Date: Sat, 27 Jul 2002 00:03:01 -0400
From: Jon Royale <JRoyale@msn.com>
Subject: Prick Tease

This is a sexually explicit work of fiction meant for mature readers.  Any
resemblance between these characters to a living (or dead, I suppose)
person is purely coincidental.  All rights to this story are retained by
the author, who welcomes your comments.

copyright (c) 2002 JRoyale



Three days passed without the invitation appearing in my mail slot before I
faced the painful reality -- I'd been snubbed!  Just about everybody who
was anybody at our plant got an invite to the wedding of the year but I had
been quite deliberately, I surmised, excluded from the nuptials.  And all
because I was openly gay...and the groom was hiding his true sexuality
behind a certificate of marriage.  At least, that was my belief.

My name is Rex -- yeah, I know, big macho name for a full-time queer -- and
I'm thirty-six years old.  Never was married, never had a girl friend,
never copped a feel and never wanted to.  Hell, I've never even seen a
pussy up close!  I'm into guys one-hundred percent and always have been as
far back as I can remember -- back to the sandbox days when little Danny
Kreymore and I first showed each other our "pee-pees".  Don't quite know
how things ended up this way.  Last I heard Danny was a stressed-out
businessman with a Bible-thumping wife and two kiddies -- both girls --
while I went on to be an insatiable cocksucker!  Seems to me like I got the
better end of the deal!

Don't get me wrong; my life isn't one continuous string of one-night stands
-- anymore.  I've had at least three "meaningful" relationships that were
great while they lasted, until the spark fizzled out for one reason or
another.  Usually it was because I got a taste for something fresh and new.
My first lover actually caught me in the act with a fifteen-minute fling at
a pool party of a mutual friend and raised all kinds of embarrassing hell
before tearing away -- and out of my life -- in the supercool Jaguar we'd
purchased jointly (and he ended up keeping).  There'd have been a hell of a
lot less drama if he'd just dropped his trunks and joined us.  That kid who
had cruised me poolside was nineteen, cute as hell and had lips that went
everywhere!  I'm sure he'd have had no objections to a three-way in the
pool house.  Needless to say, it was quite some time before I was invited
to any more straight functions.

Not that I try, but I could easily pass in the hetero world.  Any degree of
those stereotypical gay characteristics are pretty much lost on me.  Only
reason I can come up with is that in my pre-pubescent, formative years I
found myself attracted to all the tough, macho guys -- so naturally that's
who I tried to emulate.  You'll be more apt to find me in a stadium
watching a ball game than in the theatre suffering through opera (although,
I confess, my binocs are generally trained on the athlete's jock).

I also spend anywhere from eight to ten hours a week at the gym which is
conveniently located en route from work to home base.  As well as helping
to keep my bod lean and mean, the gym is a great place to cruise the hard
bodied eye candy -- especially in the locker room.  My lusty eyes never
rise above the waist level in the domain of naked male flesh, which has led
to some pretty interesting offers.  You'd be surprised how many straight
married men have no qualms about getting their dick sucked by a
macho-looking queer like myself.

I'm exactly six foot tall with short, dark brown hair, hazel eyes and 230
pounds of meaty musculature on my well-kept frame.  The back, arms and
shoulders are big and strong from the heavy lifting I do twice a week with
the help of whatever hunky spotter I can attract.  My nicely curved pecs
sport a light dusting of hair which travels down the center of my flat
belly, leading to the thick nest in my jock.  I'm not one of those dudes
who snips, trims or shaves.  I like having a healthy bush...heck, it helps
fill out my already strained pouch...and I know the sex was really, really
good when next morning he's picking hairs from between his teeth.

My lower bod's not bad either.  With all the squats I do, my ass damned
well better look good.  Those firm, rounded cheeks of mine pretty well fill
out the seat of my pants and have virtually no jiggle when parted by
masculine hands.  Not that I've ever tried, but I bet I could rip out a
tongue -- or a cock -- by flexing those strong butt muscles.  Even my legs
are adequately beefed up; I'm not one of those dudes who works out only one
part of the bod and neglects the other.  A total package is what captures
the admiring eye.  Besides, leg extensions and calf raises leave my eyes
free to cruise the gym-buffed studs sweating it out in the pec deck
directly across from me.  If there's a dude punishing his pecs 'til the
damned nipples look they're gonna pop off, I have no other choice but to
remain seated working my thighs -- unless I want to get up and have
everyone see the semi-hard pressing against the front of my Nike shorts.
Lust alone is what created my corded leg muscles, thighs of steel and
heavily etched calves.

I'm making myself sound like some kind of ripped bodybuilder, which isn't
entirely accurate.  I'm not THAT defined!  But my physique is damned good
for a man of thirty-six and I intend for it to look this hot at forty-six
-- even fifty-six, if I can.  Pumpin' iron and checking out other muscle
jocks is second nature to me and always will be.

