay.

Jason grabbed Wesley's arm, forced him back, and squeezed a knee over
Claire's leg.

Wesley bumped over Claire's other leg.  Imitating a frog, he croaked,
"Grabbit."

"Roger," Claire said.  She wrapped her thumb and forefinger around Jason's
dick.

Jason's blood turned into all of the world's rapids, and his body jerked
like a raft.

Jason wrapped a hand around Claire's fingers, then led them toward the
volcano beneath his member.

Jason's milk-crusted birdie sunk slowly into Claire's slit.

"Yeah!" Wesley said.  "Flood her insides."

Jason raised Claire's calves toward his shapely shoulders and pushed
harder.

The gluey vagina was enough to make any guy cum.  Yet, Jason couldn't stop
thinking that evolution didn't mean for things to be like this.  Simply
put, it was unnatural for a male to let another male cum in the female of a
species.  Still, this was what Jason had allowed Wesley to do--and what
Wesley was encouraging Jason to do.  Even more disturbing, Jason found
himself enjoying the feel of another dude's semen entering his piss slit.
Fired up like a drunken frat boy, Jason began the copulatory rhythm.

"Yes, tiger," Claire said in a sorority girl voice.

Jason lowered his gym-tightened chest.  "Homo over there sure knows how to
cum."

A surge of wind buffeted Jason's rumps like an open hand.

Was the cuff, Jason wondered, a sign that nature was on Wesley's side?
Possessing sand-colored nates, Jason couldn't be sure that Wesley wouldn't
spank him, as well--or worse.  Terrified and incited at the prospect, Jason
humped harder and faster into Claire.  He kneaded her left casaba and
licked the engorged nipple on the right.

"All right!"  Wesley cheered, lying like a ferret to Jason's right.  Wesley
reached for a gold-dusted cushion of red, pulled it off a yellow butterfly
chair, and slipped the pillow under Claire's head.

The red boosted Jason's excitement.  As a result, Jason pistoned more
urgently into Claire.

"Yes," Claire gasped, her eyes hooked into Jason's.  "Fuck me harder!"

Jason stared into Claire's orbs with the fury of a windstorm.  "You want my
cock?"

"I need it!" Claire screamed.

"You got it, Madonna."  With that, Jason grasped Claire's lean legs,
lowered them aside, and pushed like a linebacker.

"Uh-huh!  Uh-huh!" Claire panted.

"You like that?"

"God, yes!" she wailed.

"Then, take my wiener!"  Jason kept slamming into Claire's shorter, thinner
body.

Claire closed her eyes, wriggled her head on the pillow, and convulsed
uncontrollably.

"Fuck!" Jason squalled.  "I'm cumming!"

Jason's body shimmied like a jalopy swooshing at 60 miles an hour.  His
balls churned, sizzled, and vaporized, and his hot dog melted in the heat
of Claire's underworld.  At last, Jason collapsed onto her.







III



Jason stared at the grid platform's 3-D image of Claire's face.  He shook
his head in disappointment.  "I can't believe you allow a gay dude to fuck
you."

"Wesley's gay in the romantic sense," Claire corrected, "as in
homoromantic.  But in the purely sexual sense, he's trisexual."

"What is that anyway?" Jason said.

"Tri for Zone 3 of the graph that Wesley showed you," Claire said.  "Tri
also means that Wesley's willing to try sex with anyone he likes."

"Is that like bisexual or something?" Jason said.

"The gay side of the bi circle, yes," Claire lipped.

"But didn't you say that he loves you?"

"Of course!" she said.  "But in a more heteroplatonic kind of way."

"Yet, he fucks you."

"When he's turned on enough and none of his college buddies are around to
feed him their members," Claire said casually.  "Or when there's another
hunk to join on that hunk's ride with me."

Jason's diamond face grew puzzled.  "I don't get it."

"Most straight men don't," Claire said amusedly.  "Think of it this way.
Many straight guys fool around with other straight guys.  `It's nothing,'
they say, `just sex with my buddy.'  That's what the bisexual liberation
movement of the 2020s is all about--heteroromantic college buddies who are
proud and open bisexuals."

"You mean, those neo-hippie, wannabe-yuppie college men increasingly seen
on the news?" Jason said, excited and revolted at the idea.

"Exactly," Claire said.  "Already, they are 24% of the population."

"I've noticed how bis are wearing an earring on each ear," Jason said.

"One for each sex they find attractive," Claire said.  "Wesley only wears
one earring because he leans to the right.  But most bis are in the
middle."

Jason fixed his gaze upon the holographic phone's control panel.  Like his
thoughts, his eyes began to zigzag as he tried to sort the good from the
bad.

