Date: Tue, 24 Mar 2009 20:07:47 -0500
From: Morris Henderson <bigmoh@post.com>
Subject: PERKS OF MY JOB

     After college, I took a job with a software company that
wrote special computer applications for hospitals.  I was eager
to get started and begin applying what I had been learning at
school.

     The Regional Manager in charge of our office was Larry, the
son of the company's founder.  He was bright, energetic, and
fully qualified for his responsibilities.  I admired him for
many reasons: his poise, intelligence, and--not to leave
anything out--his physical fitness.  His wife, whom I had
occasionally seen dropping him off and picking him up and once
at an office party, was especially attractive.  They were always
very attentive to each other.  I envied him for having such a
beautiful woman to share his bed.

     A call came in one Tuesday from a customer whose computer
system had crashed and needed some technical assistance in a
hurry.  Larry called Michelle, Susan, and I into his office.
"Look," he began, "I know it's asking a lot but I want you three
to fly to Pittsburgh with me right away to get a customer's
computer back on line.  It's short notice, you'll just have time
to pack a bag in case we have to stay overnight.  Will you help
me out on this?"  We all agreed.  "Fine," he said.  "Meet me
back here at 5:30 and I'll drive us all to the airport.  And
thanks."

     By 5:15 we were waiting at the front door of the office.
He pulled up in his minivan and we got in with our overnight
bags.  His wife was in the front seat.  "Sharon is coming along
to do some shopping," he explained.

     In Pittsburgh, Sharon took a cab to town while we caught
one for the customer site.  We started working on the problem
about 8:45 at night.  By 12:30 we realized it would take at
least another half day to write, load, and debug all the
patches.  We gave Larry the bad news when he came in after
talking to the customer's executive staff.  "Shit," he said and
then immediately apologized to the girls.  "OK, we'll get hotel
rooms.  It will be better to continue working on it when we've
had some sleep."  Larry got on the phone to his wife.  He had
previously asked her to reserve hotel rooms; even if we solved
the computer problem that night, it would be too late to fly
home.  We couldn't hear what he was saying but he didn't look
happy.

     He came over to us with the report.  "There's a damn
convention in town and Sharon could get only two rooms.  And she
had to bribe the desk clerk for those.  But we've got it figured
out.  Sharon and the two girls will stay in the room with two
double beds."  He looked at me.  "You and I will bunk up in the
room with the queen-sized bed.  That separates the girls and
guys and keeps us all honorable.  Is that OK with all of you?"
None of us objected because we were all exhausted and ready for
a good night's sleep.

     In the hotel room, Larry said, "Go ahead and shower if you
want, I've got some calls to make.  Nobody will be in the office
but I can leave some voice-mail."  This was typical of Larry --
always working.  Although I hadn't given a thought to sharing
the one double bed with him, the thought would not have stayed
long because he was so obviously straight, so obviously devoted
to his wife, and so obviously concentrating on work.  I went in
to shower, undressing in the bathroom.  As I lathered my cock it
started to get hard.  Usually, I would enjoy a quick jerk but I
knew Larry was waiting for the shower so I rinsed off, dried
with an extra soft towel, and caught myself mentally apologizing
to my cock for not giving it the treatment it needed.

     When I came out, wearing only my briefs, Larry was still on
the phone.  As I walked to the double bed, I thought I saw him
check out my crotch that was bulging a little more than normal
because my cock was still somewhat hard.  "Can't be!" I thought.
"Larry's too involved in his phone call to be checking me out."

     Larry hung up and started undressing.  His white cotton
briefs fit snugly around his waist and they tightly cradled what
had to be an admirable cock and balls.  "Don't even think about
it," I told myself.  Then he walked over to me.  Standing at the
side of the bed with that ominous bulge not far above my head,
he thanked me for coming on the trip and working late.  I
couldn't help checking out his crotch more closely.  I just
hoped, as he walked to the bathroom, that he hadn't noticed my
indiscrete glance.

     I heard the shower running.  I imagined what he must look
like standing in there nude with the water flowing down his body
with soap suds dripping from a dangling cock and balls.  Or did
he jerk off in the shower like I had wanted to?  Probably not, I
thought, he just crawls into bed with that delicious wife of
his.

     When my cock started to stir, I deliberately concentrated
on the software problem.  I didn't need any unsatisfied
frustrations.

     I was almost asleep when he came out of the shower, a fresh
towel draped around his waist.  He dropped the towel and threw
it on a chair.  He was completely naked.  Since he was facing
away from me, I seized the opportunity to check him out -- broad
shoulders, narrow waist, and slightly hairy, muscular legs.  But
the best part was that I could see the cheeks of his ass with a
tan line that showed he spent a lot of time in the sun wearing a
bikini.  His buns, like the rest of his body, were perfectly
proportioned.

He turned around to pick up the bedside phone, giving me a full
frontal view and his cock.  My first impulse was to divert my
gaze but his impressive cock and low-hanging balls captured my
attention.  Reluctantly and with all the will power I could
muster, I rolled over to face away from him.  However, the sight
of his manhood persisted in my mind.  He left a wake-up call for
6:30.  I felt myself getting hard again at the image of his
naked body.  There was a little hair on his chest; it became
somewhat thicker below his navel and exploded into a profuse
thicket just above his cock.  I continued to get more horny.
How I would love to run my fingers through that dark, curly
mesh!  "Whoa," I thought to myself.  "This is your boss.   This
is an important job.  This guy is as straight as an arrow."  In
spite of my curiosity (let's call it lust), I forced myself to
think about the computer problem as Larry turned out the light
and quietly got into bed.

     I laid awake for a short time.  I couldn't help thinking of
Larry's naked body next to me in bed.  I was hard as a rock.
But, of course, there was nothing I could do about it.

     Finally, I dozed off.  I don't know how long I had been
asleep when a strange sensation bought me out of my deep sleep.
As consciousness slowly returned, I became aware of what caused
the sensation.  I realized it was not a dream and not my
imagination.  A hand was exploring my cock through my briefs ...
and it wasn't mine.

