Date: Sun, 21 Feb 2016 13:37:14 +0000 (UTC)
From: Jon Royale <jon_royale@yahoo.com>
Subject: Young & Restless Men 01

YOUNG & RESTLESS MEN 01
by Jon Royale
February 2016


This story is a "tweaked" version of the original, posted here in March
2000, depicting what might have happened on our favorite daytime drama if
graphic homoeroticism were permitted.  It was this author's second attempt
at erotic writing.  Over the past sixteen years, with multiple stories
posted both here and elsewhere, JRoyale believes he has improved his craft
and desired to "clean up" some mis-steps in this debut of this series.  The
characters depicted herein are owned by CPT Holdings; the images portrayed
in no way imply anything about the sexual orientation of the actors who
portray them.  Copyright is retained by the author.



The overpowering aroma of musky incense lifted Brad Carlton from the depths
of unconsciousness.  It was a battle to force his heavy eye lids open, but
finally the long dark lashes parted and Brad found himself looking up into
the dull light of a bare bulb dangling from the shadowed ceiling.  He
blinked heavily and, attempting to shake off the grogginess, rolled his
head slowly from side to side.  It was then he noticed the barrenness of
the small, darkened cubicle he occupied.  The walls of the room appeared to
be made of solid steel and there were no windows.  Managing to lift his
head, Brad peered ahead through the semi-darkness and was stunned to see
long vertical bars separating this room from an outer chamber from which
the intoxicating incense emanated.  In each corner of the tiny room,
mounted high up by the ceiling and directed down at him, were surveillance
cameras.  In total, the place resembled an old wartime army bunker which
had been transformed into a cell---and he was the prisoner!

Attempting to move his aching arms, Brad was stunned to realize that his
wrists were restrained near the sides of his head.  With his startled
movement came a swinging sensation, as though he were floating in air! As
his head continued to clear, Brad could see he was ensconced in some weird
contraption attached to the beams above him by lengths of thick chain.  It
resembled a hammock----only different.

A cool draft tickled his nether regions and Brad became aware that he'd
been stripped of his clothes..  Looking down passed rising pecs, rippled
abdominals and flaccid penis, Brad saw he was attached to this---this
sling----not only by his arms, but also his lower body.  His muscular
thighs were stretched wide apart on each side by leather stirrups.  In
fact, the entire device was made of black leather and chains.  And here he
lay, naked, helpless and trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Bradley's confused mind rapidly reviewed events of the past few months. He
had returned to Genoa City formulating an unlikely alliance with Jack
Abbott to overtake powerhouse Newman Enterprises.  Their plan was
successful until the presumed-dead Victor Newman returned to town.  All
hell had broken loose.  Newman reclaimed his company and Brad managed to
maneuver a deal which kept him under the Newman umbrella until his recent
resignation.  And then there was his affair with Newman's lonely neglected
wife.  Newman.  Newman.  Victor Newman!

Yes, that was it!  A summons from the wealthy and powerful Victor Newman
had brought Bradley out to the Newman ranch.  He insisted that Brad join
him in a glass of exotic-tasting wine as he played one of his verbal
cat-and-mouse games.  Brad recalled thinking how curious Nikki's absence
was just before an overwhelming uncomfortable flush enveloped his long,
lean body.  Loosening his tie, Brad suddenly found it difficult to
swallow. Victor's voice sounded as though it were coming from a long
hollowed tunnel.  And then he was losing consciousness...

The bastard had drugged him!  It had been a cleverly calculated plan by the
vindictive Victor to lure Brad to the ranch and submit him to some new
twisted humiliation!  Brad cursed himself for having fallen into the trap.
He should have kept his distance from the man, just as everyone had
suggested, when Victor learned of his torrid affair with Mrs. Newman.
Confrontation with Victor had become a game of one-upmanship over the
years. And now Victor was playing the ultimate game of revenge: drugging
his nemesis, stripping him bare, and tying him up in a makeshift prison.
Probably watching through those cameras at this very moment. The warped
tycoon must have finally gone over the edge!

The deafening silence was broken as a bolt was thrown back in a heavy door
at the end of the hallway.  The door creaked purposefully open, then
closed, and the sound of heavy footsteps approached.  Forcing his head up,
Brad looked between his spread, muscular thighs as Victor Newman came
slowly into view. The insufficient light bulb cast eerie shadows across the
weathered face of Newman, whose coal black eyes bore into the naked body
dangling before him.

"Newman, you bastard!"  Brad shouted.  "Untie me NOW!"

There was only silence from the other man as Newman continued to stare
through the thick bars, observing his prey and calculatin his next move.