"I'm not sure that I approve of what you and Wesley are doing," Jason said,
"and I sure don't understand how a gay guy could enjoy sex with a girl.
I'll tell you what I do know, however.  Last week's fuck was the best lay
I've ever had."

"With me or Wesley?" Claire jested.

"I only fucked you."

"Right," she said.

"And I would do anything to have you again."

Claire's oval, tawny face lit up like a sunflower.  "Great," she said.
"Meet me at 7 o'clock.  My place."







IV



Claire led Jason into the brightly lit apartment.  "Tonight, you're gonna
have to do a little more," she said.

"Like what?" Jason answered.

Wesley emerged from behind the living room.

"Tonight, you have to fuck Wesley."

Jason puffed in disbelief, although part of him had seen this coming.  "Let
me guess," he said, looking at Wesley.  "You want me to squirt in you."

Wesley lowered his round chin coyly.

"Why the fuck do you insist on corrupting me?" Jason said.  "Can't you see
I like girls?"  His voice turned whiny.  "Why can't you stick to your kind
and let straight guys like me enjoy chicks like Claire?"  He shifted his
eyes left.  "Or are you the mastermind behind this, trying to satisfy some
twisted kick by seeing your gay beau fucked like a girl?"

"You'll like it," Claire lipped.

"--and I'll fucking catch his germs down there!" "Sometimes in life, one
has to take risks to enjoy certain things," she said.

Jason shook his head in denial.

"I wouldn't ask you to do something most men wouldn't enjoy," Claire
resumed.  "And my pussy isn't going anywhere.  You can always top off your
gay experience with a straight one, leaving your fragile, heteroromantic
identity intact."

Jason huffed.

"Besides, he's the one getting fucked," Claire said.  She turned to Wesley
and found the dark space beyond the living room instead.

Somehow, Wesley had managed to glide into the kitchen without making a
sound.  His left hand rested on the white entrance counter.  Wesley raised
his eyebrows at Claire and Jason in a mix of spiritual detachment and
childlike wonder.  The white fluorescent light, in turn, shone upon
Wesley's golden-blond hair as if part of his aura, and his peach-orange
physique took an almost mystical look.

Claire looked yearningly at Wesley.  Slowly, she approached him.  "It is at
times like these that I feel most proud to have you as my boyfriend."
Claire took Wesley's hand, and a tear welled in her eye.  "You're more
masculine than Jason will ever be.  Or any straight guy, for that matter."

"You want me to give him my ass?" Jason said.  He ripped off his green
Henley along its buttoned middle.  "Would that prove my manliness to you?"

Claire turned right.  "I wouldn't ask you to do that."

"I see," Jason said sarcastically.  "You're trying to desensitize
me--step-by-step.  Tonight, I fuck Wesley.  Tomorrow night, he fucks me!"

"That's not true," Claire said.  She wiped a tear.

Claire and Jason's panting filled the area around the kitchen.

Wesley's impartiality, however, seemed to ease tensions.

Claire and Jason's breathing evened out, and silence fell on the apartment
like the fog of a British Columbia inlet.

"I don't know what I'll do tomorrow," Jason said.

The words disrupted the quiet like a pebble a crystalline lake.

"But I do know that I want your pussy," Jason went on, "and I will do
anything to get it."  Hesitantly, he looked at the blond.

Wesley was sporting orange boxer shorts.  As usual, his mildly tanned legs
advertised his athleticism.  Wesley removed his yellow tank top, and his
chest continued the player leitmotif.

Jason twitched a leg muscle in Wesley's direction.

Wesley inched toward Jason.

Jason approached Wesley.

And Wesley brushed his fingers against Jason's ab muscles--tiny cotton
rolls stroking the skin of scallions.

The breathing of the fellows became as labored as the panting of boxers in
a ring--Jason's with jittery unease and Wesley's with horny excitement.
With the speed of spreading smoke, the smell of the young men overtook the
leftover aroma of pumpkin pie.

Quicker than a falling stack of supermarket cans, Wesley jerked down his
shorts and Jason's corduroys.  Then, he caressed Jason's beautifully shaped
pecs.

For some reason, Jason didn't protest Wesley's initiative in touching his
chest.  Maybe it was its wheat-colored contrast with Wesley's peach-orange
chest, the yin-yang--and hence, non-gay--difference made more evident by
the youngsters' hairlessness there.  Whatever the answer, Jason touched
Wesley's quadriceps in response.

The fairy's eyes of jello smiled brightly--his irises blue skies at noon.

Jason's heart thumped in a strange way.  Nonetheless, Jason kept feeling
Wesley's blond, semi-furry legs, trying to gauge their difference from girl
flesh.