     I was suddenly wide awake.  Larry's hand was carefully
feeling the extent of my endowment.  Larry was my boss and I
didn't know how to react.  So I didn't.  I just lay there
pretending to be asleep.

     Part of me wanted to reach down and grab his cock, to tell
him that he was welcome to do what he wanted with my cock.  The
bigger part of me, however, didn't want to risk anything.  So I
just lay there as he continued feeling my cock that was now
getting rapidly hard.  My mind was racing, wondering what to do.

     As his hand started to slide down under the waistband of my
briefs, I reached a conclusion.  I'm no a high school senior;
I've been there, done that.  With at least a few other guys.  If
this is what Larry wants, then let it happen.  This is surely
what I want so I'm going to help it happen.

     His fingers were tracing circular paths through my pubic
hair getting closer to my aching cock that needed desperately to
be free from my constraining briefs.  "Feels good," I said
softly as I gave a very slight thrust with my hips.  Larry's
hand froze.  He must have been wondering if I was awake or just
talking in my sleep.  "Don't stop," I encouraged.  "It's just
getting good."

     Larry's hand still made no movement but he whispered,
"You're awake?"

     "Wide awake," I replied.

     "I'm sorry!"  His tone conveyed an unmistakable guilt that
was surprising.  He had always been so confident and composed.
"I had no right to do that," he said.

     "Don't be sorry," I replied.

     "But I am!" he said.  "I should have known better.  But I
couldn't help myself.  I've admired you since you joined the
company and being in bed with you was ... well ... more than I
could handle.  I'm sorry."

     I told you; there's no reason to be sorry.  I want the same
thing you do.  I want to give you whatever you want."

     "Christ!" he said, "I was afraid you were going to kick me
out of bed or something."

     When my hand found his cock, it was rock solid and precum
was already oozing out.  As I smeared the precum around the head
of his cock, I said, "Feels like you're a little ahead of me.
You'll have to help me catch up."  He threw the covers back,
moved over to straddle my legs and pulled down my briefs.  My
cock sprang up to greet him.

     "Hold on a sec," he said and walked over to turn on the
bathroom light.  It cast a dim glow throughout the room.  "Just
wanted to see what I'm working with," he said as he spread my
legs and knelt between them.  He bent over and started gently
massaging inside my thighs, working his hands up toward my
groin.  My cock went through its final stages of engorgement.
He reached my balls and cradled them in one hand while he ran
his finger along the sack and through the fuzzy hair that grew
there.

     He was no longer my boss.  He was a guy that enjoyed the
same pleasures that I did.

     My cock was throbbing.  "Ah, there it is," he said as he
started smearing my precum over the head of my dick.  "Now we're
even."  The temptation to jerk was raging in me but I decided to
let both of us enjoy it a little longer.  He was clearly
enjoying the view.  Meanwhile, I was enjoying the pleasure.  I
had learned to get pleasure from the pain of wanting desperately
to reach orgasm but holding back.  It was a unique form of
satisfaction to resist the urge to cum and certainly made the
eventual orgasm much more intense.

     He took my cock in his mouth and drenched it with warm
saliva.  I almost shot in his mouth.  He sucked for a few
minutes while I moaned my appreciation for his obviously
practiced skill.  Holding back was getting increasingly
difficult and I knew that I wouldn't be able to control myself
much longer.

     Just then, he straightened up and moved up to straddle my
chest.  I didn't know what to expect.  I was so close and he
left me stranded.  He lowered his ass over my cock and guided it
into his asshole.  My cock, well lubricated with his saliva,
started to slide into his hole.  This was a new experience.
Jerking and sucking was familiar.  I had seen photos of ass
fucking on the internet.  But I had never had my cock in
anyone's ass before.  It was a strangely satisfying feeling when
his sphincter resisted the entry of my cock.  It squeezed the
head of my dick and then released.  I felt my cock slide farther
and farther up his ass inch by inch.  It felt warm and
wonderful.  My cock was being squeezed from every side with just
enough pressure to let me feel every inch of it.  I was still
forcing myself to hold back although a moment's inattention
would release a torrent of creamy cum into his bowels.

     "You don't have to just lie there, you know," he
encouraged. "Put your hands to use."  I spit a wad of saliva on
my hand and started sliding up and down the shaft of his cock.
More precum oozed out.

     A healthy patch of pubic hair is a turn-on for me and his
was as profuse as any I had seen.  I guess, at least for me, it
carried a sense of sexual maturity, virility, and therefore
sexual capability.  I had sucked a couple of guys who shaved and
it reminded me of my pre-pubescence, a time of innocence, the
excitement of exploring the unknown, and discovering the
mysterious.  I much preferred a thick bush, the darker the
better, and Larry's was both.

     Larry was now slowly moving up and down, his athletic body
effortlessly and rhythmically stroking my cock with his ass.  I
could hold it no longer and blasted a full load of cum into him.
He must have felt my cock throb and known from my very audible
moan that I had given him the best I had.  He stopped moving and
let me enjoy the ecstasy.

     When I resumed stroking his cock, he immediately shot his
load in a great gush over my chest and stomach.  I looked up.
His head was held slightly back, his eyes were closed, and he
was moaning slightly.  Then he raised himself and my cock slid
slowly out of his ass.  He disappeared into the bathroom only to
return immediately with a towel.  As he wiped up his cum from my
chest, our cocks were going limp.

     "That was great," he said.  "Thanks.  But just one more
favor, if you don't mind."

     "Anything," I answered.

     "This was great," he went on.  "Oh I said that, didn't I?
But tomorrow is another day.  On the job and in the office, it
has to be the same as it's always been.  Is that OK with you?"

     "Of course," I assured him.

     "Let me explain," he continued.

     "No need to," I interrupted.

     "No," he said, "you have a right to know.  I'm quite gay,
you see, but that could damage my career and would absolutely
destroy my father.  I have to stay carefully in the closet."

     I was stunned and blurted out, "But what about your wife?"