The muscles in Brad's arms flexed as he shook the chains binding him,
causing the leather hammock to rock violently.  "Do you hear me, Newman?
Get me out of this thing!"

Victor's head tilted backward slightly in a gesture of superiority as he
slowly and evenly responded, "I think I like you right where you are,
Bradley Carlton."

"Have you gone crazy?"  Brad shrieked.  "This is
abduction... imprisonment...."

"Humiliation?"  Victor continued for him.  "Yes, I think humiliation is in
order here.  Perhaps a humiliation to equal the one you bestowed upon me
when you stole my wife."

"I didn't steal your wife," Brad spat back.  "You neglected and deserted
your wife.  I was there to offer her comfort, support and love."

Victor's anger boiled, causing his German accent to become more pronounced.
"You filled her mind with all sorts of notions!  You stripped me of my
dignity!  You belittled me to the woman I love!  You tested my masculinity!
And now Bradley, old boy, it is my opportunity to return that favor."

A key turned in the lock of the rusty doorway and suddenly Victor was
inside the cubicle, a few feet from the imprisoned man.  Their eyes
met---Victor's cruel and vengeful; Brad's angry and challenging.  His
nostrils flared wildly and his strong naked chest heaved as reinforced
adrenalin coursed through his body.  Newman would not win this time; he
would not let him.

Victor openly took stock of his victim.  Bradley was, indeed, a handsome
mid-thirties buck with dark, Mediterranean looks.  His thick, almost black
hair was styled short on the sides and fuller on top.  Dark brows hooded
deep hazel eyes, casting interesting shadows over his high cheekbones.  As
the younger man swallowed deeply, the Adam's apple bobbed provocatively in
his throat and drew attention to the solid pectorals rising and falling
with each heaving breath.  With his arms secured backwards, bicep muscles
bulged and threatened to shatter the chains confining them. Victor noticed
the flatness of the younger man's belly, the smoothness of his tanned skin,
the fine hair that covered his strong legs, and finally his eyes focused
upon the center of Brad's masculinity.  There it was before him: the penis
which had penetrated Victor's beloved wife.  It complimented the rest of
the young stud's body.  Limp, it hung down between Bradley's spread thighs
at about six inches and appeared to have a healthy-sized girth.  Obviously
Brad Carlton spent a great deal of time in the executive gymnasium to have
sculpted his body to such perfection.  He must be the envy of every man
there.  And the ultimate conquest of many a fair maiden......the latest
being Nikki Newman.

Brad was frozen by Victor's solid gaze, his own mind wondering what was
going on inside Newman's deranged head.  The older man appeared to be
appraising him, much as he might when purchasing a new stallion for his
stables.  Brad felt terribly uncomfortable, but resolved not to let Victor
know lest he have the upper hand, and met his stare with a fierce
determination.

It was Victor who made the next move.  Reaching down to hook the hem of the
turtleneck with both thumbs, he hoisted the sweater up his torso and
overhead, exposing his chest.  Brad couldn't help but take stock of his
adversary.  Whereas Carlton had a gym-toned body, the older Victor's
musculature came from years of hard work at the ranch.  Combined with
nightly shadow-boxing sessions out in the tack room, Victor Newman sported
a hard, firm body.  Although the millionaire must be approaching sixty, he
had the physique of a forty-year-old athlete. When he was much younger Brad
had admired older men who maintained their bodies, and now a perfectly fine
specimen stood before him in the form of his worst enemy.  Brad swallowed
nervously, his rationalization becoming confused.

Reaching to his slacks, Victor unfastened the waistband, then grasped the
shiny zipper and yanked it downwards.  With both hands, he peeled the pants
from his hips and slid them from his strong thighs.  Standing erect, Victor
came nearer to his captive, easing in between the adulterous man's spread
thighs.  Brad's breath caught in his throat when he saw the weapon dangling
between Newman's legs.  No wonder the old coot had so many young wives.
The thick club hanging from the tycoon's groin had to be between eight and
nine inches long!  The bulbous head of his cock looked like an oversized
golf-ball.  Huge elephant balls drooped below his spectacular equipment,
which was nestled in a furry salt-and-pepper pubic patch.

"Now you see a real man, Bradley," Victor's deeply accented voice droned.
"Unlike your Golden Boy gymnasium-manufactured physique.  Yours is lovely
for the ladies to look at, but mine is what they desire.  You got that?"

I can certainly see your point, Bradley wanted to say.  Instead he retorted
with mock indignation, "You're an old man, Newman!  A sick old man!  Nikki
wants me----a young, vital man---not you!"

Victor cocked an eyebrow.  "You want to know what I think of your overrated
youth?  Of your narcissistic beauty?  I will show you exactly how Victor
Newman respects those things."