"Almost like monkey grass, eh?" Wesley said.  He stepped out of his shorts.

Jason ankled out of his pants.  As if Wesley were his opponent at a
wrestling match, Jason picked him up, carried him to the bean sofa, and
dropped him on the satin.

"Hey, catcher!" Claire hollered.  She tossed a blue tube of something to
Wesley.

Wesley caught it.  "Ball 3."

Jason yanked Wesley's white briefs down, then over the top of his thrown-up
legs.

Wesley smeared a tad of silver lube onto his pink hole, which puckered over
the edge of the bean sofa.

Jason's white briefs bulged like one of the sofa's white fluffy clouds.
Perhaps it was the sight of Wesley lying in the sky like an angel that did
it for Jason.

Claire knelt below Wesley to Jason's left.  "Help me untie his sneakers,"
she said.

Something about the rawness of this caused Jason to abruptly push down his
briefs, step out of them, and drop to his knees.  Adrenaline kept rushing
through Jason's body like a swarm of fireflies.  At once, Jason wrested off
Wesley's white basketball sneakers and white socks of cotton.

Claire raised her thin, brown eyebrows in surprise.  She rose like a
helicopter and glided away.

But Jason wasn't through!  After catching his breath, he fell on his nates,
raised his legs, and held his black sneakers to Wesley's face.  The fruit's
duty was clear.

With the delight of a child, Wesley unzipped and pulled off Jason's
sneakers.  Wesley threw them right and left and peeled off the chap's black
socks of cotton.  Wesley then held up his legs higher than before.

Wesley's behavior shocked the bejesus out of Jason.  How, he wondered,
could a guy feel no shame about throwing up his legs like that?

Jason knelt between the appendages of beef and scowled at the awkwardness
of his position.

Tepid as soup, Wesley's supple calves landed on Jason's shoulders.

Jason inserted his oozing dangle of seven inches.

Wesley's chute was warm as the innards of an antelope.  It resisted Jason's
wiener with the strength of a baseball glove squeezing to an intruding
hand.

"Bro," Jason breathed.  "You sure are tight."

Wesley's eyes shot lust at him.  "Start pumping, and you'll see how loose I
can get."

"Fine, Mary!"  Weird as it felt, Jason started humping the ass.

"Yeah," Wesley whiffled.

Jason sped his thrusts.

Wesley shook his stuffed corkscrew.

"You sure get a kick out of this, don't you?" Jason said.

"Since I was 13," Wesley heaved.

"Then, take my sausage!"

Wesley wailed as though Jason had punched him in the stomach.

"That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

Wesley grunted.

"Then, take my cream!"

Tri lad squalled an ah.  He twisted a nipple and strained his neck back.

The fork of blue-green veins on Wesley's neck aroused Jason.  Maybe it was
because the veins accentuated the fact that Jason was fucking a guy.  Not
knowing why, Jason lowered his chest.

Wesley raised his lips and drew out one of Jason's teats like a suction
cup.

"Fuckin' A!" Jason said, throwing his head back.

Wesley's titillation of Jason's nipple filled Jason with fright and
excitement, as no chick had ever stimulated his body with such calculation,
crudeness, and directness.  To Jason's shock, Wesley, a pansy, was
controlling him with the skill of a ventriloquist.  Worse, each gay move of
Wesley's pulled areas of Jason's soul that he didn't even know existed.
Jason's social conditioning told him to pound the faggot and get the hell
out of there.  The vulgar pressure around Jason's cock and the tongue
sensations around his teat told Jason to stay plugged to Wesley.

The bean sofa shook violently.

"Man!" Jason gobbled.

Wesley's seed sack slid back and forth.  "Whoo-hoo!"

Maybe it was desire for revenge.  Or perhaps, Jason was allowing himself
free rein in this sunlit meadow of queer sexuality.  Whatever the
explanation, Jason reached for Wesley's cock and squeezed the erect piece
of pizza dough.

Wesley wailed.

"You better not complain," Jason said, sputtering droplets onto Wesley's
peach-orange cheeks.  "Or else, you may truly get it."

Wesley pinched his eyelids shut.  "Stop!"

Jason kept squeezing Wesley's dick and battering his prostate.  "That's
what you get for stealing me away from Claire."

Wesley opened his saucers.  They yelled, I can't take any more massaging
down there!  Yet, Wesley's face begged for another round of cock squeezing
and prostate ramming.  Like a good, little boy, Wesley fluted, "I promise
I'll behave."

"I don't wanna hear another word from you," Jason grated with the
distorted, low tone of a mangled audio disk.