     He paused before answering.  "A marriage of convenience.
We dated throughout high school and college.  It was the
socially acceptable thing to do.  It didn't take long, however,
for us both to realize that we were different.  She likes girls
and I like guys.  We came to terms with that early on.  We've
screwed.  We even have had orgasms together.  But we simply
decided that we had different preferences.  We both realized
that for social acceptance ... for our family's happiness ... we
would continue the charade.  It's worked out quite well, really.
We're great friends.  In fact, you could say that we love each
other in a way.  But we respect each other's private time.  We
keep everything very discreet, of course.  We put on a display
for public consumption."

     I was still trying to absorb the shock of his disclosure.
If I were thinking straighter, I would not have asked, "You mean
your wife in the other room is doing what we are?"

     "Heaven's no," he gasped.  "For one thing, she has much
more control than I do.  I knew the risk when I started feeling
you up but couldn't stop myself.  You have a great physique and
you seemed to have a wonderful cock.  I just had to find out
what it was like.  Besides, Sharon is in with two girls.  That
multiplies the risk.  Finally, I really don't think they are her
type."

     "OK," I said.  "Tomorrow is business as usual.

     "But," Larry added, "If we ever have a chance like this
again while we're off duty, let's go for it."

     "I'd like that very much," I said hopefully.

     Early the next morning, the phone rang.  Larry answered.
"Wake up call," he announced.  "Business as usual."

     As time went by, I often thought of the night in the hotel
with Larry but if he thought of it at all, he gave no
indication.  I concluded that, for him, it was a fling and he
was going to rely on his circle of friends, whoever they might
be, rather than get together with me again.  In the office, as
he had requested, it was business as usual.

****

     A week or so later, Larry asked if I would join him in a
meeting with a supplier to discuss a proposal to a large client.
He explained that he might need my help with some of the
technical details of the project I was working on.  "Of course,"
I agreed.

     "Good," he said.  "At 4:00 tomorrow.  At his place.  I'll
drive."  As he walked away, he turned to add, "Oh, it might run
a little late.  Do you have plans for the early evening?"

     "None," I answered."

     "Great, ... and thanks ," he said over his shoulder as he
disappeared.

     We drove across town and pulled into an exclusive
residential area.  Odd place for an office, I thought.  When
Larry pulled into a driveway of a very large house, I had to
ask, "The meeting is here?"

     "Yeah," Larry grunted, "Mitch's office is downtown but he
likes to get away from interruptions for meetings like this."

     A maid answered the door and led us into an opulent den off
the main entry hall.  I couldn't decide whether to admire the
home and its furnishing or the maid and her furnishings.  I did
a little of both.  Mitch came in and greeted Larry warmly.  He
was slightly older than Larry, early thirties I guessed, dressed
in casual chinos and a loose tee shirt, and (as best I could
tell) athletically built.  I was introduced and we immediately
sat down at a large table.  Larry and Mitch began discussing the
proposal.  It was clear that they had already had a lot of
discussion about it earlier.  From time to time one of them
would ask me for information and twice asked me for an opinion
on their decisions.  I couldn't follow everything they said but
tried to be competent in my limited area of knowledge.  As I
listened and watched, I decided that Mitch was every bit as good
a businessman as Larry: energetic, analytical, and focused
intensely on the project under discussion.

     It was almost 6:00 when Larry and Mitch decided that the
proposal was sound and ready to go into final draft.  Mitch
looked at Larry, "Good work.  Time for a quick swim before
dinner?"

     "I'm game."  Larry looked at me and asked, "Are you up for
a dip in Mitch's pool?"      "Sounds good," I replied, "but I
don't have any swim trunks."  Ordinarily, I'd jump in the water
in my underwear or nothing at all but this had to be business as
usual.

     "No problem," Mitch shot back, "I've got some spares.  I
fetch you a pair."

     Mitch left to get the swim trunks and Larry proceeded to
give me some instructions on overseeing the preparation of the
proposal.  Mitch returned with two swim suits.  He tossed one to
me ("I'm pretty sure this will fit you".) and the other to
Larry.  ("I know this will fit you.  You used it before.")
Turning to me, he said, "You can change in the bathroom at the
top of the stairs."  Turning to Larry, "You know where the
bathroom is down here.  I've already changed and just have to
slip my pants off."  We separated to go change.

     I went up the stairs into the luxurious bathroom with its
shower, hot tub, and view overlooking the big outdoor pool.  It
was then I noticed that the swim suit was a very skimpy speedo.
Putting it on, I found that it hardly covered my ass and that
fitting my cock and balls in comfortably was a challenge.  But
it had plenty of elasticity so I grabbed a towel and went
downstairs.  Larry and Mitch were waiting at the bottom of the
stairs.  I felt a little self-conscious until I noticed they
both were wearing skimpy speedos as well.

     "Last one in is a rotten egg," Mitch called over his
shoulder as he bolted for the pool behind the house.  Larry and
I took off after him.  Mitch dove into the pool, Larry followed,
and I was right behind.  Mitch and Larry lapped the pool six
times but I tired after four and sat on the edge of the pool to
watch them.  I was admiring the rhythm of their muscular bodies
moving effortlessly through the water.  Strong arms, solid
backs, strong legs, and (I couldn't help myself) firm asses that
rose from the water with each stroke.  Their speedos contrasted
with their tan skin but didn't conceal much of what was
underneath.

     I had finally caught my breath when Mitch and Larry
finished their laps and sat on the edge of the pool next to me.
The bulge in Larry's crotch was as large as I expected.  Mitch's
was every bit as large and intriguing.  I diverted my gaze just
in time as Mitch turned to me and asked, "How about some drinks.
What'll you have?"

     "Martini.   On the rocks," Larry replied.

     "Gin and tonic would be fine," I almost stammered.  Mitch
walked over to a poolside table, touched and button on an
intercom, and placed our orders.  This is really the life of
Riley, I thought to myself.