With that he hefted his heavy horse cock up into his hand, pointing it
directly towards Bradley's muscle-clad torso.  Brad couldn't help but
examine the thick slit in the huge head of the other man's dong.  To his
surprise, the piss-slit stretched open and a stream of hot, yellow urine
shot out to strike him square on the chest.

"What the-----" It was all me managed to say before the steady stream of
man piss shot into his mouth.  Reflexively gulping, Brad swallowed the hot
yellow liquid before pursing his lips tightly together to avoid further
intrusion.  Victor continued bathing the younger man's body in his stored
urine, watching excitedly as the piss cascaded in rivulets across the lines
of Bradley's six-pack abdominal muscles, pooling in the indentation of his
navel before draining down the sides of his tight hips.  He positioned the
angry stream to strike the cock which had entered his wife on many an
occasion.  As the hot piss slammed against Bradley's penis and trickled
down over his dangling nuts to cascade through the crack of his ass, Victor
noticed the other cock begin to dance.

Brad couldn't contain the stirring in his loins.  He was both repulsed and
exhilarated by this golden shower at the hands of Victor Newman. His
arch-enemy had reached the end of his rope and was now attempting to
humiliate Brad in the most degrading of fashions.  But these perverse
barbarian acts were having the opposite effect.  In truth, he wished for
Victor to aim his hose towards his lips once again.  This time he wouldn't
close them, but would stretch his jaws wide and become Victor's personal
urinal.  He would allow the man's hot piss to fill the cavity of his mouth
before swallowing the heavy load down into his belly.  How he longed to
feel the warmth of Victor's piss sloshing around inside him.  He would
drink from that cock until his bladder had been emptied, catching the final
tangy drops from that wide piss slit with the tip of his thirsty tongue.

But Victor's stream of piss had waned down to a thin dribble.  He snapped
the last few drops from the thick helmet of his gargantuan cock and watched
them land on Bradley's tight, wet torso.  Standing back, he observed the
result of his piss bath and was secretly satisfied that he had emptied his
bladder all over the naked young stud who had defiled his wife.  The
satisfaction of, quite literally, pissing on his worst enemy was a form of
ultimate gratification.

"YOU SONOFABITCH!"  Bradley shouted, drawing Newman from his reverie.
"YOU'RE SICK!  YOU'RE TWISTED!  I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS IF IT'S THE LAST
THING I DO!"  Brad knew he was convincing.  He was telling Victor exactly
what he'd expected to hear--- but privately he wanted to shout for
MORE....MORE....MORE!!!!!

Newman's mouth twisted in a self-satisfied grin at Carlton's verbal
onslaught.  Reaching into the small carrying case tucked away on the floor
beneath the sling, Victor extracted one of his toys and held in up for
Bradley's observation.  It appeared to be a small length of thinly linked
chain and a closer inspection revealed two clamps, one on each end, which
Victor pressed open between his thumb and forefinger---then allowed to snap
shut with an audible click.  Brad watched in puzzlement as the naked man
leaned over his body and reached for the stiff left quarter-sized nipple.
Swiftly, he attached one end of the chain to the brown hardened nipple,
steel teeth digging cruelly into Brad's flesh.  A cry of pain shot from his
lips as Victor repeated the process to the sensitive stiffer perched atop
the other solid pec.  When the device was in place Victor stood back,
crossing muscular arms over his chest, and reveled in his nemesis'
discomfort.

Brad's chest suddenly felt as though it was on fire!  The sharp teeth from
the steel clamps pierced into the flesh surrounding each nipple, pulling
the prominent buds outwards.  A deep heat spread through the underlying
muscles of each pectoral and enveloped the entire area.  Brad thrashed
about in the confines of the sling but his frantic movements only served to
upset the chain lying loosely in the valley below his mountainous pecs.  As
the chain slid to the right it pulled heavily on the left clamp; as it slid
to the left, it caused injury to the right. Brad rolled his head from side
to side, his body tensed, unsure if he could take the titty torture.

Shooting his head up to look at his captor, Brad shouted, "YOU'RE A SADIST,
NEWMAN!  I'LL SEE YOU IN JAIL FOR THIS!"

Victor smiled amusedly.  Balancing himself by grasping the chains which
secured Bradley's arms, Victor learned over the young Adonis' body and
brought his face close to the other man's.  His hot breath wafted across
Brad's lips, as he whispered deeply. "But you are the prisoner, dear
Bradley."

