Date: Thu, 28 Mar 2002 17:31:29 -0500
From: Steve Griffin <knack6@hotmail.com>
Subject: Oakdale Lust

As the World Turns belongs to CBS and Procter & Gamble. They own all
profits, I own none. I just want to know whether this story is archived or
distributed. All characters are over the age of consent, and you should be
too.

This is based on the CBS soap As the World Turns, which has many hot men.
I'd enjoy writing more chapters if the fans here give me some ideas on who
they may want to see next, not to mention feedback on this chapter.

--

Propped up on the bed with his feet crossed, Simon flicked through the pages
of a design magazine. Katie was out, not that she ever had much to say to
him when she did come home. Her job at the station was her only passion.
Work, work, work. And this was the sheila he couldn't get off his back for
over a year. Apparently, all she wanted was the prize, and she'd thrown him
in the corner along with all her other old toys when she finally won him.

He was attractive. Hell, he was a god. Well over 6 foot, close-cropped
brown-black hair, piercing dark eyes, a GQ face, a muscular body that was
barely contained by his shirts and tight blue jeans. And a charming
Australian accent to boot. Any man or woman's fantasy. Except Katie's.

Throwing the magazine on the floor, he was about to take a nap when the door
made a knocking sound.

Simon knew he should be careful, Oakdale had been weirder than usual lately,
but he'd almost welcome a diversion at this point. He opened the door,
groaning at the sight before him.

"Oh bloody hell."

"Nice to see you too! Hey shrimp, where's the Barbie?"

Henry Coleman strode into the suite, smirking and strident, which was his
normal expression when he wasn't cowering in fear. He was a mate of Katie's
that she claimed she hated but couldn't tear herself away from until last
summer, when Simon rescued her from a desert island and they left the creep
behind. Now he was back, still with the dark blonde hair and anchorman
profile, only not as pudgy now.

Simon looked the man over in his blue tailored suit, a big C stamped on the
royal blue ascot draped around his neck. Simon couldn't help whistling.

"What bank did you rob?"

Henry turned with a model-like flourish and flashed dazzling pearly whites
at him.

"The bank of Celia Frasier's Diamonds-R-Us. Millions and millions, to be
exact. Wanna see? I know you're probably better at visuals than all these
big words."

Henry greedily pulled out a huge wad of bills, flicking through the money
before pulling out a Benjamin Franklin.

"That's for NOT saving me from the island."

Grinning, he placed the bill back in his pocket.

Simon had worked a long time in tracking down that diamond, finding the
owner, then trying charm Lily Snyder into helping him, only to find himself
and Lily kidnapped by nutty Celia. Celia trapped him and Lily on a desert
island, only to be trapped herself soon after. When attempting to escape
from them in a raft, the raft collapsed and she and the diamond sank to the
ocean floor. This same desert island Katie dragged Henry to a year later.

"Y-You took my family's diamond? MY diamond?"

Enraged, Simon grabbed Henry by the collar of his shirt, planning to
rearrange his face and maybe his wallet. As always, Henry began snivelling
and jerking around.

"Now, now, I can have you arrested and buy the judge who will send you to
jail. And you're way too pretty to go to jail, so put me down before my
clothes wrinkle."

A trip to prison was the last thing Simon needed. He didn't need sex that
badly. Roughly, he dropped Henry onto the bed.

Henry readjusted himself, and Simon couldn't help noticing how he sat with
his legs spread. Simon suddenly had an idea, a plan to ease his horniness
and put this punk in his place.

"Well, since dear Katherine's touring the dale of oak and you've reached
your raging hulk quote for today, I think I'll go back to my jet and fly
away. See ya."

As Henry began to stand up, Simon towered over him, placing a firm hand on
his shoulder, trying to conjure an air of oblivousness.

"Since you've got the fashion plate thing going on, could you help me decide
something?"

Uneasily, Henry nodded.

Simon smiled his most glacier-melting smile at Henry and clasped the bottom
of his black shirt, pulling it over his head. An even broader grin on his
face as he watched Henry's surprised expression, Simon unbuckled his jeans,
slowly lowering the zipper and kicking them off his feet. Wearing only tight
red briefs, he stood only a few feet away from an agog Henry.

"Katie bought me a pack of these for my birthday, but I'm not sure how they
fit."

Simon teasingly ran his hands over his arms and pecs, down his six-pack...

"Are they too tight? Do they ride up?"

...hands down his muscular thighs...

"What about in the back?"

Simon turned around, his hard ass only inches away from Henry's nose.

Henry didn't even bother to pretend he wasn't staring. The best he could do
was not drool.

"Look fine to me. I need to go now."

Katie-did would kill him if he poached on her territory. But when he tried
to leave a second time, Simon pushed him back on the bed, scratching at his
quarter-sized nipples as he kept giving Henry that unsettling smile.

"Alright. Just one more pair, then I'll be glad to kick you out."

Simon grabbed a pair of briefs from his drawer and headed to the bathroom.

"Be back in a minute!"

As he changed, he left the door open enough for Henry to see into the
bathroom mirror as he lowered his underwear. No matter how many times Henry
told himself he had to get out of Dodge, he couldn't stop leering at Simon's
pale bubble butt in the mirror.