Kind of got off track with this story a little by boasting about my
eye-catching physical attributes but I thought you should have a mental
picture of the kind of guy I am.  Anyways, as I was saying, I failed to
make the guest list for Shawn Riley's wedding.  Shawny was twenty-eight
years old and had been working at the plant since he was just a kid of
sixteen.  He was the part-time office boy gofer until he turned eighteen
and then he was moved down to the sweat box with the rest of us manual
laborers.  The big boss liked the wise-cracking, smart-ass Irish kid, which
is the only thing that got him through those first couple of years.  But
when he was moved into production, the boy turned out to be a hell of a
good laborer and managed to keep the crew in good spirits with his dirty
jokes and mischievous actions.  I swear he must have been voted class clown
in high school because the kid was always pulling off one kind of prank or
another!

With his easy going, likeable personality it came as no surprise to anyone
in the company when Shawn was advanced to a supervisory position a few
years back, overseeing the rest of the laborers.  And, still, he was
well-liked by most everyone, probably because Shawn had no qualms about
stripping down to his tank top and toiling right alongside his subordinates
to get the job done.  By this time I had been promoted to a desk job in
administration, but when the going got tough I hung up my dress shirt and
flexed some muscle down in the sweat shop along with the others.  Not that
I was all that dedicated to my fucking employer, mind you.  Rather, I'd had
a crush on Shawn ever since I first laid eyes on him and secretly hoped
that one day I would be the one to "bring him out".

When he first started with the company Shawn was a tall, slim, almost
skinny kid with straight, longish chestnut hair parted dead center.  He
also had an unblemished youthful complexion and the sexiest pair of sky
blue eyes framed by long, almost feminine lashes.  Those eyes literally
twinkled when he smiled, the dimples in his cheeks deepening and his even,
pearly white teeth sparkling.  Like I said, the kid was reed thin at the
beginning so his handsome face was all sharp angles and planes.  As the
years went by, Shawn filled out quite a bit, but he was one of those guys
who would always have a long, cool frame and zero percent body fat.  I
seriously doubt his waist size increased even one inch, but the hard labor
built up his upper body and added some decent musculature to his once
scrawny arms.  When he'd stop in the air conditioned office at the end of
the day in his white tank T-shirt, I appreciatively drank in the
perspiration-slicked exposed hard male flesh and the jutting peaks of his
dark nipples reacting to the sudden coldness.  Glancing my way he would don
his street shirt, slowly and deliberately buttoning it up half way while
his eyes remained fixed on me before finishing his final business and
saying his good nights.  The fuck was teasing me, I knew it.  And I
appreciated it.  It was a ritual every day; I eagerly anticipated quitting
time knowing full well he'd walk through that door in his T and lock those
beautiful blue eyes with mine.

Normally with guys who came on to me in such a fashion, we'd have been
locked in the semi-private bathroom at the end of the hall before now, but
Shawn was something different.  Like I said before, the young buck was a
huge jokester; he was quite obviously playing off on whatever it was he'd
heard about me.  I wasn't all that old that I couldn't see the smirking
from the two girls in the office as they watched Shawn's deliberate
tough-guy tease of me, the well-renowned semi-macho, yet mucho-salivating
"fag".

I wasn't the only one he toyed with; this guy goofed on everybody at one
time or another -- and it was all meant to be taken in good, clean-cut fun.
Only problem in my case was that the little hunk was turning me on to no
end, and there wasn't a fucking thing I dared do about it.  I'd spent many
a sleepless night plotting alternate strategies to seduce the young
stud...and many, many more contemplating if I really should.  The sexy stud
muffin was fairly vocal in his negativity towards homosexuality (although,
like many other straight men I've known, the thought of two women making it
together was a turn on), but he never EVER made any personal affronts
towards me.  Rather, he was fairly respectful, most especially during those
rare times we were alone together.  In fact, he seemed a trifle sheepish,
as though he were nervous and uncomfortable -- or could it be a latent,
suppressed desire?  With an audience, he always had a wise-crack; alone he
was like a shy, little boy.  I fell even more in lust with him at those
times!

His verbal opinion about "queers", "fags", "fudge-packers" or whatever
other terminology he chose to use were always highly exaggerated -- as were
the rest of his macho attributes -- which is why my "gaydar" originally set
off its alarm.  There was SOMETHING about the way he smoked a cigarette
that was almost TOO James-Dean-ish, something about his bouncy, stalking
walk that was more like a thug from the Lords of Flatbush; something about
his otherwise crystal clear, perfect pronunciation which at will was
delivered in a deep baritone; something about nearly all his mannerisms
with SCREAMED of imitation.  It was as though he'd spent his youth
observing every macho image that came across his path -- or impressed him
from the movie screen -- and made himself a collective parody of all those
macho, tough guys.  He had the obligatory chain fastened from belt loop to
wallet, the worn work boots, faded and deliciously shrunken in all the
right places blue jeans and that stunned, almost stupid-looking expression
that even further endeared me to him (I imagined that look as I sunk my
hard-on deep in his virgin ass).  Wondering why he'd practiced his act so
close to the point of perfection, I surmised that he was attempting to
cover his forbidden interest in male sex.

