Date: Sat, 19 Nov 2005 18:34:22 -0500
From: S
Subject: Straight Guy 1

	Hypnotic beats blared throughout the flashing surroundings.

"You can come to my apartment," Darcy 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?  "Are you serious?"
he said, suffusing his cheek dimples as he smiled.

	"Yeah," Darcy assured.  She turned to his left, took her
swan-delicate goblet from the bar counter, and sipped from the dewy glass.

	Eyeing the girl with the yen of a lonely sailor, Jason ahed like a
camel begging for a cold, refreshing drink under the noontime sun of the
Sahara.

Darcy set down her half-empty goblet of dark-red wine and turned to him.
"I am all yours."  She grinned girlishly.  "There is, however, one catch."

"Anything," Jason said breathlessly.

Darcy ran her ballerina fingers through the guy's short, wheat-brown hair,
which fountained back from the top of his diamond-shaped face.  "I'll tell
you in my car."

"You're driving?"

"You got a problem with that?" she said, taking his hand.

"Nuh-uh," he muttered, nearly spilling his beer as she jested him away from
the counter.

Never had the yellow coupe with the black top glistened as intensely as
that night--not even on that sunny afternoon when Jason followed Darcy 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 Darcy crossed to the driver's side.

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

The doors hemmed down, and an ear-ringing silence permeated the inside of
the airtight vehicle.  If the pub had reeked of beer and sweat, the inside
of the coupe emanated a "new car" scent of leather, sprayed carpets, and
fresh plastic.

The olfactory flavors brought Jason the image of a triangular, yellow tent
of crumpled plastic.  That tent his father had given him for his thirteenth
birthday.  Excited by the promise of a different kind of present, Jason
stared deeply into the chick's orbs.

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

Maybe it was her childlike innocence that drove Jason bonkers--or the fact
that Darcy didn't look slutty like so many girls on campus.  Let's fuck
right here! Jason crackled with his eyes.

Darcy led a hand of his toward a tit.

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

Darcy sucked back thirstily!

Jason closed his eyes, trying to focus on the salty-sweet taste of her
lips.

The strawberry-like aroma of Darcy's hair, however, tickled Jason's
nostrils like a mouthful of fizzing soda.  Moreover, the cavalcade of
fruity molecules blended with the breath-moisty, cornstalk scent of Darcy's
face.  The intoxicating particles flitted down Jason's throat and pricked
the skin of his stomach.

Jason lost his concentration to a churning belly.  Famished like a
nut-cracking squirrel, he sucked the chick's lips harder, groped her
squishy casabas, and bent his knees toward her bared navel.

Darcy raised the beige curtain of the guy's abdominal stage to the audience
of her fingers.  Like the feathers of a parrot, the prickly fabric of
Jason's henley tickled the skin around his abs.

Tensing his closed eyelids, Jason hummed with the urgency of a
wanting-to-pee adolescent.

Like steamed bars of soap, Darcy's palms caressed his tight abs.

Jason exhaled long and hard, breathing air into her mouth.

Suddenly, the girl pulled back!  "There's someone I want you to meet,"
Darcy said, then glanced toward the rumble seat behind them.

"Whoa!" Jason said, flashing his opening eyes back.

"This is Wesley," she continued, eye-fingering the shorthaired blond in
shiny, blue boxers.

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

As the blond nodded eagerly, his glittering eyes radiated an angelic
beauty.

"Nice to meet you," Jason said charily.  Frowning suspiciously, he unpasted
his hands from Darcy's strap blouse.

"I'm glad you finally met," Wesley said with the purity of a boy.
"... outside the classroom."

"Jason and I got really acquainted at that bar," Darcy said, nose-pointing
toward the display windows that lined the neon-lit sidewalk on the 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?" he
said, shattering the quiet like a crashing brick.

"What would make you say that?" Darcy intoned, waxing innocent.

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

"Calm down," she said, gently took his hand, and placed it on the border
between her flower-printed mini-skirt and her mildly tanned leg.  "You will
get to fuck me.  But I love Wesley, and whatever he yearns for, I take into
consideration."

"What are you saying?" Jason railed, moving his model's hand away from her
leg.

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

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

Darcy shook her head seriously.

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

"Wesley's the one who'll be on his knees!"

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

"Because dudes are awesome," Wesley squibbed, the potpourri of outside
lights rendering his eyes with a silver glow in the dark.