"Or else?" Wesley challenged.

"Or else, I'll give you this," Jason said, driving his frank to the hilt on
this.

"Ouch!" Wesley blubbered.  His calves slipped off Jason's shoulders.

Jason slithered his arms around Wesley's thighs.  "Oooh, yeah."

Wesley's soles of light-pink pointed at Jason's face like floodlight
reflectors.  The soles danced to Jason's bucking of his hips.  Then, the
unspeakable happened.  Wesley grinned mischievously; his incisors showed
with the whiteness of china; and he said, "I dare you to kiss my tootsies."

Jason scoped the scrumptious-looking soles.  His heart stirred in a weird
way.  To his astonishment, Jason discovered that he actually wanted to try
this.  But as straight hunk, he couldn't just give in to a fairy's perverse
demand.  Jason had to make Wesley pay for this "service."

Jason grinded his hips to a halt.  "You're one twisted fox."

Fright gripped Wesley's face, as the blond apparently wondered whether he
had pushed the envelope too far.

A wicked smile slowly materialized on Jason's face.  "Tell you what," he
said.  "I give you the spanking that you deserve, and if you live through
that, your feet are mine."

"Right on," Wesley said.

Jason swung to his feet with the dexterity of a leopard.

Wesley flipped to his stomach, dropped his knees to the floor, and keeled
over the sofa.

Jason knelt behind Wesley, pressed his thing past the pink butt cheeks, and
smacked the sophomore.

"Yeah," Wesley coaxed, humping back.  "Give me discipline."

"You better pray I do," Jason said.  "Because I haven't even started."
Slap!  Slap!  Slap!

"God!" Claire screamed.  Her left foot rested on the end table, and she was
rubbing over her red panties of silk.  "This is so hot!"

Whack on the right rump!  Whack on the left rump!

"Ouch!" Wesley wailed, clawing a cloud.

Slap!

"Stop!"

"You better quit whining," Jason grizzled.  "Or else, I'll give you this."

Wesley yawped and turned back.

"That's what you get for corrupting me."

"I learned my lesson!" Wesley said.

"Shut up, rug rat!"  Slap on the right!  Slap on the left!

"Please," Wesley said with a pout.

Jason pushed harder and deeper into Wesley--and practically felt Wesley's
hard-on rubbing against the sofa.

"I promise I'll be good!"

"But you'll never be 100% straight," Jason said.  "Not even close.  For
that alone, your buns deserve to be spanked till they turn to tomatoes."
Slap!  Slap!  Slap!

"Urgh!" Wesley whooped.  His face contorted as much as his nates were red.
"But I fuck girls sometimes.  Don't I get a break for that?"

"Not good enough," Jason snarled.  He pistoned as hard as his heart
hammered inside him.  "You gotta stop seducing guys, for starters.  Then,
you gotta learn to guard your butt, something the vast majority of men do
out of self-respect."

Wesley spoke with high-pitched innocence.  "What happens if I don't guard
my heinie?"

"You get had," Jason gruffed.  He massaged Wesley's rumps.  "Is getting
stuffed what you like?"

"Yes!" Wesley said defiantly.

"So you like this kinky stuff," Jason said.

"Uh-huh!  Uh-huh!"

"Then, take it like a man!"  Slap!  Slap!

Not in a thousand years would a girl allow a guy to rough her up like this.
At least, that is what Jason thought.  Now, by contrast, Jason found
himself free to be as brusque as he wanted with Wesley.  In the midst of
such liberty, Jason hankered for the freedom to do everything that his
girlfriends had never permitted in bed.  Panic struck Jason as he felt the
boundlessness of his sexual cravings--and worse, as he realized that only
through another pig like him would he ever come to satisfy his animal
hungers.  Gay sex had thus become a blessing ... and a curse.

Jason pulled his dick out, spun and threw Wesley onto the sofa, and yanked
Wesley's calves toward his shoulders.

"Alright!" Wesley said.  "Mr. Toughguy's really getting into gay sex."  He
palm-scrubbed the waves of muscle that rippled across the lake of his abs.

The corn smell of Wesley's skin had turned stronger and saltier, and his
sculpted chest oozed the sweat of a gym warm-up.

Jason pried open Wesley faster than a knight stabbing his opponent off a
horse.

"Yeah!" Wesley said.  "Fuck my ass!"

Soft and supple, Wesley's soles looked too yummy for Wesley's good.

Jason bit Wesley's toes as if they were chicken strips fresh out of a
rotisserie.

Wesley belched the howl of a hog.

Jason slipped his lips off the digits, brought his nose to a hard landing
on the sole, and licked it.

Wesley's whoop vibrated up his leg and zapped Jason's tongue like an
electric current.