I'd wanted to test my theory ever since the guy reached the age of consent,
but for one reason or another I never took that ultimate plunge.  Maybe it
was the thought of the unpleasantness which might occur if he should change
his mind at the last moment; which means I'd just have to tackle his ass
and rape him 'cos I'd be so sexed up after the extensive foreplay.  Maybe
it was not wanting to create problems at the work place; let's face it....I
had a lot of years into this company and a good pension going on.  Maybe,
and more than likely, I was really getting off on his little flirtations --
the office skin show, the way his hand brushed against mine when he handed
me a folder, the way his knee touched mine under the lunch table, spreading
those same legs widely apart seated straight across from me at staff
meetings while fixing his eyes with mine the entire time or the secret
longing emanating from those beautiful puppy-dog eyes as he glared at me.
By Jove, I had accepted his studly pussy conquests, of which he loudly
boasted (deliberately, I felt, in my presence) just as I grew acclimated to
my role in his life, existing just on the outside of his repressed
sexuality.

So indeed I was a little surprised -- and more than a little miffed -- when
I was excluded from his wedding.  I was all right to tease and joke around
with, but God forbid he should hazard raising any eyebrows by inviting the
gay co-worker he'd known for the past twelve years to share in his big day!
Mostly out of embarrassment I avoided revealing Shawn's slight to any of
the others, hoping against hope that he wouldn't take it upon himself to
reveal his deliberate snub and make me look even more like an asshole than
I already felt.  During those first few days after the invitations had gone
out Shawn could barely bring himself to look me in the eye.  I considered
cornering him and privately having it out -- at least to gain satisfaction
from unveiling his motives.  Maybe it wasn't his doing, after all.  Maybe
his intended bride scratched my name off the guest list.  What could they
possibly think I would do to mar their wedding?  It's not like I'm the type
of gay to show up in an evening gown and tiara and blow the father of the
bride in the john, for crissakes!!  (Perhaps the best man...)  Ultimately,
I decided that any altercation would appear to be some pathetic plea for
inclusion, so I opted to stew in my own self pity and spend the afternoon
of Shawn's wedding in the downtown adult cinema sucking as much cock as I
could possibly handle (and that's a LOT of cock!).  I would wash away my
misery in a sea of spent semen -- and hope the bride started her menstrual
cycle on the wedding night!

Nothing wrong with some wishful vengeance!

During these last few days just before the weekend when Shawn would become
a married man, the stud returned to his playful self around me.  Even more
so than usual.  He was back to wearing his tight, sweat-stained tank top --
only now he didn't even bother to cover up with a dress shirt when he came
to our offices.  Leaning across the counter on his youthfully muscular
forearms, his sultry eyes cast down my body -- brazenly giving me the
once-over from head to toe and then back again.  Certain the girls were
otherwise occupied, he glided his wet tongue along the contour of his pink
lips.  As much as I wanted to remain angry with him, my cock stirred and
thickened in my pants.  One of his hands ducked behind the counter as he
continued to stare at me through half-mast eyelids, quite obviously groping
himself!  My legs went weak and mouth went dry; I wanted to leap across
that fuckin' counter and nail the stud-muffin right there.  In fact, I
found myself advancing on the counter...advancing on him!  Just when I was
within arm's reach of the tall, hot hunk, a shit-eating grin spread across
his face -- those devilish dimples deepened and his blue pools sparkled
with delight.  Straightening, he playfully slapped my left bicep and
jovially boasted," How you been doing, buddy?"  The spell was broken; he
had toyed with me once again!

That wasn't all, though.  The next few days were filled with random
encounters and deliberate, longing looks from the tease.  Passing in the
hallway without conversation, he kept his gorgeous eyes trained on mine and
muttered "Stud!" as he came abreast of me, continuing on his way without a
backwards glance or another word.  For the first time in months, he sat
right next to me in the cafeteria, deliberately rubbing his jean-clad thigh
against mine under the table while conversing with the other workers seated
across from us.  The younger buck was sending me signals as though he
wanted me; knowing the rules of his game didn't make his flirtations any
less enjoyable.  Quite the opposite: I was becoming hornier and hornier for
him!  Don't know how much cock-teasing a grown man is supposed to take, but
I was well past the breaking point.  Had we run into each other in the
company bathroom, I think I might very well have overpowered the
wise-cracker, ripped open the set of his pants and shoved my leaking cock
right up his tight, virgin asshole as he struggled in my strong grip.  You
see, I decided some time ago that in a battle of brawn I could manage to
"take out" the younger buck -- with a little effort, of course.  Even job
security was no longer an issue; the way this hot fuck had been cajoling me
I was pretty self-assured I'd emerge victorious with the human resource
review board.  Never had I entertained thoughts of man-rape, but years of
Shawny toying with my hormones had me over the edge and ready to prove who
the real "man" amongst us was.

As luck would have it, I never had to resort to violence; events took quite
an unexpected and highly pleasurable turn two short days before the cutie's
wedding.

Shawn was less animated than usual on that particular Thursday.  We all
figured it was a case of nerves, being that his life was about to take a
major turn when he uttered those two entrapping words.  Everybody tried
like hell to lighten his mood, but Shawny was too visibly distracted with
his pre-nuptial jitters -- or so we assumed.  He was taking the next day
off (probably so he could nervously chew his nails in private) so this was
the last day we'd spend with Shawn as a single, independent man.  He
stopped by the office as usual at the end of the day and disappointed me by
not even offering his usual shirtless pose.  Everybody wished him well; as
it turned out, I was the final one to extend congratulations -- me, the one
who'd been snubbed!!

