Date: Sun, 9 Oct 2005 08:58:03 -0700 (PDT)
From: Keith <sag85kt@yahoo.com>
Subject: Maxxed Out

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Days Of Our Lives. They
are all trademark and property of Corday Productions, Inc.  and NBC
Daytime. Furthermore, I do not declare the sexuality of the characters I
choose to write for, nor the actors or actresses that portray them. I am in
no way affiliated with the Days Of Our Lives cast or crew, past or present,
and more than likely, future.

Max Brady, the hottest rising star of NASCAR, was now lying on a cot in
Jack and Jennifer Devereaux's apartment above the garage of their humble
home. The position was a seductive one to many: on his back, one leg
completely flat and hanging off the bed slightly, the other, knee-bent and
leg arched at the bent, slightly, his hands behind his head, putting his
impressive triceps on display. He wore a black, one-size-too-small t-shirt
and a pair of faded blue jeans that just wouldn't quit around his package
and his ass, but weren't tight at the legs or ankles. His eyes were closed
and he looked like an angel. Looks can be deceiving.

For the past month, he'd been trying to get into Chelsea Benson's pants. He
didn't get it. In the past he'd never had to try so hard to get a girl on
her knees, sucking his seven-inch dong and eating his cum and submitting to
his ever need in every way. This girl was a virgin. That wasn't exactly a
first for Max. He'd popped plenty of cherry. She said she was saving
herself for the man of her dreams.  What a laugh! He felt for the poor
kid. She was young and so very naïve. Maybe he just needed to push a little
harder. He licked his lips, opened his eyes and hurled himself off of the
bed.

Chelsea was living with her friend, Billie Reed, and that asshole, Patrick
Lockhart.  What was it with that guy? He was acting like Chelsea's big,
strong, chivalrous hero.  Was he being naughty, wanting Chelsea's hot bod
all for himself, or something? Chivalry was dead a long time ago, Max
thought to himself. Deciding to go over to Chelsea's new digs to see if he
couldn't convince her to at least give him another blowjob, which she
wasn't untalented at, he remembered with a grin, if not more. Max Brady got
what he wanted and he was a self-proclaimed sex addict, so that's almost
always what he wanted. He was more than the average lady killer, too. He'd
had a few mates blow him a good one and he'd fucked a man hole from time to
time. Men sure knew what they were doing more than girls, but that was to
be expected. It didn't occur to him that he might be bi.

Ringing the doorbell, there was answer. He checked the door and smirked,
"Well, well, well. Someone's too trusting," he thought, walking inside, as
the door had not been locked.  Upstairs, in the distance, he could hear the
shower. Someone was home. He wondered if it wasn't Chelsea. Billie's car
was gone from the driveway and Patrick didn't have one, so he just assumed
they were out.
 Chelsea must be soaping up those beauties nicely, he thought, tiptoeing up
the stairs. The bathroom the shower could be heard from was connected to
Chelsea's room (and Patrick's which Max failed to realize in his rampantly
horny state).

His fingers wrapped around the knob and with one swift move, he was
inside. The steam was like nothing else and the tent in his pants was
incredible. There was no way Chelsea would say no to him naked and wet, he
thought. He began to strip, noticing that there were no clothes on the
floor, already. She must have stripped in her room.  Lifting the black
shirt up over his head, his pecs flexed up and he tossed it on the
floor. Dropping his bangs, his belt made a little jingle and he froze. The
water didn't stop and the shower's occupant didn't seem to notice. Kicking
them aside, silently, he was left in a pair of tight, gray Calvin Klein
boxer briefs and
 man did they give him a nice tent. Once they were removed, he rubbed his
hands together, prepared to jump in. Before he did, he locked the bathroom
door from both ends, so they wouldn't have any interruptions.  With a
smirk, he hopped in, barely able to see in all the steam. He came up behind
Patrick, thinking it was Chelsea and placed his hands on his shoulders,
prepared to whisper seductively into her ear. The shoulders were muscular
and manly and Max froze.

