Date: Tue, 13 Nov 2001 14:58:32 -0800
From: auto1264@hushmail.com
Subject: Silas-Ethan

The story is mine, but Silas, Ethan, and Survivor aren't. This certainly
isn't based on their real lives, just two hot guys and a fantasy I wanted
to write. I'm pretty sure that, given the conditions the Survivor shows are
maintained under, they wouldn't have the stamina to do much more than make
out, but again, it's a fantasy.

Any comments or constructive criticisms are welcome. Don't read if you're
under 18 or the age of majority in your area.

@@

Silas sighed to himself as he continued the night watch. Boran
sucked. Samburu camp never had any animals to worry about. Samburu had
everything.

Like Brandon.

Carrying such a randy and ready rod between his legs, Silas only had to
shut his eyes to remember those crystal eyes flashing up at him; that warm,
wet mouth feasting on him. A walk to the water hole was the signal, with
Brandon sashaying by his side until they were far enough from camp. Silas
remembered the dry desert heat whipping across his sculpted, nude globes,
shorts bunched around his white socks, feminine fingers knitting into the
hairs of his crack as stubble burnt his balls, and that bottomless pit,
that deep throat slobbering over every inch of his 8 hard inches until he
bit back a yell loud enough to scare the lions into kitty cats. Brandon
finished up by licking the glistening pole base to slit, circling the
sensitive mushroom head until Silas sunk to his knees, sandy knees as his
mouth met Brandon's in a sloppy semen kiss.

Silas rubbed the thick package bunched in his right thigh, shifting on the
log. So horny, but screwed in the worst way possible. He'd switched tribes
with the two people who hated him the most. If Boran lost immunity tomorrow
those sore losers would do their best to vote him out.

"I should sleep right here, let the lions have 'em. Even they'd spit Frank
out. Bet even Brandon would."

He chuckled to himself, hand on his chin. More time passed, his fingers
absently rubbing his throbbing, trapped prick, until a hand squeezed his
shoulder.

"Huh?"

"Came to help you watch."

Ethan's voice was soothing in this deadly dull African night. Silas patted
the log, scooting his ample buttocks a seat over.

"Damn boy, you must be psychic."

Ethan stared into the fire, and let out a sigh of his own.

"It gets lonely out here, especially at night."

With the fire flicking over his features, Ethan's beauty just about made
Silas swoon. Most men weren't beautiful, but Ethan...

Both men were handsome, but Silas had a set face, cold and bitter when
betrayed. Hooded brown eyes to contrast his floppy brown curls, big,
milk-ad grin and almost-dimples. Ethan's features were more innocent, a boy
hiding his youth behind a half-beard. Ethan had his own brown curls, tight,
but wild too. The face of a man straight out of the Bible, with a body for
sinning. Soccer player. The thought of his last soccer player smacked a
grin on Silas's face and his hand onto Ethan's toned shoulder.

"Buddy, I know what you mean. Got a girl back home?"

Ethan threw a branch onto the fire, a fast head-shake as an answer.

"That sucks man. Don't know how you work off the energy. I'd go fuckin'
crazy."

Ethan shrugged, Silas using the shrug as the chance to move his hand to the
nape of the neck.

"Guess that's what sports are for."

Ethan nodded, smiling wide now.

"Yeah. I still play some ball when I got time, played football in high
school. Nothing better in the world."

Silas leaned closer, massaging Ethan's neck, fingers sliding in and out of
the hair caressing the neckline. Ethan tilted his head back, grunting.

"Thanks Silas, feels good."

"Really? Well it's nice to be good at something."

Both of his large hands gripped Ethan now, one on each side, Silas kneeling
on the ground behind the log.

"Are you...ngh...kidding? You WERE that reward challenge today."

Silas had to grin, knowing someone else had faith in him.

"Thanks buddy. I just kept thinking about being quarterback, being the key
point of the team. Of course this ain't no football field."

Silas was as close as he could manage, chin scraped against Ethan's shirt,
lips pressed at his right ear, each word a kiss.

"Or soccer field."

Those three especially.

"I used to strut into that locker room, pull off my pads, my jersey,
everything, go into that shower so hard I thought they were gonna make a
trophy outta my dick. I don't care how sexy a woman is, how much she
does...nothing's better than victory, than that adrenaline pumping you
until you have to pump. Right?"

"Mmm-hmm."

Silas moved his hands downward, sliding along Ethan's smooth, leanly
muscled arms and under his shirt sleeves. Ethan never moved his head,
frozen in confusion and fear of his own reaction. Silas saw that reaction
between his sleek legs, and the thought of that bulge in soccer shorts made
him drool through his briefs.

"You won the big game, the state championship or whatever. Flowing booze,
happiest day ever, you got the power to do anything you want. You see all
these cocks, so big, some dripping from the shower, others sweaty and
tearin' outta jock straps. You don't know why, but you want those
cocks. The connection. That empty feeling you carry around every time you
step in the locker room."

Silas kissed the back of his neck, hands circling his waist. Ethan raised
his arms on his own, Silas yanking off the shirt and his own shirt too.

"And they stare at you, at your legs, your back, but always your ass. You
know what they want...and what you want. So, you let 'em. What's the harm?
It doesn't hurt after the first time."

Their warm, sweat-slick bodies joined, back against chest, Silas's nubs
hardening and straining as he reached around to fluff the mound of soft
hair between Ethan's button nipples.