Scowling in befuddlement, Jason glanced over the blond's firm,
pink-under-moonlight legs.  "You queer guys are really twisted," he said
peevishly.

"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?" Darcy said excitedly.

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

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

Why 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 truly 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, settling back on his seat.  "Let's drive to your
apartment."

"Fine!" Darcy said and placed her palm on the ignition scanner.

"But don't try to pull any funny stuff!" Jason brayed, jolting out of his
seat like jack-in-the-box and pointing wrathfully at the blond.







II



The young men stood side by side, with 5' 8", 170-pound Jason and about 5'
10", 180-pound Wesley eyeing Darcy.

A wily grin tiptoed across the girl's face, and she teasingly unbuttoned
her embroidered blouse of white, starting at the bottom.

Like at the bar, Jason ahed with a scorched-dry throat.  Wesley mmmed as if
Darcy were a lump of melting chocolate fresh out of the oven.

Ripping the last two buttons, Darcy bared her brassier of pearl-white.

The sight of butterflies on silk pleased and calmed Jason, as did the
mildly flowery aroma of the living room.  Nodding as though to a catchy
tune, he smiled genially.  "Take `em off."

Rotating aside like an ice skater in slow motion, Darcy twisted her fingers
around the back of her brassier.  "Ooohh!" she crooned in high pitch,
turning back front.

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

"Nuh-uh!" Darcy said, restraining Jason's hand.  "First, you have to lend
him your cock."

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

"Don't you like variety?" Darcy said, plunking on the blue-white bean sofa
that rested to the guys' left.

"Yeah, but--" His brown pants still on him, Jason reluctantly turned toward
the fairy on the right.  "How long must I--"

"Until you cum," Darcy said glibly.

"How am I supposed to fuck you after?" Jason erupted, flogging his eyes
toward her.

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

"Yeah, but--"

"Then, what's your problem?" she interrupted.

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

"Pleasure from watching Wesley in ecstasy."

Jason frowned in confusion.

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

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

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

"Cool it, man!" Jason boomed, grabbing the blond's forearms.

Wesley inched back coyly.

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

The blond swiftly undid Jason's corduroys, dropped to his knees, and
shucked down the guy's pants and white briefs.

"Nahhh!" Jason neighed as Wesley swallowed his drooping banana.  "Yeow!"

His lips moving back and forth, Wesley snatched Jason's hands and threw
them on top of his head.

Jason tightened his fingers on the wheat shafts of golden-yellow and camel.

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

"Fuck!" Jason gobbled, squinting his eyes in pain.

Wesley slapped the sophomore's hamstrings, sending a sonic boom throughout
the brightly lit room.  The blond kneaded the smooth slices of gingerbread,
pulled his fuck hole away, and quickly licked around the foreskin.

"Aaahh!" Jason groaned, then yanked Wesley's forward flowing rapids of hair
toward him.

Wesley scarfed down the pecker, then 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 bawled.  His eyelashes hanging sleepily, he began to
thrust into the blond's heart-topped/diamond-bottomed face.

Suddenly, Wesley pulled back.

"What the hell?" Jason said, shaking open his eyelids.

Eyeing the guy's testicles, the blond salivated like a foaming dog.
Abruptly, he swooped toward the nuts, took them into his mouth, and sucked
the balls.

 "Fuckin' A!" Jason heaved, throwing his head toward the dark kitchen in
back of him.

Wesley moaned in a high, guttural hum, causing the testes to vibrate like
bells in his mouth.

Jason groaned like a pig in heat.

Wesley fluttered his stuffed tongue to and fro across the sack.

"Fucking queer!" Jason snarled, clawing the straight hair bangs that gapped
over Wesley's forehead.

Again, the kneeling horndog pulled away.

What the fuck are you doing? Jason spat, rolling his quaking head down.

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

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

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

Like an obedient boy, Wesley swiped his tongue over the droplet.

"Now, suck my dick," Jason growled.

The blond took the lollypop into his mouth.

"That's it," Jason said, shutting his eyes.

Wesley sucked with the sprightliness of a Dachshund.

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

"Mmmm," a thin, reedy voice cooed from the left.

Turning to the sound, Jason opened his eyes.

To his shock, Darcy was rubbing her bare slit below him, facing up like a
mermaid sunbathing on the sands of the Caribbean.  She 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 her breathily.  As his body heated to the sizzle in his gonads,
he awakened to the night breeze that was whiffling around his quadriceps
and cooling his moist, suave skin.