     We all did more laps before the maid approached, carrying a
silver tray with three drinks and some snacks.  As she returned
to the house, we sat at a table and sipped our drinks.  Larry
and Mitch were talking animatedly about their favorite vacation
spots while I could add little to the conversation.  Drinks
finished, Mitch asked, "Few more laps, guys?"  He got up,
paused, and added, "but to hell with modesty this time."  He
pulled down his speedo, showing us his bare ass, and dived in
the pool.  Without a word, Larry did the same.  They began
circling the pool as before except this time it was their bare
asses bobbing up out of the water as they swam.

     I faced another dilemma.  I could watch discretely and hope
to keep my cock under control or I could join them and risk
embarrassing myself.  Larry, who had been most insistent about
business as usual would surely be displeased with my arousal.
Adding to my reluctance to take off my swim suit was that the
house had lots of windows and the maid was probably still there.

     What the hell, I decided.  After all, it was Larry that
encouraged me to join in.  And if my cock doesn't behave, I'll
figure out a way to explain it away.  I took off my tight speedo
and dove in.  The freedom of skinny dipping was wonderful.

     Again, I was the first to tire and stood chest deep in
water at the edge of the pool.  I stayed in the water because I
didn't know what to do if I got out.  Larry and Mitch came
around again but stopped where I was.  Both hopped up and sat on
the edge of the pool giving me (deliberately?) an excellent view
of their crotches.  My groin started stirring again as I admired
the bounty between their legs.  I briefly noted Larry's dark
hair and the rest of his plumbing that had given me such a
wonderfully new experience in the hotel room.  Larry's cock was
dangling down, mostly due to its own weight.  His balls were
tightly drawn up, no doubt due to the slight chill in the water.
Mitch must have noticed my gaze but said nothing.  I
concentrated on everything that I could to avoid getting more
aroused.  My cock was already beginning to swell and, without
distraction, would soon be stiff.

     Mitch and Larry continued to chat.  Mitch swung his left
leg up onto the tiled edge of the pool, turning slightly to face
Larry to his left.  His right leg dangled in the water so that
his legs were spread wide apart and allowed a fuller view of his
cock.  What the hell is going on?  I wondered.  Are they
deliberately trying to turn me on or is it just innocent and
unself-conscious behavior?  Whichever it was, I felt my cock
continue to swell and by now it was probably poking straight
out.

     I had just decided to swim a lap or two in hopes that the
exertion would calm the fire building in my impatient cock.  But
I heard Mitch say, "Larry, we've been completely ignoring your
young friend.  That's pretty rude, don't you think?"

     "Yes," Larry responded, "We'd better right the wrong."

     They both jumped into the water on either side of me.  I
can't begin to explain my astonishment when I felt Larry's hand
on one cheek of my ass, Mitch's on the other.  Both of them were
gently squeezing.  Mitch's free hand found my crotch and he
began fondling my semi-hard cock.

     Instinctively, I tried to withdraw but Larry held me firmly
in place and said, "Mitch is a friend of mine and I've told him
you might care to join us for a little fun."

     I was stunned.  I knew Larry's preferences and life style
but Mitch's behavior had never given the slightest hint of his
tastes.  Hadn't he made some suggestive remarks about his lovely
maid?  As I stood there, Mitch's hand continued its exploration
and, to tell the truth, my cock was responding gratefully.

     "My," Mitch commented, "It would seem you're getting ready
for some real action."

     Business must be business, I thought to myself, but I guess
we're off the clock now.  We're just three guys who are ready to
relax and enjoy.

     "What do you say," Larry asked, "want to join us?"  I gave
my answer by reaching down and fondling his cock.  He smiled,
squeezed my ass a little harder, and ran a finger down the crack
of my ass until he could tickle my balls from behind while his
other hand continued to feel up and down my now fully erect
cock.

     Mitch's foot pushed both my feet forward and I lost my
balance.  Mitch grabbed me and easily lifted me to the surface
of the water so that my hard cock stuck up out of the water.  As
he carried me toward the ladder, inspecting my crotch, he said
to Larry, "Nice mast on this boat, don't you think?"  Larry just
laughed.

     We climbed out of the pool and walked across the tile
toward the sun-warmed grass.  Mitch motioned for me to lie down.
Mitch seized the opportunity to inspect my cock more thoroughly.
"Nice," he commented and then added a detailed analysis.  "Firm.
Long but not freakish.  Good angle; almost totally erect.  Head
in excellent proportion to the shaft.  Abundant pubic hair.
Even though it's wet and clinging now, it probably curls into a
tight mesh."  I wasn't sure I liked his cold analysis--it
sounded like a coroner describing a corpse--but I decided to
take it as a compliment.

     Mitch was lying on one side of me with his face inches from
my aching cock.  His fingers and eyes were thoroughly exploring
the entire area around my pelvis.  He spread my legs to better
access to my balls that were getting ready to send a stream of
cum up my cock when it was time.  His finger was stimulating my
asshole.

     "Look at me being rude again," he said and moved away.  He
now was on his knees, straddling my face.  He bent down again
and almost buried his face in my crotch.   "Now you can check me
out, too." he said.  His cock, now swollen, was pointing at my
Adam's apple just inches above my face.  His balls were relaxing
from the cool water and were starting to sag down toward me.
Above his balls, I saw a tight asshole surrounded by fine hair.
All inhibitions gone, I raised my head and started flicking his
balls with my tongue.  His cock continued swelling.  I reached
up with both hands, grabbing the top of his ass and raised my
head slightly to reach his inviting cock.  He responded by
lowering himself slightly.  I could now put the head of his cock
in my mouth and regain the use of my hands.  One hand went to
his balls and played with them.  I licked a finger of the other
hand and worked it slowly into his ass hole.

     Mitch, by this time, had my cock in his mouth and was
gradually taking it all in.  Before long, I felt the entire
length of my cock in his mouth and throat.  I had never been
able to do that without gagging but he seemed to have no trouble
at all.  With his saliva beginning to drool out and down my
balls, he started moving his mouth up and down while using his
tongue to add a side to side sensation on the shaft.  Every few
strokes he would withdraw and hold just the head of my cock
while circling it with his tongue.  At this point, there were
only two things that existed in the world: my cock being
expertly worked by his mouth and his wonderful cock in my mouth.