"Pushed against that bench, water from their naked bodies dripping down
your spine, so caught up in the anticipation you barely hear the cheers
from those 3 or 4 guys who are gonna dump their cum inside you. The
licks..."

Silas licked across the bare shoulder blades, right hand sliding back and
forth Ethan's engorged, clothed shaft, left hand plucking dark brown
nipples.

"...keep on, don't stop, lower and lower, until..."

Ethan whimpered as Silas slid a saliva path down his backbone, stopping at
the base of his spine. Silas' hands grabbed onto the loose brown shorts
restraining his prey, Ethan frantically whispering and holding onto the
waistband for dear life.

"Clarence, or somebody...holy shit what if Teresa or Kim see this? Silas!"

With a struggle, Silas pulled them down, forcefully yanking Ethan off the
log, into a standing position.

"Boxers, huh?"

The cum-ruined underwear went tumbling down his legs, Silas running a
finger across the thin lips in front of him, stroking Ethan's raging 7 and
a half inches, grabbing Ethan's own hands to run down his timid
body. Continuing to stand directly behind him, Silas shook his head in
wonder at the sight of that delicately muscled back, strong legs, sexy
ankles, supple buttocks.

Ethan looked around the camp, panicky, trying to ignore the fingers in his
mouth, the hand slowly jerking his near-full tumescence. Even he couldn't
ignore the tongue sliding between his tight cheeks. He let out a whimper,
the first real whimper ever in his life, at the stuttering tongue burrowing
inside his most private area. His hands slid to his cock, fingering his
balls and circling Silas's jerking hand.

Ethan imagined the entire tribe walking into this, seeing him as a
fucktoy. He imagined Clarence, all muscle, dark as night, sneaking up on
them, impaling him, making him beg for mercy. Jeff Probst, encased in his
tight khaki, stripping, joining them. He imagined the camera crew taping
this all around them, fiddling with their zippers, stroking themselves,
exploding on the sand and soil below them. All the viewers at home possibly
watching someday, feeling that sloppy mouth planted on his hole, sucking
him and digging into him.

Stretched out to full, agonizing hardness, he stroked the familiar veins
and stretched skin furiously, panting and moaning, close to orgasm when the
bliss ended.

Before he could protest, he was turned around, planted onto a blanket,
Silas on top of him unzipping and shimmying out of his shorts. Ethan smiled
when he saw the red penis tip. Red for him, screaming to be inside him. He
didn't give a fuck if the entire Masai tribe were watching.

"Like what you see? I'm gonna fill you up, make you beg me."

Silas ran his fingernails down the insides of Ethan's thighs, thumb dipping
into both their leaking slits to coat himself. Ethan made a move for his
own bobbing shaft, only to have his hands grabbed, held tightly above his
head.

A sharp intake of air filled his lungs when the first meters of meat
settled in, his lanky legs in Silas's lap, heels of his feet impatiently
scratching against the deep crack behind them.

Silas slid out, juices coating his piston, thrumming back in with a muted
thud, Ethan grunting as he felt the full 8 inches possessing him. The sand
clawed at his bare, rutting back, hands held together above his head,
intertwined with the other pair of hands, that obscene Silas smile all he
could see. He held onto the thick waist as strongly as he could, feeling
Silas insistently, thoroughly pivoting into him. Silas's tree trunk legs
stuck to the backs of Ethan's knees, Ethan's curved dick smearing across
his lean torso and the washboard abs pounding into him, feet bouncing
against that firm ass, a face with hair falling in it's chestnut eyes
enveloping him in a deep, wet kiss.

Ethan returned the kiss with subtle force, tilting his head upward to suck
on that tongue dipped in his own ass. That should have repulsed him, but he
moaned, the moan echoing into the conjoined mouth as his insides were
plowed out.

Silas broke off the kiss, as both men felt a tremor, an electric twinge
running through their naked, weary bodies. Ethan smelled himself, his
stench, looked on in disbelief as Silas's head dipped down, suckled an
armpit.

Nature took him over, primal instincts driving him on that massive pole
over and over until he ejaculated. Small spurts at first, then large
amounts, coating his own body, shooting into his opened mouth, onto the
massive chest and arms of the man so much a part of him now. All through
the battering Ethan's moans were slight, subdued, as laid-back as he
himself was.

Silas felt the familiar clamping, that tight crevice slamming shut, and
sprayed white torrents inside Ethan's tight soccer player butt. He hoped
the others were asleep, or thought they heard animals, as he screamed and
moaned loud enough for both himself and the smiling depository below him.

Putting a weak smile on his tired face, he collapsed, tingling from the
fingertips rubbing semen into his pecs.

A tentative pair of lips brushed against his cheek, whispering in his ear.

"We have to get up."

Silas cleared the residual cobwebs from his head, standing up, body still
ready for more at the sight of Ethan's nude body.

"...Yeah."

He extended his hand, Ethan's smaller hand joining his as he stood
up. Ethan reached for the canteen, watering his fluid-covered body
down. Silas grinned, for the last time that evening. It caused Ethan to
smile in return.

"What is it Silas?"

"I just found the only thing harder to make than an alliance."

"What?"

Silas dipped his hand into the water, watching Ethan shiver as he lazily
ran his fingers down his sore asshole.

"A fuck buddy."