"Who the hell is in my shower?" Patrick called out to no answer. Max pulled
away, backing into a corner as Patrick locked the shower doors. Patrick
turned unable to see in the steam. His monster cock had reacted to the soft
touch to his shoulders and it hindered Patrick's search. There was a game
of cat and mouse between them, as Max kept moving around the small shower
and Patrick just missed him. As Max reached the lock and began fiddling
with it, Patrick saw who it was, from behind and got down on his
knees. Max's sweet, smooth ass cheeks were right in front of his faces and
his eyes shifted as he eyed them hungrily. "You know, boy," Patrick talked
down to Max, grabbing Max by the hips and drawing the sweet ass to his
mouth. His tongue flickered out between his lips and began to slip between
Max's ass cheeks. Every muscle in Max's body became tense as Patrick teased
his bud, "It's not polite to invade another man's bathroom. There's nothing
a man likes better than his privacy, except one thing,"

Max trembled as, soon as Patrick finished speaking, he continued his
tongue-tease of Max's ass. As he spoke, he stuttered, "Wha- what-," He
couldn't even get the question past his lips, as Patrick buried his face
into Max's ass fully. The young twink called out in shock as Patrick rimmed
his ass with his muscular tongue. He closed his eyes, his mouth agape as
ecstasy took over his body. His ass began to hump back toward Patrick's
face as the studly Lockhart ate him out. Max's dick throbbed as Patrick's
tongue continually hit his g spot and he began to feel an orgasm come.
Just as he was about to explode, Patrick's tongue left his cheeks and he
stood, his dong grazing against Max's ass, "I think you know what I want,
bitch boy," He whispered.

Patrick turned Max around, "And I don't think you want to unlock that door
anymore.  Do you?" He wrapped his fingers around Max's hard member and gave
it a few strokes, "I'll take this as a yes," His hand left Max's cock and
landed on Max's shoulder, shoving him down onto his knees and slapping his
cock over Max's face, `You're gonna learn a lesson today, Max, and you're
going to remember it," Before Max could speak, his mouth had to open and
Patrick shoved his cock down Max's throat. Max nearly choked, but then his
throat relaxed as Patrick didn't move his cock, "Suck your lolly," Patrick
teased between bared teeth.

Max began to massage Patrick's balls with his fingers while he sucked the
long, Lockhart dong. He'd never had anything like it. It was addicting in a
way he couldn't explain. His other hand felt up Patrick's firm buttocks
and, feeling daring, he even slipped a digit past the cheeks. Patrick
grinned, bucking his hips in a fucking motion so his cock slipped in and
out of Max's mouth, "Look who's a real cock slut, after all. You're a
natural. Think you can take my load down that talented throat of yours?"
Max's eyes went wide in protest, but he couldn't stop sucking Patrick's
sexy cock. Patrick threw his head back as the water cascaded against his
face and down his chest and his orgasm hit filling Max's reluctant
mouth. His dick was so lodged in Max's throat that them cum had nowhere to
go but down his throat and he barely got the chance to enjoy Patrick's
taste. Patrick's cock grew limp and slipped out of Max's mouth. Max held it
in his hand and gave it two finally strokes his mouth agape and obviously
wanting more.

"Okay, Max, you got what you wanted. You got laid. Why don't you go on home
and think twice about seducing Chelsea?" Patrick barked, turning off the
water and exiting the shower. Max was on his hands and knees and wanted
more. He got up and scurried after Patrick, his cock still hard, "Where do
you get off saying I got what I wanted? As far as I can tell, my cock is
still begging for a hot ass or mouth,"

"What, no pussy?" Patrick challenged, "I never coined you a closet case,
Mr. NASCAR.  You want your cock to have some relief?  Why don't you depend
on your right hand for now and maybe we'll see what happens?"

"I'm not leaving until I get off...," Max trailed off and Patrick smirked,
"Who said anything about you leaving?" Max looked at him strangely and
Patrick unlocked the door to his room, while Max gathered his clothes, "No,
no, no. Leave those here. You don't need them," Max followed Patrick
curiously, watching his ass cheeks rise and fall as Lockhart walked into
his bedroom. Max shoved him onto the bed, taking Patrick by surprise.
Patrick wasn't easily dominated. As Max began to straddle his ass, he
turned the tables, doing just what Max had planned to do to him and given
Max's left ass cheek a hearty slap. Max cried out and Patrick grinned
mischievously. He pinned him to the bed and whispered into his ear in
malicious seduction, "You're going to lie on this bed and stroke your
magnificent cock for me and then you're going clean up all of your boy
juice after you shoot all over your twink chest and my bed sheets,"