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

Jason yawped the long grunt of a roused football player, pushing whenever
Wesley dove into the dick and pulling back whenever Wesley retreated.

Darcy shucked off her yellow skirt and white panties the rest of the way.

"Mama mia!" Jason howled, pulling Wesley's hair with the power of an
airliner's engines upon takeoff.  He swung his eyes right and looked down
at the blond like a bully glazing at a floored wimp.

Pleading for mercy against Jason's double handgrip of his hair, Wesley
stared yearningly into the home wrecker's eyes--almost beseeching the guy to
kiss him.

"You want my straight sperm?" Jason said.

The blond bobbed his head.

"Then, suck like a faggot!" Jason snarled, vengefully pulling Wesley's
hair.

The cockhound loosened his grip on Jason's hamstrings and slithered his
palms northward.

"Nuh-uh!" Jason said, brusquely arcing his hands back.  "You're not
touching my butt, queer fairy!  You're only gonna suck my cock, like you
and your hussy planned in the car."

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

Electrified by the sweaty moisture of Wesley's forearms, Jason jerked his
embrace away from them, as if taking his hands off a hot stove.  Quickly,
he re-laid his hands on the horndog's head.

Wesley's deep-blue orbs exuded a gush of spiritual pre-cum.

Jason kept ramming his dick into the fairy--in and out, up and down.  "You
like my straight cock, don't you?"

Wesley nodded achingly.

"Then, take it, Mary!"

Wesley sucked harder.

"Fucking queer fairy!" Jason hollered, flitting his eyes 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 flooding with guilt.

"Mmm ... mmmm ... mmmmmm!" Wesley hummed in crescendo under his breath.

Shutting his eyes tighter than a power ball in a fist, Jason sprayed two,
four, eight, eleven times into the faggot's head.

Wesley kept swallowing; the dick stopped; 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.



* * * *



"Now, wasn't that a worthwhile experience?" Darcy half-whispered.

"Unfucking believable," Jason said, panting on the golden border of the
floor.

"Are you ready for me?" she said as seductively as at the bar.

"Give me a second," he heaved, staring up at the milky-white ceiling.

The vertical slats of the white blind clacked lightly to a whiff of air.
The cool breeze swept over Jason's sleek, tawny skin like autumn leaves
wafting off the ground, and a mildly piny scent 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," Darcy whispered in a trio of tinkles.

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

"You're not the only guy in the world," Wesley said, bumping toward the
area between Darcy's spread legs.  Squatting before her like a mountain
overlooking a valley, 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.  He 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 peach-orange skin,
which looked about 30% thicker than a girl's skin.

Suddenly, Darcy's bush jumped at Jason.

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

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

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

"For your information, I'm trisexual," Wesley said, pushing into her
cleave.

Dipping his forehead, Jason tipped his eyes at him 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 and quickly studied the three
interlacing circles that floated from left to right inside the large
picture frame.  Why, he 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 Darcy's heels on his clearly toned shoulders, inclined
forward his muscular body, and sunk his woody deeper than the lowest oil
rig.  Thrusting like a bonobo, he sucked the girl's lips as if devouring a
strawberry.

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 dragged his moist, pink tongue down the girl's chin and neck.  "You
thought I couldn't fuck girls, eh?" he said, turning his head.

Jason's lips moved to unformed words.

"Well, I can!"

"Uuh," Darcy purred.

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

"Aaahh!" she puffed, humping back brusquely.  "Shoot your cream in me."

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

"Uh-huh!  Uh-huh!" Darcy spurred, her moans getting louder.

"Then, take my wiener!"

"Oh, Wes ... Wes ... Wes!"  Her rapidly forming goose bumps indicated an
approaching climax.

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

"If only you knew ... how my cunt ... feels ... burning ... from the
inside," she gasped, her dreamy, half-shut orbs communicating something
amorphous.

"Oh, yeah!  Oh, yeah!" Wesley heaved, slipping his hands down her legs.
"Fuck!"  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 from his cock like water from a spray gun.

At last, Wesley collapsed on Darcy.



* * * *



The slats to the balcony rattled to a gust of wind; a stronger version of
pine scent walloped Jason's nostrils; and the fruity, semi-salty aroma of
Darcy's skin pricked the caverns of Jason's nose.