     I was first to let go.  I felt the cum stream up my cock
amid an electrifying shock that started in my groin and radiated
through my body.  My cock was fully inserted into his mouth and
the blasts of cum must have exploded deep in his throat.  He
didn't miss a beat, just slowed down to a stop but continued to
hold the entire length of my cock in his warm moist mouth.

     I started to feel badly because I could get only the head
of his cock into my mouth and it didn't seem to be enough to
bring him to climax.  I moved a hand down to the base of his
shaft and began stroking as I continued to tantalize the
sensitive head of his cock with my mouth and tongue.  It worked.
He tensed, relaxed, and dropped a load of cum that seemed to
fill my mouth completely.  I didn't swallow right away but took
a little more of his cock into my mouth and slowly swished his
warm cum around his cock head.  He moaned.  I took that to be a
compliment.

     Mitch rolled over on his back saying, "Wonderful, young
man.  You've got the equipment and know how to use it.  Not a
master craftsman yet, but an admirable journeyman."  More of his
cold analysis!  I chose to accept it as another compliment.

     Larry, whom I had completely forgotten about, was sitting
to the side of us cross legged, watching, and stroking his cock.
I noticed that precum was oozing out the top.

     Larry looked at the reclining Mitch.  "Did that wear you
out old man?  Or have you still got something left for me?"

     Mitch smiled up at him and said, "I can take you on any
day."  Larry moved in between Mitch's legs. He put Mitch's legs
over his shoulders and guided his cock into Mitch's ass.  He
grasped Mitch's waist with both hands. He was anything but
gentle pulling Mitch toward him as he thrust his hips forward.
He banged away producing an awesome thud with every stroke.  I
was glad he had been more considerate of me.

     Larry suddenly screamed loudly, "EEE-AHH," and stopped
still.  A blissful expression persisted on both their faces for
several moments.  Then Mitch's legs dropped down and locked
around Larry's waist.  They reached for each other, locked arms,
and Larry (with some difficulty) lifted Mitch and stood up.  His
cock was still deeply buried in Mitch's asshole, Mitch's legs
wrapped tightly around Larry's waist.

     Larry walked to the side of the pool, carrying Mitch, and
jumped in.  They submerged and didn't come up for such a long
time, I was sure they had both drowned in the water.  As I
hurried to get up and rush to the pool, both heads popped out of
the water gasping for air.  When they had filled their lungs,
they laughed and feverishly splashed water on each other and on
me.

     Mitch got out, ordered another round of drinks on the
intercom and settled into a deck chair.  His cock, like Larry's
and my own, had softened and hung loosely down.  Then it hit me.
Mitch had ordered drinks.  The maid would soon appear.  "Should
we cover up before your maid comes," I asked innocently.

     "Hell, no," Mitch laughed.  She was probably watching from
the kitchen window anyway.  One of the perks of her job, you
might say."  Then, suddenly, "You like girls, young man?  Larry
here doesn't.  But if you do, I can ask Sheila to join us if
you're ever out here again.  She can give head like nobody I've
met and does all kinds of more traditional things."

     I was speechless but forced out, "That sounds wonderful."

     "Tell you what," Mitch went on.   He reached for the
intercom button and said, "Sheila, if you don't mind, put on
your suit--maybe that white one--when you bring the drinks.  We
have a young man here who would appreciate your talents.  Just a
swim this time.  And could you bring some more of those cheesy
snacks on the tray?  Thanks, luv."

     Sheila appeared moments later with a tray of drinks and
snack.  She had on a white bikini that revealed almost
everything that her uniform had been hiding.  As she set down
the tray, she very obviously and without any attempt to conceal
it, examined my crotch.  I thought I saw her nod in approval.

     She then sauntered over to the edge of the pool, swaying
her hips in a way to be sure I could get a clear view.  I just
stared.  In the water, she did a few aquatics that were
designed, I'm sure to stimulate me.  From under the water, she
would float to the surface so that her ample tits came out
first.  Briefly, that's all you could see.  Then she swept her
arms to lower her head and raise her hips.  Now you could see
only her hips out of the water with that tiny bikini covering
very little of her crotch.  With these and a few other
suggestive maneuvers in the water, I felt a surging in my cock.
At this rate, I would have another erection before long.  What
the hell, I thought, there's nothing to be shy or reserved about
any more.  Surfacing the next time, the top of her bikini had
been removed.  Her richly dark nipples crowned two firm breasts.
The next surfacing revealed that she had removed the bottom of
her bikini and she paused slightly longer than usual to display
a thick mat of hair and two puffy lips that guarded the entrance
to her pussy.  My cock was now standing.

     Sheila swam to the edge and looked at Mitch and asked,
"Will that be all, sir?"  Mitch, having noticed my erection,
answered, "For now, Sheila.  Excellent show.  One of your best.
And you can see by checking out our young friend here that he
appreciated it too."  Sheila checked out my fully erect cock,
smiled, and licked her lips suggestively.  She dived to the
bottom of the pool and came up with the two small pieces of
cloth that was called a swim suit.  She got out of the pool,
flashed her crotch at me once more and walked into the house
swinging that beautiful little ass.

     "Getting late," Mitch said (It was only 9:30) and got up.
We followed, walking to the house bare ass naked.  He dropped
his speedo into a basket on the patio and suggested that we all
get dressed.  "That is," he said noticing my still hard cock,
"If you can fit into your trousers in that condition."  To my
surprise, I blushed.

     As we left, Larry asked, "Have time for a bite of dinner?
My treat."  "Sounds good," I replied, not knowing whether that
meant food and more fun ... or just food.