He took my extended hand and I gripped his calloused palm tightly -- more
tightly than a normal friendly shake, subconsciously exhibiting my superior
strength, I guess.  Blinking those long lashes, he refocused those smoky
blue orbs on my own hazel irises and then looked to my thick, pouting lips.
The look was one of unmistakable longing and smoldering desire, as though
he were about to lean in to me, plant his lips over mine and initiate a
slow, seductive kiss.  My cock twitched excitedly at the prospect, even
though I was waiting for the typical "Shawn antics" to take over.  But in
that all too brief moment, so brief that it went unnoticed by everyone in
the office, he didn't crack that wise-ass grin or in any way cheapen the
moment for me.  Rather, he was leaving me with a mental image to
more-than-adequately feed my masturbatory fantasies about the two of us.

Leaving the building, my thoughts were all of young Shawn.  Another
potential lover gone, victim of the straight world's marriage-go-round!  I
was convinced, now more than ever, that the young man harbored repressed
feelings of homosexuality.  Damn me straight to hell for not having
successfully brought his sleeping sexuality to the boiling point!  Or had
I?  Perhaps his remorse today had nothing to do with the impending
nuptials; could there be a sexual war waging within Shawn's trim, desirable
body.  And might I, the hunkiest gay stud he knew, be at the root of his
indecision?  Shaking my head, I grinned at my overactive ego.  Time to move
on; forget about my twelve year obsession and find myself another, more
attainable, stud muffin.  There are plenty of them with tender, yielding
bodies and oozing, suckable cockmeat.  Yes indeed, I decided as I crossed
the parking lot to my sports car purposely located at a far corner of the
lot, while Shawn attended his ritualistic bachelor's party tomorrow night I
intended to have a party of my own -- a hot, ball-drenching sex party with
every cute thing I could find in attendance.

I was so preoccupied by my own thoughts that at first I failed to notice
the blue Dodge 4X4 backed in next to my set of wheels, driver's sides
abreast each other.  Shawn was slouched low in the seat behind the wheel,
one naked arm dangling down outside the window with a lit cigarette pinched
between his fingers.  With his other hand he was drumming the beat of
whatever rock 'n roll song played on the compact disc against the steering
wheel, carefully watching my advance.  My heart was in my throat.  He
hadn't parked there this morning.  The sexy stud must have claimed this
spot only a few minutes before.  Quite obviously he was waiting for me.

Swallowing the lump in my suddenly dry throat, I stepped in between both
vehicles and halted facing his open window fumbling with my ring of keys
for the proper one.  He had lost his shirt and was relaxing in his T-tank.

"Thought you would have been long gone by now," I managed to sound
nonchalant, as if his being there hadn't fazed me in the least.  At first
he didn't respond.  With those icy cool eyes fixed on me, he slowly brought
the cancer stick up to his lips and took a deep drag.  Holding the smoke
deep in his lungs, he slowly and seductively let it out in a sweet-smelling
trail that washed over my face.  Expertly flipping the cigarette around on
his fingers so that the filter faced away from him he silently offered it
to me.  Now, I'm only a casual smoker but there was no fucking way I was
going to turn down an offer from this young super stud.  But instead of
taking the butt from him, I leaned in and put my lips on the filter as he
held it out for me and took a drag.  Our eyes never once broke contact
during the exchange, although his widened slightly at my bold move.  As I
released my stream of smoke, he purposely returned the cigarette to his
fine, juicy lips and took the final drag before tossing it to the pavement.
My cock was getting awfully hard in my slacks.

"Wanna pick up a six pack?" he asked, those heavy-lashed blue eyes all
smoldering sexuality.

"Sounds good.  My place?"

He hesitated only for a second or two, but long enough for me to fear the
latest game was over.  "Your place."

It takes twenty minutes to drive to my town house but, stopping for the
beer, we were close to half an hour before pulling into my lot.  My fucking
cock was throbbing the entire trip.  In my wildest dreams I hadn't
anticipated the day ending like this!  Once inside, Shawn sat his fine ass
down on my sofa, popped a beer and proceeded to drain it in a few long
swallows.  Swiping his lips with the back of his hand, he proceeded to open
another while I sat myself down on a nearby easy chair, not even halfway
done with my first.

We engaged in a bit of stilted small talk about everything from the job to
his impending marriage, although the subject of my nixed invitation never
was raised by either of us.  After a while the beers helped him to relax
and he slowly became the animated young jokester I had come to grow and
love.  He was pretty impressed with my place and got up to select a CD from
my collection and pop it into my player while I went upstairs to slip out
of my work clothes.  When I returned in a pair of shorts and tank top of my
own, the room was filled with a nice jazz melody.  He appreciatively took
notice of my strong arm muscles, leading into a discussion about weight
lifting and body sculpture.