Quickly, Jason pushed his crumpled clothes down the river bend of his legs,
unzipped his black walking sneakers, and tossed the items piece by piece.
As the last articles flew like strands of hay, Jason grabbed Wesley's arm,
forced it back, and squeezed a knee over Darcy's left leg.

Wesley bumped over her other leg.  "Grabbit," he said, imitating a frog.

"Oh, I will," Darcy said, then wrapped her thumb and index finger around
Jason's dick.

Jason's blood turned into all of the world's rapids.  His body jerking back
and forth like a raft, Jason wrapped a hand around Darcy's fingers and
guided them toward the volcano beneath his member.

The milk-crusted head of his cock sunk slowly into her slit.

"Yeah!" Wesley said, looking from the sidelines like a spectator at a
baseball game.  "Flood her insides."

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

The creamy squishiness of Darcy's innards rocked Jason's soul.  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 into
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 guy's semen entering his
piss slit.  Fired up like a drunken fraternity boy, Jason began the
copulatory rhythm.

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

"Buttercup," Jason muttered, progressively lowering his gym-tightened
chest.  "Homo over there sure knows how to cum."

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

Was nature on Wesley's side? Jason wondered.  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 Darcy.  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.  He
reached for a gold-dusted, red cushion, pulled it off a yellow butterfly
chair nearby, and slipped the pillow under Darcy's head.

His excitement boosted by the red, Jason pistoned more urgently into her.

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

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

"I need it!" she screamed.

"You got it, Madonna."  With that, Jason grabbed her lean legs, lowered
them aside, and pushed like a linebacker.

"Uh-huh!  Uh-huh!" Darcy panted.

"You like that?"

"God, yes!" she wailed, squeezing her eyes shut and banging her head
against the pillow.

"Then, take my wiener!"  He kept slamming into her shorter, thinner body.

Darcy began to convulse uncontrollably.

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

His 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 her
underworld.  At last, he collapsed on her.





III



Jason stared at the grid platform's three-dimensional image of her face.
"I can't believe you allow a gay guy to fuck you," he said, shaking his
head in disappointment.

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

"What is that anyway?" Jason said with petulance.

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

"Is that like bisexual or something?"

"The gay side of the bi circle, yes," Darcy said.

"But didn't you say that he loves you?" Jason said, his diamond face
puzzled.

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

"Yet, he fucks you," he said.

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

Again, Jason shook his head.  "I don't get it."

"Most straight men don't," Darcy 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 guys increasingly on
the news?" Jason said, excited and revolted at the idea.

"Exactly."

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," he
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 session was
the best lay I've ever had."

"With me or Wesley?" Darcy jested.

"I only fucked you."

"Right," she said.

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

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







IV



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

"Like what?"

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 straight at Wesley.  "You want me to squirt in
you."

The blond coyly lowered his round chin.

"Why the fuck do you insist on corrupting me?  Can't you see I like girls?"
Jason's agitated voice turned whiny.  "Why can't you stick to your kind and
let straight guys like me enjoy chicks like Darcy?"  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," Darcy rippled.

"--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 guys wouldn't enjoy," Darcy
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."  She exhaled.  "Besides, he's the one getting fucked."
Turning to Wesley, she found the dark space beyond the living room instead.

Somehow, Wesley had managed to glide into the kitchen without making a
sound.  Leaning his left hand slightly on the white counter by the
entrance, he raised his eyebrows at them in a mix of spiritual detachment
and childlike wonder.  With the fluorescent light shining above and behind
him as though part of his aura, his peach-orange physique took an almost
mystical look.

Darcy looked yearningly at Wesley.  "It is at times like these that I feel
most proud to have you as my boyfriend," she said, approaching him.  She
took his 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, ripping off his green henley
along its buttoned middle.  "Would that prove my manliness to you?"

Turning right, Darcy squinted annoyingly at Jason.  "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," she said, wiping a tear.

Darcy and Jason's panting filled the kitchen end of the apartment.
Somehow, however, Wesley's impartiality seemed to ease tensions.  Silence
fell like the fog of a British Columbia inlet, and Darcy and Jason's
breathing evened out.

"I don't know what I'll do tomorrow," Jason said, disrupting the quiet like
a pebble a crystalline lake.  "But I do know that I want your pussy ... and
I will do anything to get it."  Hesitantly, he looked at the blond.