     Throughout salad and soup, Larry was reviewing the stupid
proposal and giving instructions on how to supervise its final
preparation.  None of my comments about Mitch, his house, his
pool, his maid, our activities had even been acknowledged so I
tried to pay attention to what he was telling me.  It was
difficult.  I couldn't get the vision of Sheila out of my mind.

     "You seem a little distracted," Larry finally said.
"Concentration wavering?"

     He was right, of course.  Much of my mind was on my cock in
Mitch's mouth and his in mine.  And there was Sheila.  I hadn't
been with a girl for months and was primed to resume that form
of pleasure.  Larry went on, "I really need your help on this
project, let's make sure we get it right."  It was if I was with
a completely different person.  In a way, I was.  Larry had two
personalities that, somehow, he managed to keep quite distinct
from each other.  Still, I wondered what lay in store after
dinner.

     He dropped me off at my apartment house about 10:30 saying,
"I know it's late but I hope you'll be in the office bright and
early.  We need to get to work on this proposal."

     "I'll be there," I promised with some disappointment about
not having another episode with Larry.

     Three weeks went by.  It was business as usual.  I had a
few dates with girls I met (only one of which ended up in bed).
I jerked myself on a regular basis.  But I longed for sharing
pleasure with other guys.  If not Larry, if not Mitch, then who?

     Larry called me into his office.  He closed the door.  "Got
an unusual favor to ask," he began hesitatingly.  "My nephew is
coming into the city this weekend.  He's 18.  A farm boy.  Part
of his graduation present, I gather.  My older brother has a
ranch in Montana.  I've got commitments this weekend that I
can't get out of.  Could you show him around?  I'll pick up the
tab for whatever you want to do."

     I agreed since I had no urgent plans.

     "Thanks," he said.  "But before you agree, there's
something else you should know about my nephew.  My brother
suspects he might like guys a little too much and wants someone
to chaperon him.  To prevent him from seeing the wickedness in
the big city, if you get my point."

     I didn't.  Was Larry putting a young man in my charge and
warning me to keep hands off?  I had to get clarification.  "Are
you saying no fun and games with him?  In bed, I mean?"

     "No," Larry explained.  "You and I both know that pleasure
can be found in many places but some of them are dangerous.  I
trust you.  And I don't trust the trash that he may run into in
some sleazy gay bar somewhere."   I was beginning to understand.
Larry went on.  "Mind you, I'm not saying he's your toy to play
with.  So don't start anything.  Unless you're sure he wants it.
If it starts, I guess you can enjoy yourselves.  But try to
steer him away from the real queers that cruise the gay bar
scene."

     His use of the term, queers, was surprising, coming from a
closeted gay.  Somehow, I knew he meant the unprincipled crowd
that just want a quick trick in an alley or restroom with a
stranger and then it's on to someone else.  It was like a very
good friend of mine, black, who distinguished between African
Americans and niggers.  Or another friend, a classmate in
college who was from the hills of Kentucky.  He had kinfolk that
were "solid Appalachian stock" but others were hillbillies.

     Larry and Sharon met Jerry at the airport Friday night, fed
him dinner at their house and dropped him off at my apartment
about 9:30.  He was a tall blond who had obviously developed a
terrific physique baling hay (or whatever farm boys do on the
farm).  Conversation revealed that he was well schooled (close
to straight A in high school) but ignorant about urban life.

     I suggested we have a couple of beers in the corner tavern
before getting some sleep.  My strategy for handling the
situation was simple.  I would assess his interests (sightseeing
for one, sexual preferences for another) before making any
decisions about where to go or what to do.  For example, in the
tavern, I would occasionally admire one of the young female
customers.  He agreed, weakly.  Inconclusive, I thought.  He
might be shy about sex in general or less interested in girls
than guys.  I made a comment about the variety of drinking spots
in a city: night clubs, taverns, bars, even bars that catered to
special clientele like bikers or gays.  I watched his reaction
carefully.  No unusual response to the mention of gays.  I asked
about his friends back in Montana.  His response, long and
detailed as it was, gave no clue about what he did to satisfy
his hormones.  My indirect inquiries were one dead end after
another.

     We returned to my apartment late.  He spread his sleeping
bag on the floor.  I offered to share the hide-a-bed in my one
room efficiency but he declined.  I concluded that his father,
who was afraid he liked guys too much, was wrong.  Or was Jerry
just being especially reserved?  The mystery remained.  I
decided that, unless my final test of his interests got a
reaction, nothing was going to happen.

     I engaged him in conversation and started to undress.  I
removed my shoes and socks and stood to remove my shirt.  As we
talked, I caught him dropping his eyes to my chest, maybe even
to my navel.  I dropped my trousers, stood there in my briefs,
and continued to talk.  No doubt about it, he cast quick but
decisive glances at my crotch.  I scratched my balls as I asked,
"Sure you don't want to share the bed?  The floor can be awfully
uncomfortable."  He hesitated.  I decided to encourage him just
once more to see if he was really interested.  "I've had lots of
guys stay over with me and there's really enough room in the
hide-a-bed for two of us."  He seemed more interested but still
hesitated and just sat there in my desk chair.

     "You've had other guys?" he asked, "Stay here with you I
mean."

     "Sure," I went on.  But I scratched my balls again, slowly
and suggestively--all innocent enough but designed to get him
interested if that's where his interests indeed were. "Sometimes
we crawl in bed and watch TV for a while.  Or just talk."

     His interest was showing.  "What do you ... I mean ... is
there any ... I mean, that's all?"  He was clearly testing me
now.  "Whatever comes up," I said suggestively.  "Depends on our
mood."

     The line was cast.  At this point, he would take the bait
or reject it.  And I would behave accordingly.  But he continued
to skirt the issue.  I decided on one final ploy.  If it brought
no response, I would cease to pursue the issue.  I took off my
briefs and threw them on the floor by the bed while watching
carefully for his reaction.  It was what I expected.  His eyes
widened and focused on my crotch for much longer than would be
considered proper for straight men.

     "You sleep in the nude?" he asked.

     "All the time," I lied.

     "When your friends stay over?"