Somewhere around the fourth beer the conversation took a decided turn.
Shawn was definitely loosened up, although he didn't look or act like he
was loaded.  He had his head resting back on the sofa, eyes staring
unseeing up at the ceiling and taking in the melody from the stereo.  His
jean-clad legs were deliciously widespread and his hands were tapping out
the tune on his nice thighs.  Neither one of us had said a word for a few
minutes until Shawn refocused.

"Suck a lot of cock?" He'd finally managed the words he'd been struggling
for through all our cheap small talk.  He was peering, it seeming, right
through me -- uncertain how I might respond.

"Hey, what can I tell ya?" I shrugged dramatically, observing the wheels
turning in his mind and secretly pleased he had broken ground.  "I know
what it takes to get a guy's nuts off."

His mischievous blue eyes twinkled and a broad grin spread across his
still-boyish face as he stretched his arms across the back of the sofa.  "I
just bet you do, you sleazy cocksucker, you."  He wore a cocky expression
as he tilted his head slightly to the side, eyes squinting almost
conspiratorially as he asked, "Ever do anybody on the job?"

I'd had twelve years of learning Shawn's hook and bait routine and wasn't
about to let the handsome hunk charm me into any damaging confessions.
With a sly smile, I mysteriously replied, "A few."

For a few second there I thought the hottie was going to have a seizure or
something.  He sat bolt upright at attention, an incredulous look etched
across his mug. "NO SHIT!  Who?"

Shaking my head, I responded, "No way, dude!  I'm not the type to suck and
squeal.  But let me tell you, you'd soil your undies if you knew about some
of the dudes I've done.  You've worked right along side some of them."  I
rather liked the way his jaw sort of dropped; for a change I was the one
being the tease.

"Hot fuckin' damn!" he exclaimed, taking another swig of his beer and
falling back against the sofa, widespread legs stretched out in front of
him.  "I thought you were the only queer...I mean, gay guy...I mean, you
know what I mean...I thought you were the only one there."

I raised a brow, my memory searching.  "Far as I know, I am."

He leaned forward again, that adorably stupid look on his angular face.
"Wha........? What the fuck!  Are you sayin' you sucked straight cock?
HOLY SHIT, MAN!!!"

Boy, was I ever enjoying feeding my bait to this big fish, titillating his
imagination with fragments of information.  I knew there was a smug,
satisfied look about me as I took a little trip down memory lane, one hand
tracing a path up and down my big bicep. "Sucked them, ate their holes,
drank their cum, took 'em up my ass and sometimes -- not all the time, but
sometimes -- got a piece of hairy ass myself!"

The wise-cracking prick was speechless for a change. I'd just recounted
everything he probably ever dreamed of doing if he could just break through
and completely explore his sexuality.  My cards were laid out on the table;
I don't know what more of an invitation I could have given him.

A self-satisfied smile played over my lips as I watched his hand absently
grope at his stuffed crotch.  His words came slowly, almost shyly.  "I-I've
always wondered what it would be like...to have, you know, another
guy....get me off."

I was out of my chair and seated right next to him before poor Shawn had
the chance to take another breath.  When opportunities like this come
knockin', you don't wait around.  Sliding my hand under his own, I squeezed
the big bulge in the crotch of his pants.  Shawny was hard as rock!  He
tried to move his hand away, but I covered it with my other, forcing him to
help me rub the erection burning through the faded denim of his jeans.

Shawny's baby blues were all glazed over, like he'd fallen into a trance
and the hot stud broke into a sheen of nervous perspiration.  "I-I don't
think I sh-should be doing this," he almost whispered, bottom lip quivering
excitedly.

"Don't think about what you SHOULD be doing," I selfishly advised.  "Think
about what you WANT to do -- what you've ALWAYS wanted to do!"

He didn't try to stop me as I fumbled with his zipper and exposed the
sweaty white of the young fuck's briefs.  Funny, but I had taken him for
one of those boxer babes, although I was pleased to see he preferred the
firm fit of standard Fruit of the Loom briefs.  I wrapped my fingers around
his nicely sized package and began massaging him through the thin cotton
material.  Shawn's hand moved back and forth along my working wrist, almost
as if he were jerking off my forearm.  Sure wished he had instead decided
to do the same inside my heated shorts, because my own big boy was
throbbing with pent-up lust and already leaking sizeable amounts of
pre-cum.

I had my other hand on his flat lower belly, my fingers slowly trailing the
growth of light brown hair that expanded into his jock.  Dipping under the
hem of his briefs, I reached into the sweaty confines and easily found his
cocked young gun.  He burned hotly in the grasp of my hand, naked flesh on
naked flesh, as I slowly gave him a nice introductory pumping.  Yanking
down his briefs, I hauled out his silk-covered, cum-filled, sweaty ballbag
and roughly kneaded it in the palm of my hand.  I stroked him a few more
times until I felt a sticky wetness run between the spaces of my busy
fingers and saw that his sweet, mushroomed dickhead was heavily oozing
stud-juice.