Simon returned to the room, clad in blue briefs this time. Casually, he
strolled toward Henry, Henry imagining that big cock flopping freely. Henry
put himself somewhere in the grey area on the sexuality score card, but he'd
always had a big crush on Simon Frasier that offset his anger at how
perpetually clueless, arrogant and smug the Ausshole was. Now Simon was
offering himself up, and Henry was having a damn hard time not giving in.

Simon walked to the edge of bed, absentmindedly rubbing his belly and
tracing an index finger down his clothed shaft.

Time to go, Henry thought to himself.

Henry tried to crawl off onto the floor, only to feel Simon joining him on
the bed, closing the distance between them by walking on his knees. A few
seconds later, Simon reached him, laying him flat on his back as he pointed
his ample crotch directly above Henry's pouty lips. He didn't bother hiding
his own smirk now that he had the upper hand.

"I wore these cause of my blue balls. Don't think that'll be a problem much
longer, will it mate?"

Simon rubbed the lump over Henry's mouth repeatedly, every swipe weakening
Henry's resolve further. His own prick was rapidly hardening, even as the
telltale signs of precum began seeping through Simon's briefs.

Reaching behind him, Simon snaked a hand into Henry's pants, tearing them
open and roughly stroking his erection. Groaning in defeat at the fourth or
fifth angry squeeze, Henry extended his tongue, swiping at the penis head.
As saliva joined man-juice in soaking Simon's briefs, Henry opened his mouth
further, suckling the mushroom crown into his mouth, cotton taste only
enhancing the senations.

Simon turned to straddle Henry, dipping his head down to take Henry's big
balls in his mouth, each and then both at the same time. Henry grunted
around the missile bumping against his throat, lifting Simon's hips long
enough to slip the briefs off of him. Henry redoubled his efforts at sucking
Simon's large cock, sweaty balls stinging at his nostrils as he inhaled the
deep scent of the testicles.

As Henry took in the last of Simon's hard 8 and 1/2 inches, Simon traced his
finger around Henry's dark tunnel, teasing the puckering hole as his
circular finger motions matched his circular tongue swipes at Henry's head.
Henry's dick was several inches smaller than Simon's, so years of practice
enabled Simon to suck him to the root quickly.

Henry's entire body jerked at the deep-throating, thrusting his hips up to
bruise the insides of Simon's mouth cheeks. His manicured hands explored
Simon's broad back, clawing at the tanned skin as he attacked a long vein
running up the underside of Simon's engorged girth. Most of his man-to-man
encounters had involved getting ahead in his career - usually by giving head
- making this tryst with an old foe even more rare and intoxicating. Simon
knew what to do with his mouth and where to put his fingers, digits that
were busy kneading Henry's nuts and pushing in and out of his anus.

Lost in the pleasure of masculine musk and raw sex, Simon managed to keep
his erection for quite a while. Then he felt a sharp tug on his balls,
fingernails scraping up and down the perineum between his egg-sized
babymakers and ass, and he had to give in. Echoing onto the meat in his
mouth, Simon clamped his powerful thighs against Henry's ears, making him
drink every last drop. His knees buckling, Henry came soon after, planting
his seed in Simon's sex-starved throat.

They quickly detached, Henry gathering his clothes as Simon stood by the
bed, naked and unashamed, tugging on his spent penis.

"Next time you drop by here, I'm gonna split your arse in two."

Henry rolled his eyes.

"Is that a promise?"

Simon nodded, hands across his waist. Henry couldn't help staring at the
stream of cum dripping from Simon's cock onto the carpet.

"I guess God did grant you one gift, huh pretty boy?"

Flicking Simon's organ with his index finger, Henry finished dressing. Katie
could return any second, but Simon didn't seem to care. Pulling up his pants
and boxers, Henry prepared to leave. But what about...

"Looking for this?"

The ascot was bunched in Simon's left fist. Clicking his tongue, Henry held
out his hand.

"Now, Frasier, I know you want to keep a token of my affection, but..."

Laughing, Simon shook his head in disbelief a few times as he slowly ran
drew the expensive material up and down his slick, oozing penis head a few
times. He then held the fabric out.

"Y'know, that cost..."

As Henry reached out, Simon yanked the ascot away, smirking.

"Oh, I forgot my goodbye gift."

Turning around, Simon slid the ascot in the tight crevice between his
cheeks, making sure the one-of-a-kind clothing was drenched by the sweat and
musk of his one-of-a-kind, dimpled rear end.

Throwing the garmet at Henry, he opened the door, tossing Henry out as Henry
was too shocked to do more than sputter.

A final smirk at Henry.

"Bye. I won't tell Katie you dropped in."

SLAM.

Henry rolled his eyes again, ready for the limo that would take him to the
airport for Rio, Paris, anywhere.

"That stupid neanderthal, that Russell Crowe's even dumber brother, this
cost me thousands..."

Henry glanced down at the ruined ascot as he began walking to the elevator.
He should throw it away, he knew that. But what would one little indulgence
hurt...

Quickly, he pressed the silk against his nose, inhaling every dirty flavor
of Simon Frasier's man-scent. And the smell only reminded Henry of the many
fantasies running through his mind after today. Running right to his groin.

"Thank God my limo has tinted glass." He drawled to himself as the elevator
doors shut.