     "Of course," I answered rubbing my stomach with my fingers

     "And your friends are nude?" he asked.

     This could go on all night, I thought.  He's already
confirmed his father's suspicions.  He was--finally--showing
definite signs of interest in sexual pleasure, although he was
painfully shy about getting to the point.  I concluded that we
could chatter on and on or get into things.

     "Look," I said.  "I'm bi.  Bisexual.  That means I like
girls and I like guys.  I masturbate.  A lot.  I'm sure you do
too.  When girls stay with me overnight, we engage in sexual
activities.  And I also enjoy sex with the guys who visit me."

     He was listening attentively and without any sign of
disapproval.  "Let me lay it out," I continued.  "I'm offering
you three choices.  One, you can sleep on the hard floor.  Two,
you can get in my bed with me and we'll leave each other
completely alone.  Or three, you can get in bed with me and
experience, maybe for the first time, what it's like to share
sexual activities with another guy.  Whatever you say goes."

     He thought for a long time, perhaps taken back by my direct
approach.  He was also pondering his choices.  "But my uncle,"
he said, haltingly.  I was tempted to tell him that Larry, of
all people, would understand.  But I thought better of the idea.
Instead, I replied, "Larry will never know.  Neither will your
dad.  Or anyone else.  Unless you tell them."

     He thought some more.  "I think," he began hesitantly, "I
think I'd like to try the third choice."  He paused just a
moment.  "That is, if you don't mind."

     "On the contrary.  I'm more than happy to share a bed with
you.  And anything else you'd like to try."

     His grin was radiant.  He undressed, except for his briefs,
and walked toward the hide-a-bed.

     "You might be more comfortable nude," I prodded.  He stared
at my cock but not long enough to be too obvious.  He took off
his briefs and let his cock hang.  I stared and didn't worry
about being obvious.

     "You've got a fine tool, farm boy.  Let's see how you can
plow."  I laid down on top of the covers and motioned him to
join me.

     I laid my arm across his chest.  "First time with a guy?" I
asked.

     "Yeah." he answered nervously.

     "We'll go slow.  Let me know if you want to stop.  For that
matter, tell me if you want any information or want to try
something."  I began massaging his muscular chest.  He was tense
but seemed to begin relaxing as he lay there quietly.  I moved
my hand down to his stomach, gently rubbing.  My hand moved
below his navel and I began to run my fingers through the thick
blond pubic hair that was like a curly, soft pillow.  Then,
still slowly, I moved lower to fondle his cock.  He gasped.

     "Did I startle you? Do you want me to stop?" I asked.

     "No," he moaned.  "Don't stop.  It's just that nobody has
ever touched me there.  It feels awesome."

     His cock was beefy, still mostly soft but beginning to
swell.  "Join in if you want to," I said. "Or just lay there and
enjoy if that's what you want."  He was on his back, I was on my
side.  His hand slide across and started to feel my cock that
was a good deal harder than his.

     I was fully erect for several minutes before his cock was
as hard as mine.  "What do guys do together?" he asked timidly.
"I've seen lots of animals mate so I've figured out what men and
women do.  But men together always made me curious."

     Wow, I thought, this is one innocent lad.  I decided to
start with the basics.  "Do you masturbate?" I asked.  "Yeah,"
he admitted, a touch of shyness in his voice. "In bed, in the
bathroom, when I'm sure I'm alone.  A few times I've been out on
the range alone.  I stripped naked and did it."

     "You ever jerk off with another guy?" I asked.  "Never," he
answered (at least he knew the term).  "Other guys will talk
about jerking themselves and I've always wondered how they did
it.  But I've never actually seen anybody do it.  I've imagined
watching some of my friends doing it."

     "Well, one thing guys do together," finally getting around
to answering his question, "is jerk each other off.  It feels
great.  Want to try?"

     "Sure," he replied.  So I moved down toward his swollen
cock and started stroking.  Then I licked my fingers and rubbed
the head of his cock.  As I did so, I had a good close-up view
of his equipment.  They grow them big and healthy in Montana, I
thought.  His reactions were controlled, still a little nervous,
but he was clearly enjoying the experience. I continued stroking
while teasing his balls with my other hand.  Soon, I was using
his precum to lubricate the periodic rubbing of the head of his
cock.

     I desperately wanted to taste his cock, to take it in as
far as I could.  But I reminded myself that we had to go slow.
Soon, he shuddered, his cock trembled, and I knew he was ready.
I saw the blast of cum start to rise up the shaft of his cock.
I squeezed hard, preventing it from escaping out the end.  I
held it for just a moment.  The slight pain made him cry out.
Then I let go as my free hand diverted a great stream of creamy
cum onto his chest and stomach where it formed a large pool.  He
lay there panting.

     "Holy cow," he finally said. "That's a lot better than
doing it alone."  And there's more in store for you, I thought
to myself.

     I asked him if he had ever tasted his cum.  "No," he
admitted.

     "You should try a little," I urged.  "Dip in you finger and
lick it off."  He did as instructed but screwed up his face.

     "It's an acquired taste," I commented.  I walked to the
bathroom, my erect cock bobbing in the air, and returned with a
towel to clean him up.

     "Can I do it to you now?" he asked.  I was very horny
having seen that lonesome Montana pine rising up from the
underbrush and standing majestically at the top of the canyon
formed by his thighs.  His cum was like a frozen mountain lake,
all white and glistening.  It all made me very hot.

     "Be my guest," I replied as I laid down flat on my back.
He moved down, gripped my cock as if he was strangling a snake
and started beating furiously.  Not very subtle, I thought, but
strangely erotic.  I thrust my hips high and released a pearly
stream of cum high into the air.  It splashed down across my
chest and stomach.  Jerry finally released his vise-like grip
and allowed blood to circulate in my cock again.

     I laid there for a few moments.  "Thanks," I muttered.
Without another word, I saw him dip his finger in my cum and
bring it to his mouth.  Licking his finger, he again screwed up
his face but not so noticeably as before.  Using the same towel,
he wiped up my cum.