Being the kind of guy who doesn't like to let one dollop of sauce go to
waste, I leaned over his steamy crotch and started licking his perfectly
shaped crown.  After lapping up all the salty pre-cum I ran my tongue all
around the thick purple ridge and covered his sensitive cock head with
long, dog-like laps.  Wanting to really get at him, I tugged the waist of
his pants with both hands.  Shawny pitched in by raising his butt off the
sofa and lent two helping hands in dragging his jeans and briefs down
around his ankles.  I went to work on his healthy young cock, sucking him
deeply into my mouth and riding up and down at least half of his hard
length.  One hand was wrapped around his thick shaft, feverishly stroking
the wet stalk as I fucked him with my sloppy face.  Grasping hold of his
ball bag and pulling down, I succeeded in forcing his beautiful dick to
stand almost perfectly upright.  The dude had a great cock, just as I'd
always known he would have -- and I wanted to eat every fucking inch of it!
Slowly and deliberately, I went down on him.  My lips pouched out again and
again as I traveled down his wet shaft, swallowing more and more of him
until his meat was throbbing way down in my throat and my nose was tickling
his ball bag.  In this position I couldn't see him, but the load moan which
escaped his lips was unmistakable!

I milked him with my hot, deep throat for a long while until I thought I
was gonna suffocate on dick.  Coming up off of him, I took a look at Shawny
as I stroked his sloppy wet beefsteak and nearly blew a load myself.  He
looked so fuckin' sexy slumped back there in the cushions of the sofa,
observing me through heavy eyelids with succulent lower lip jutting out and
mouth hanging provocatively open while he clawed at the arm rest with one
hand and tugged at his T-shirt with the other.  He'd cut off his long hair
years ago and now sported that trendy buzz-cut almost down to the scalp
along the back and sides and longer on top.  Shawny must have had a pretty
good stylist, because his was tapered just right so that the fuller,
baby-fine hair naturally spiked out on its own accord and literally bounced
atop his head when he strutted.  He was fond of running his fingers through
his top hair, pushing those fly-away strands from his usually sweaty brow.
The fine texture of his shiny hair hinted at the unavoidable fact that he'd
probably be bald by forty but, even then, I didn't think it would detract
from his abundant animal magnetism.

Since it was well past 6 P.M., we were both sporting a bit of bristle on
our jawlines.  Of the two, I knew mine closely resembled the much-touted
five o'clock shadow, whereas Shawn's light-colored facial hair more
resembled a pattern of bristles breaking out from under his pink Irish
skin.  Do I even have to tell you how fuckin' much I wanted to rub my face
against his or to feel the bristle of that chin deliciously tickling my
ball bag as he sucked my joint?  Shawny had one of those "soul patches" --
a manicured rectangular plot of hair right under his chinny-chin-chin that
could very well set my nuts a-churning!  Dark, sweat-caked tufts of hair
poked from under his armpits, looking mighty fetching to my watering mouth,
as did the hardened protrusions straining against the tightened cotton
stretched across his pectorals.

Despite the more-than-adequate air conditioning, I was hot as a
motherfucker and just had to get out of my clothes.  Rising from the sofa,
I purposely stood before him, pretty much in the playing field demarcated
by the stretch of his moderately-hairy thighs.  I yanked my shirt up over
my head and dropped it to the floor beside me.  Then, hooking my thumbs
under the sides of my shorts, I slid them down to my feet.  Our eyes were
locked the entire time, as I realized they had been throughout most of our
encounter thus far.  Mutual lust was there in both our eyes: his much more
challenging; mine, quite frankly, just unable to tear away from his smoky
blues.  Everyfuckingthing about the real Shawny was one hundred percent
improved over my many years of unfulfilled fantasies about him.  I was
beyond the realms of lust; I was nearing the final stage: ultimate
possession.

For the briefest of moments, those long-lashed eyes flicked downward,
widened slightly, and then refocused on my hazel orbs.  Refraining from a
self-satisfied smile at his display of curiosity, I took possession of my
leaking joystick and slowly massaged it.  Shawn was doing the same, jerking
his cock along with me as we remained in a battle of the dueling eyes.

He surprised me by standing right in front of me and pulling off his white
T.  I reached out and grasped one elongated nipple and twisted it between
thumb and index finger, watching the appreciative reaction from the stud.
There was lots more I wanted to do, like taking Shawn in my arms and
embracing him tightly as our mouths worked over each others necks, throats,
chins and mouths.  But, somehow, I managed to remain focused and not risk
going too far and losing him at this crucial point.  Resistance was hard as
hell when he bent over in front of me, face mere inches from my straining
cock, and unlaced his workboots, kicking them and his remaining clothing
off and out of the way.  We were standing stark naked, facing one another,
stroking our blazing cocks.

I dropped to my knees in front of him, planting a series of tiny tongue
kisses on his flat lower belly before attacking the musky-scented man sex
rising from his hairy groin.  Angling my head, I ran my thick lower lip
along the side of his shaft, opening my yapper as I neared the blunt tip.
My swollen tongue rolled up and teased the mass of nerves gathered at the
base of his mushroomed head, then washed over his cock slit, which had
begun oozing clear pre-cum once again.  There was no stopping his flow this
time around so I opened wide and swallowed him, inch after tasty inch,
until he was engulfed in my face.  My cheeks were hollowed as I manipulated
his straight tool with every cocksucking technique I'd perfected throughout
my thirty-six years.  When I started bobbing back and forth -- swallowing,
releasing, swallowing, releasing, gulping, sucking, licking, tonguing -- he
placed one stray hand on my solid shoulder and kneaded my muscular mass
with his long, calloused fingers.  I took him all the way down to the hairy
root and back out to drooling cock-head again and again, twisting my head
as I approached him from a variety of different angles, and toyed with his
dangling sac.  Glancing up at him, I observed Shawn's head tilted back,
eyes closed and tongue working his quivering lips -- fully enjoying my
heartfelt blow job.  His thighs were shaky, too, and I feared the cute stud
might lose his balance if I kept on sucking his rod the way I was.