Wesley was sporting orange boxer shorts, and as usual, his mildly tanned
legs advertised his athleticism.  As he removed his yellow tank top, 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 abdominal muscles, tiny
cotton balls stroking the skin of scallions.

The guys' breathing 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 young men overtook the leftover
scent of pumpkin pie.

Quicker than a falling stack of supermarket cans, Wesley shucked down his
shorts and the guy's corduroys, then 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 yang-yin, non-gay difference made more evident by the guys'
hairlessness there.  Whatever the answer, Jason touched Wesley's quadriceps
in response.

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

As his heart thumped in a strange way, Jason kept feeling the blond,
semi-furry legs, trying to gauge their difference from girl flesh.

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

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

"Hey, catcher!" Darcy hollered, then tossed a blue tube of something to
Wesley.

"Ball 3," Wesley said, catching like a baseball player.

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

His rear end exposed via the edge of the sofa, Wesley smeared the lubricant
onto his puckered, pink hole.

Jason's white briefs bulged like one of the bean sofa's white, fluffy
clouds set against the blue-sky fabric.  Perhaps it was the sight of Wesley
lying in the sky like an angel that did it for Jason.

"Help me untie his sneakers," Darcy said, kneeling below Wesley to Jason's
left.

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

Raising her thin, brown eyebrows in surprise, Darcy 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 4-year-old, Wesley unzipped and pulled off the guy's
sneakers, threw them right and left, and peeled off the chap's black,
cotton socks.  He 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?  Kneeling
between the moist, semi-hairy appendages of beef, Jason scowled at the
awkwardness of his position vis-a-vis Wesley.  Slowly, Jason inserted his
oozing dangle of almost seven inches.

Warm as the insides of an antelope, the rectum resisted Jason's wiener with
the strength of a baseball glove squeezing to an intruding set of hands.

"Man," Jason breathed, feeling the tepid, supple calves on his shoulders.
"You sure are tight."

"Start pumping, and you'll see how loose I can get," Wesley said, his
boyish eyes shooting lust at him.

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

"Yeah," Wesley whiffled.

Jason sped his thrusts.

The blond pressed the base of 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?"

"Yeah," Wesley grunted, pinching a nipple and shaking his weenie.

"Then, take my milk!"

"Aahhh!" tri boy squalled, straining his neck back.

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

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

"Fucking A!" Jason said, throwing his head back.

Never had a girl pulled Jason's strings like that--not even Darcy, whose
sensuality had been indirect.  By contrast, Wesley's titillation of Jason's
teats filled the breeder with fright and excitement, as no chick had ever
stimulated his body with such calculation, crudeness, and directness.  To
Jason's shock, Wesley, the queer, 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 his cock and the sprightly sensations around his nipples told him to
stay plugged to the fairy.

"Man!" Jason gobbled, the bean sofa ruffling violently under them.

"Whoo-hoo!" Wesley cheered, his seed sack sliding back and forth.

Maybe it was desire for revenge.  Or perhaps, Jason was allowing himself
free rein in this sunlit meadow of queer sexuality.  Whatever the
explanation, he reached under Wesley's testicles and squeezed them as if
they were pizza dough.

"Mother Mary!" Wesley screamed, his skin bubblier than the flesh of a boar.

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

"Stop!" Wesley wailed, squeezing his eyes shut.

But Jason kept kneading the 20-year-old's nuts and battering his prostate.
"That's what you get for stealing me from Darcy."

Opening his saucers, Wesley yawped, I can't take any more massaging down
there!  Yet, his face begged for another round of ball squeezing and
prostate ramming.  "I promise I'll behave," he fluted like a good, little
boy.

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

"Or else?" Wesley said with a puppy-face air of innocence.

"Or else, I'll give you this."

"Ouch!"  His calves slipped off the guy's shoulders.

"Oooh, yeah," Jason said, slithering his arms around Wesley's legs, which
now hung off the sides of Jason's upper arms.

Wesley's soles of cream-pink pointed at Jason's face like camera-light
reflectors, shaking back and forth to Jason's bucking of his hips.  Then,
the unspeakable happened.  Grinning mischievously, Wesley said, "I dare you
to kiss my feet."