Jason licked harder.

Wesley jolted Jason with each shake of his weenie.  "Whoopee!"

Never had Jason imagined that a dude's feet could be such a turn-on.  Now,
their meaty taste edged Jason's hunger for crusty chicken.

Jason sniffed the flesh.

Its mushy smell was blended with leftover laundry detergent.  The odor
certainly was cleaner than Jason had imagined--still a little vulgar and
sporty but nothing like guys' feet were supposed to smell.

Prompted by this discovery, Jason rubbed his nose against the flesh as if
the sole were a girl's cheek.  This was so naughty!  Jittery like a
squirrel, Jason swooped toward the other sole, sniffed it, and kissed it.

"Warmer than the scruff of a cat, eh?" Wesley said, breathing hard.

The more Jason worshipped Wesley's feet, the more their hue, smell, taste,
and texture intoxicated him.  Hard as Jason tried, he simply couldn't stop!

Wesley thrashed his head on the bean sofa.  "Oh, tiger!  I've never been so
horny in my entire ... life!"

Jason pulled up like a biplane that had been hit by enemy fire, then fell
onto the bosky territory of Wesley's shins and calves.  Stranded again,
Jason snuffled the flesh, kissed it, and kneaded Wesley's quadriceps the
way a guy touches a girl.

Wesley squirmed like a ferret trying to squeeze through some hole.  Goose
bumps popped up over his skin.  Wesley's eyelids fluttered half-shut.
Still, his erect cock didn't spout anything.

Jason couldn't believe his eyes, as only chicks came in that manner.

Wesley continued to quiver orgasmically.

Apparently, males were capable of climaxing in multiple ways.  The fact
that a queer dude was showing Jason this petrified the straight collegian
like few things had up to that point.  Jason's panic was akin to his
freshman-year discovery that he had $27 left in the bank.  This time,
however, the terror passed him quicker than a blast of arctic wind a spruce
pine.

Jason straightened his body into an L.

"Yeah!" Wesley growled, ready for another lap around the racetrack.  "Feed
your dick into me."  He squeezed and released his crab apples in rapid
succession.

"You truly are something else," Jason said with disgust.  Inside, however,
he found himself reveling at Wesley's primate motions.  How Jason wished
that his straight buddies had taught him this method of masturbation in
high school.  In knee-jerk reaction, Jason sawed harder into Wesley.

"Whoo-hoo!" Wesley said.  "You hit the spot!"

What would Wesley and Jason's parents say if they caught the twinks--not to
mention, Claire--in the middle of what they were doing?  What would the
youths answer regarding the constructiveness of their act that night?  How
would Wesley and Jason, in particular, explain their enjoyment at engaging
in dirty sex?

You're our country's future, Jason's mother said in his head.  Her frail
voice echoed, Enemies walk in our midst.

Jason's balls approached blastoff.

You must be ever vigilant against them.

Jason turned his head left.  "His butt sure is hotter than your cunt," he
hollered, trying to forget the echoes in his mind.  "Holy cow!  You're
wetter than a pussycat."

Claire kept rubbing herself furiously.

Jason's nuts slapped Wesley hard.

"Fuck me harder," Wesley heaved.

"Like this?" Jason said ... and plunged like the landing gear of a jet
touching down upon a runway.

"Harder!" Wesley grunted.

"How about now?"

"Better," Wesley said.  He was rubbing his walnuts faster than water
whirling down a toilet.

"Fuck!" Jason yawped.  "I can't believe I'm about to--"

The semen shot up Jason's cock like an injection.  A second squirt rocked
his groin, then another ... and another ... and another.

Jason howled and twisted his back into a C.

Wesley tensed and relaxed his ass--over and over.

Not only did this squeeze more seed out of Jason.  The sight of Wesley
spraying milk right and left added a visceral intensity to Jason's physical
tension.  Thank God that science has eradicated the major STDs! Jason
rumbled in his subconscious ... and came again ... and again ... and again.

Watching him tipsily, Wesley spouted in never-ending rounds of meltdown.

At last, Jason collapsed on Wesley.



* * * *



The smell of lecithin wafted through the mildly sticky air.  Claire
reclined on Jason's back and blocked some of the night breeze that was
blowing past the sliding glass door.

Jason, however, continued to rest on Wesley.  The now bi-curious guy basked
in the male-male intimacy that more straight men of his generation were
opening themselves to under the slogan: Bisexual Liberation.  The peace
that emanated from Wesley and Jason surpassed words.  Hopefully, Jason
concluded, society would soon reach the point when all guys could attain
this level of contentment, free from guilt and inhibitions.