Managing to tear my mouth away form his cock, I pumped the saliva-soaked
length, staring straight into his deep slit while I jerked my own curved
hard on.  Coaxing another wave of ball juice from those big nuts, I watched
as it swelled from his cock lips and gathered into a long string hanging
from his helmet.  Diving in, I took the falling pre-cum drop onto my tongue
and covered his dick head with my wet lips again -- hungry for more tastes
of his man cream.  Of all the guy's I'd ever coveted in my entire life,
Shawny was the one I'd wanted most and now that I finally had him I
intended to make it an affair to remember forever and ever.  Beads of sweat
soaked his hair as I speeded up the pleasure dial, jouncing up and down on
his strained cock with renewed fervor.  I was holding him around the backs
of his hairy thighs now while my own cock was excitedly bobbing up and down
with a slutty will of its own.  All kinds of sloppy, slurping sounds were
coming from my mouth and drool freely leaked from the corners.  I was cock
crazed and recklessly anxious to swallow his entire load!

Mythological speaking, it was as though I'd sucked the strength right out
of Samson because all of a sudden Shawny's legs buckled and he fell back
onto the sofa.  Instinctively, he grabbed hold of his big man dick and
continued jerking it off while he looked across at me through the widened
span of his thighs.  Watching Shawny jack off was a total fuckin' turn on
for me and I just knew I was causing one hell of a pre-cum stain on my wall
to wall carpeting.  Like some kind of love-struck pup, I crawled across
that carpet on my knees until I was right up there centered between the
spread of his legs.  With short, quick strokes I lapped at his swollen bulb
while the groom-to-be beat his engorged slab of prime natural beef.

His little ass was moving all around on the edge of my sofa, leading me to
fear that the stud was at risk of losing it fast.  Wrapping my fist around
his own, I halted him in mid-stroke.  The heavily-breathing cock tease
looked at my quizzically.

"Ever have anybody eat out your hole, man?" I asked in my deepest, most
macho voice.  "Not just lick it -- but really eat it out!  A wiggly, wet
tongue slathering around your ass lips, slipping through that tight clam
and sliding around inside of you?"

"No!  Never!" he replied huskily, then, "Awwwwwwwwwwww. sheeeeeeeeeee-it!"
as he began raising his own legs.  I took him by the ankles and lifted them
until they were bent far back.  Shawny was a quick learner; he reached
around his wide-spread thighs and took hold of himself by the back of the
knees, splaying his tight, cute butt out into the open for me.  Shawn had
some nice ass on him!  Although he appeared kind of flat in the bootie
while clothed, he actually had a sweet, pear-shaped butt.  You know, the
kind that is long and trim but flares out at the base rounding up into the
cleft -- so curved and tight.  Laying prone and spread-eagled like this,
the pink flesh of his buttocks was taut, the trail of sweat-soaked hair
parted and clinging to his skin to either side of that deep cleft -- -his
wrinkled pucker invitingly exposed.  I took one long swipe up his shit
ditch and the stud automatically shivered.  Planting my hands on his
tightened glutes, I went to town licking the sweaty muskiness of his tasty
trench, the tip of my tongue lingering every now and then on the wrinkled
folds of his manhole.

Shawny was moaning and groaning and making all kinds of sex sounds, leading
me to believe no one had ever sampled his candy box before.  Proceeding to
literally wash out his nicely deep ditch, I wallowed in the tart taste of
his raunchy male sweat, fermenting all day in the seat of his pants in the
unbearably hot warehouse.  Zeroing in on his pursed pucker, I teased the
hot hole with my tickling tongue and, when I felt him push against me,
slipped through those tender petals.  Wriggling my mouth muscle between his
grasping ass lips, I slithered far past his tight sphincter and ate him
from the inside out.

I must have entertained myself chowing down on virgin man hole for a good
half an hour, listening to his ewwww's and arrrrgggghhhh's and feeling him
thrashing around on the sofa while his ass got eaten out.  Pre-cum was
pouring from his lustily beating cock, leaking down the shaft, alongside
his tightened ball bag and oozing through his balls-to-ass corridor,
providing me with a tasty tongue lube.  And I could have gone on tonguing
his ass all night if he hadn't uttered those unexpected words.

Bucking up against my face, effectively impaling himself on my stabbing
tongue, the overheated hunk roared, "FUCK ME, MAXEY!  I WANT YOU TO FUCK MY
ASS!!!  WANT TO FEEL YOUR FAT DICK WAY UP THERE INSIDE ME!!!!!"