     "So that's what guys do together?" Jerry asked.  I was
exhausted and ready to get some sleep.

     "That's one of the things," is all I replied.  "Now let's
get some sleep.  Tomorrow is another day."

     I was awakened by a short but loud cry.  Only a night light
illuminated my apartment but it was enough to see Jerry sitting
across the room.  He had just jerked himself off and cum was
sliding down his chest.  He took two fingers, scooped up some of
his cum and licked it off.  He continued the ritual until his
chest was clean.  I guess he had acquiring the taste, I thought.
Before long he slipped carefully back into bed and I fell back
to sleep.

     On Saturday, we did the tourist bit: zoo, museum, even
walking around downtown.  At every opportunity (when we could
talk freely), Jerry was asking about what I did with the guys.
He was much less interested in sex with girls.  I began to feel
like my old prof in the sexuality class but, of course, my
descriptions were much more graphic.  I was sure to include
warnings about pick-ups.  And I was sure to explain the pros and
cons of revealing or concealing his preferences.

     We returned to my apartment where I was going to fix some
stir-fry for dinner.  Jerry was, by this time, eager to
experiment with some of the things we had been discussing.
Dinner was delayed.

     "Can I taste your dick?" he blurted out.

      "Sure," I replied, "but just for future reference, it's
better to build up to it."

     "What do you mean?" He asked curiously.

      "Lay down on the floor," I said trying not to sound too
commanding.  He obeyed.  I knelt down and began to slowly
unbutton his shirt, reaching under his shirt from time to time
to massage his well-developed chest.  I removed his shirt and
continued massaging, now giving attention to his nipples.  I
moved down his torso with my hand.   I unbuckled his belt and
unzipped his fly.  I felt his cock that was beginning to harden
under his briefs.  I pulled down his pants to his ankles and
returned to his crotch.  I slid my hands slowly under the
waistband and gradually lowered his briefs.  His pubes came into
view.  I traced circles in the hair with my fingers.  I lowered
his briefs some more.  The base of his cock came into view,
clearly showing signs of hardness.  When his briefs were fully
down and around his ankles, his cock sprang up.  I wrapped my
lips around the head of his waiting cock, flicking with my
tongue.

     I continued sucking his dick for a few minutes but then
stood up abruptly.  "That's the way it's done.  Don't just unzip
and start chewing."  I probably sounded harsh but I didn't want
a repeat of his athletic pounding from the night before.
"Remember, s-l-o-w-l-y," I emphasized.

     "Right, coach," he said,

     I laid down on the floor.  He sprang up, kicked off his
shoes and pants and stood above me with his gorgeous cock
extending straight out.  He was a quick learner.  He undressed
me as I had him.  When I felt his moist lips around the tip of
my now hard cock, it was extremely welcome.  In spite of my
warnings to go slow and gently, however, he seemed to be
aggressive in his attack.

     I pushed his head away and said, "Lesson two.  Lay down.
Pay attention to what I'm doing."  He did.

     I gave him the best, slowest, most sensuous sucking that I
could.  He was writhing in pleasure.  Then, his body tensed and
he growled, "I'm gonna shoot!"  When he shot into my mouth it
hit the back of my throat with surprising force.  I swallowed
most of it and spread the rest around the tip of his sensitive
cock.  His moans were like applause to stage performer.

     He looked up at me.  "That's really wonderful.  Thanks.  My
turn now?"  I laid down as he got up to his knees.  "Before you
start," I interrupted, "are you prepared for it."

     "What do you mean?" he asked quizzically.

     "If I shoot in your mouth," I continued, "it will be a new
sensation.  Not every guy likes it."

     Without a pause he said, "But I might and I've got to try
it."

     It was not the best job ever done on me but it wasn't the
rough-riding, bronco-busting effort of the night before.  He was
reasonably successful in duplicating my technique.  When I shot
into his mouth, it seemed to take him by surprise.  He swallowed
some but a lot leaked out and dripped down my cock and onto my
balls.

     He laid down next to me with is head close to my pelvis.
He watched my grateful cock grow limp.  "So now you've tried
it."  I said.

     "Yeah," he replied, "Not like I imagined it.  Better."

     We ate dinner--in the nude.  He commented that even that
was different than he had ever experienced.  "Oh, you like stir-
fry?" I teased.

     "No," he replied humorlessly, "just sitting around together
naked.  That's something that would never happen back in
Montana."  I let my weak joke die.

     That night, in bed, we did a 69 on each other.  His
principle reaction was, "Geez, it gets better all the time!"

     Sunday morning we did more of the tourist bit, visiting
some more sites that he could never see in the hills of Montana.
That day, however, his questions focused mostly on what I did
with girls.  I explained that sex with girls was different but
just as satisfying.  His curiosity was endless.  His questions
were sometimes terribly naive but I answered them all.

     Larry met us about 4:00 that afternoon and took Jerry out
to dinner and then to the airport.

     Monday morning, Larry called me into his office and closed
the door.  "How was the weekend," he inquired.  I knew he wanted
to know more but deliberately evaded him.

     "Great," I replied and mentioned some of the tours we had
taken.

     "Cut the shit," he interrupted.  "Did you do anything with
each other?"

     "Well," I began thoughtfully while Larry strained to get
the information he sought, "Let's just say we enjoyed the time
we spent with each other."  Larry's eyebrows raised.  I still
hadn't answered his real question so I want on, "Your nephew may
turn out to be like you ..."  (I noticed a slight frown.) "...
or he may turn out like me."  (The frown vanished.) "Or he may
turn out as straight as his father.  But he understands his
choices.  He understands himself.  Whatever he does with his
life, his visit here will have given him a better basis for a
good decision."

     There was now a broad smile on Larry's face.  "Great," he
said, "I owe you one."

     "Consider the debt paid," I replied.  "It was a great
weekend."

     Larry's phone rang and he instantly switched channels.  He
was talking like the very successful, very promising regional
manager of a dynamic business.  I left his office and went to
work.