Scoping the scrumptious-looking soles, Jason felt his heart stir in a weird
way.  To his astonishment, he discovered that he actually wanted to try
this.  But as straight hunk, he couldn't just give in to a queer guy's
perverse demand.  He had to make Wesley pay for this "service."  "You're
one twisted fox," Jason spat, grinding his hips to a halt.

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.

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

Kneeling behind Wesley, Jason pressed his thing past the orange-pink butt
cheeks.  Slap!

"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!" Darcy screamed, rubbing herself over her red, silk panties as she
stood to their left with a foot on the end table.  "This is so hot!"

Slap on the right rump!  Slap 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."

"Aaahh!" Wesley yawped, turning his head back.

"That's what you get for trying to corrupt me."

"I learned my lesson!" Wesley protested, his contorted face as red as his
nates.

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

"Please," Wesley implored.

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

"I promise I'll be good!"

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

"Urgh!" Wesley whooped.  "But I fuck girls sometimes.  Don't I get a break
for that?"

"Not good enough," Jason snarled, pistoning 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 guys do out of
self-respect."

"What happens if I don't guard my heinie?" Wesley said with the
high-pitched innocence of a boy.

"You get had," Jason grated, then briefly massaged Wesley's rumps.  "Is
getting stuffed what you like?"

"Yes!" Wesley barked 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 allowed in bed.  Panic struck him 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
the blond's heels toward his shoulders.

"Alright," Wesley grunted, palm-scrubbing the waves of muscle that rippled
across the lake of his abs.  "Mr. Toughguy's really getting into this."

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

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

"That's it," Wesley said.  "Fuck my ass!"

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

Wesley belched the howl of a baby wolf.

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

Wesley's whoop sent a powerful vibration up his leg, zapping Jason's tongue
like a bolt of electricity.

Electrified from head to toe, Jason licked harder.

"Whoopee!" Wesley heaved, jolting Jason with each shake of his weenie.

Never in his life had Jason imagined that a guy's feet could be such a
turn-on, and the soft, supple look of Wesley's soles made them seem
yummier.

Suddenly, Jason sniffed the flesh.

Its semi-salty, mushy smell seemed to be blended with a lemon-orchard
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
though the sole were a girl's cheek.  This was so naughty!  Jittery like a
squirrel, he swooped toward the other sole, sniffed it, and kissed it.

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

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

"Oh, tiger," Wesley said, thrashing his head on the bean sofa.  "I've never
been so turned on ... 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, he
snuffled and kissed the flesh, kneading Wesley's quadriceps the way a guy
touched a girl.

Wesley squirmed like a ferret trying to squeeze through some hole.  Goose
bumps popped all over his skin, and his eyelids fluttered half-shut.
Still, Wesley's 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 that petrified the straight collegian
like few things in life 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.

Catching his breath, Jason straightened his body into an L.

"Yeah!" Wesley growled, ready for another lap around the racetrack.  "Feed
your dick into me."  He started to rub his nuts--squeezing and releasing in
rapid succession.

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

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

What would Wesley and Jason's parents say if they caught the twinks--not to
mention Darcy--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, animal sex?

You're our country's future, Jason's mother said in his head.  Her frail
voice echoed, Many enemies walk in our midst.  Jason's balls approached
blastoff.  You must be ever vigilant against them.

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

Darcy kept rubbing herself furiously.

Jason's nuts slapped the blond hard.

"Fuck me harder," Wesley heaved.

"Like this?" Jason said, plunging in like the landing gear of an airliner
touching down upon a runway.

"Harder."

"How about now?"

"Just like that," Wesley said, rubbing his balls faster than water whirling
down a toilet.

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

The semen shot up his cock like an injection.  A second squirt rocked his
innards, then another ... and another ... and another.

Jason howled like a wolf in the wild, twisting his back into a reverse C.

Wesley suddenly tensed and relaxed his ass.

Not only did this squeeze more seed out of Jason; the sight of Wesley
squirting white stuff right and left added a visceral intensity to Jason's
physical tension.  Thank God that science had 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.  Reclining her
cheek on Jason's back, Darcy blocked some of the night breeze that was
blowing through the sliding glass door.

Nonetheless, Jason continued to rest on Wesley, basking in the male-male
intimacy that more straight males of his generation were opening themselves
to under the slogan: Bisexual Liberation.  The peace that now enveloped
Wesley and Jason truly defied words.  Hopefully, Jason concluded, society
would someday reach the point when all guys could attain this level of
contentment, free from guilt and inhibitions.