Damned if I was going to question his decision.  Actually I'd kind of seen
this thing played out in an entirely different way -- with me climbing up
there in his lap and bouncing up and down on HIS cock -- but this was a
whole hell of a lot better!  Straight, uncharted, tight ass -- two days
away from his wedding -- was I going to argue?  Would you?  I was up there
pressing my fat cockhead to his wet ass lips before you could say "straight
men DO!"  (Well, maybe not so straight -- remember I 'd always thought he
was suppressing.  He sure wasn't suppressing anything anymore!)  His
asshole was so wet from the long tongue lashing I'd given him, and my cock
was so slick from all my pre-cum that I slipped fairly easily into him.
Shawn let out a wild howl and his eyes practically bugged out of his head!
He grabbed handfuls of couch cushion and lurched against me,
unintentionally burying half my cock up his awesomely tight hole.  He
roared and bellowed, and I thrust -- embedding my entire sex tool inside of
him.  He was wailing like a stuck pig but he wasn't making a move to stop
me, so I proceeded to royally fuck him.

My cock plunged in and out of his straight chute, banging the living
daylights out of him.  If Shawn had expected a slow, comfortable screw he
was sadly mistaken.  I was taking him on the ride of his life, one he'd
always remember -- would most surely remember up there at the altar with a
sore asshole.  He was food for the eyes as well as the cock, thrashing his
head from side to side, gnashing his teeth together and intermittently
shouting, "MOTHERFUCKER! FUCK THAT ASS!!! FUCK IT HARDER!!!!
FFFFFFUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!"

I was coursing over his prostate and slamming well up into his guts and the
guy was loving every moment of it!  Rivulets of perspiration brought on by
my heated exertions rained down on him, collecting with his own abundant
sweat.  Shawn's hair was a soaked mess and, collectively we were drenching
my sofa with man sweat.

My full length relentlessly plowed his sweet cherry.  Each time my balls
smacked against his pretty butt, I released a heavy grunt of my own.  It
was hard to believe I actually had my dick buried all the way up inside
Shawn, the young man I'd watched mature from the age of sixteen.  They say
good things come to the man who patiently waits, and sure enough I was
sowing the seeds of my diligence.

His shit chute was so fucking tight and I was so fucking horny that I lost
all control when he started hammering my chest with his fists and yanking
on my man tits.  I plunged deep into his guts and exploded inside him.
Shawn's face took on an incredulous look when he realized I was splashing
my cum load against the steamy walls of his colon.  I blew off at least
seven massive loads until my fat dick was swimming in a sea of my own jizz
within his rectal cavity. Shawn was jack-hammering his angry cock, his fist
flying up and down the slick, engorged shaft.  I could feel his body
tightening and knew he was real close.  Yanking my dick from his hole, I
dropped to my knees and stuffed my face with his hot, throbbing cock.
Shawn dug his hands in my hair, as if I needed any help going down on him.
The young stud was in a frenzy, his tight muscles visibly flexing and his
entire body thrashing about as his heavy breathing grew more frantic.  With
a heart-felt squeal, he thrust his narrow hips up against me, fucking my
mouth furiously.  I thought the guy would surely rocket through my ceiling,
so intense was the force of his orgasm.  He exploded like an uncapped oil
strike into my greedy gullet, shooting massive blasts of hot semen down my
throat.  I sucked and sucked, running my tongue all over his pulsating rod,
draining his balls of every last drop of tasty Shawn-juice.

I was still licking and sucking on his joint long after the sexy stud had
been totally spent; my hungry eyes appreciative of the after-sex aura that
emanated from the hunk.  A devil-may-care smile spread across his face as
he watched me clean up his still-hard prick.

"You crazy cocksucker, you," he laughed.

Giving him a wink, I took my mouth off his cock and replied, "You're
welcome, buddy.  Anytime."

Shawny smiled widely again and then peeled his perspiration-soaked body off
the sofa.  Gathering up his clothes strewn about the room, Shawn dressed
while I sat back and watched him cover up that long, lanky body --
committing all of him to memory.  When he'd finished he came over to me and
extended his hand, assisting me off the floor.  Looking me deeply in the
eyes for a moment, he took me into his arms and held me in a strong, manly
embrace while he whispered hotly into my ear, "That was better than I ever
fuckin' thought it would be."

I was a little surprised when he asked me to walk him out to his truck, but
I complied.  My hands were on the ledge of his open window as Shawn slipped
his key into the ignition and started the engine.  Leaning back in the seat
with one hand on the wheel he groped his crotch and looked at me with that
shit-eating grin etched across his handsome face.  With mischievously
twinkling eyes, he teased, "I've got something for you, big guy."

I smiled crookedly, wanting to reach out right there in the parking lot and
handle his piece.  "Come back inside."

He grinned even wider and then leaned across to fish something out of the
glove compartment.  Handing me the pale lavendar envelope, the sexy devil
drawled, "Hope you're not doing anything Saturday night."

It was my invitation to his wedding!

"Wanted to personally deliver this one myself," he went on.  "Don't worry.
I forged your acceptance already."

This time I was the one beaming from ear to ear.  The tease had gotten me
once again.