Brad responded by spitting heavily into Victor's lined face.  The other man
winced noticeably, shutting his eyes for a moment.  But when they reopened
the darkness in his twin sockets made Brad cold with fear.  The older man's
right hand came down and reached between their bodies to take hold of the
length of chain.  Brad's breath caught in his throat as he watched the gob
of his saliva drip from Victor's square, shaven chin, knowing what the man
had in store for him.  Lifting his strong arm backwards, his hand wrapped
around the links, Victor pulled the contraption away from Brad's prone body
causing the clamps secured to those big brown tits to pull the tortured
nipples up and away from his pectorals.  Brad watched in horror as his buds
were stretched out to grotesque proportions, the steel clamps threatening
to rip them from his chest.  Gritting his teeth, Brad released a scream
from down in his throat.  The veins at his temples bulged and his dark eyes
rolled back in their sockets.

And his dick was now a rock hard eight inches and leaking pre-cum!

                         * * * * * * * * * *

Upstairs, in the main house, a key turned in the lock of the front door and
the young man entered the Newman home.  A quick inspection of the lower
level failed to reveal any other presence, so he bounded up the familiar
steps to search the bedrooms.  There was still no sign of life anywhere in
the house, but the cars parked out front meant that Victor and Brad Carlton
were somewhere on the ranch.

Worried, the young man wiped his strong brow with the palm of his hand. He
knew full well of the vendetta between these two men and feared what might
have happened.  He was about to head downstairs and inspect the outer
premises---perhaps they had gone to the tack room to duke it out---when he
spied a door at the end of the hall open by a crack.  Advancing on the
door, he pushed it open with one quivering hand and entered the private
study of Victor Newman.

He had never been in the room before; it was off limits even to the butler,
Miguel, and was always securely locked.  The room looked much like Victor's
Newman Enterprises office, except for the console set back in one of the
walls.  Four monitors were mounted on the wall above a bevy of
complicated-looking switches and buttons.  The equipment appeared to be
dated.  The young man was unaware of surveillance cameras on the Newman
property but considered it his lucky break.  Perhaps through use of the
cameras, he could locate the two battling men and thwart potential trouble.
Pressing the "power" button, he sat back in a lush leather seat while the
monitors slowly came to life.

The scene with which he was confronted caused the man to jolt forward in
his seat.  There on all monitors, from four different angles, were Brad and
Victor.  The young man's eyes widened as he watched a nude Victor yank the
chain attached to Carlton's nipples.  Perusing the control board he located
volume control and, turning the knob, became privy to Brad's tortured
cries.  Swallowing hard, his eyes came into contact with a package of
recordable DVDs.  Fumbling with the container, he tore one disc free,
inserted it into the nearby recorder and pressed the "record" control.  The
machine whirred into life, recording the man play taking place in that
secret room situated somewhere in the bowels of the Newman
home. Incredulous, the observer sat back in the chair, his hands
involuntarily resting in his throbbing crotch.

                      * * * * * * * * * * * *

Victor released the chain and stepped back from his prey.  Brad was panting
heavily and a virtual river of perspiration flowed from every pore of his
hunky body.  His tits had been taken to a place beyond pain; a place
Bradley would never have thought possible.  Never in his life had be been
manhandled in such a fashion, and the experience was exhilarating!  Those
hard angry nubs had become the focal point of his body---twin pinpoints of
pain and pleasure.  He wanted to reach out and roughly twist those clamps,
restoring the animal lust which had pervaded his body at Victor Newman's
avenging hands.  Yanking at the wrist restraints, he begged to be released
from the bonds that held him in place.

"I think you're enjoying this far too much," Victor groveled, eyeing the
younger man's throbbing prick.  Raising his strong arm, he brought it down
with open palm to angrily slap Brad's hardness and then caught the cock
backhanded on his return swing.  Brad writhed helplessly in the confines of
the leather sling.  This man whom he hated so much was threatening to turn
him into a greedy whore begging for more attention.  He cherished the feel
of Victor's strong hand, slapping his manhood as if it were a bouncing
buoy.  His gorgeous eight inch meat was turning an angry red and pulsed as
if threatened to explode. Victor was going to beat the cum out of him if
this continued much longer!  HARDER, he wanted to shout, HARDER, YOU OLD
FUCK, but knew that his enjoyment was not what motivated Newman.

All at once Victor stopped, gave the tit chain one quick pull, and reached
down again into his box of goodies.  Brad watched with anticipation as the
man produced a jar of some clear gel.  Scooping a hefty amount from the
container, he slapped it onto Carlton's exposed ass and smeared it around
the entrance to his hairless hole.  With his thighs restrained back and
feet up in the air, Brad's bunghole was fair game for Victor's assault.  He
roughly massaged the cool jelly around the tight glutes and slopped it down
into the moist crevice that housed Brad's virgin manhole.  Bradley held his
breath watching Newman's hairy arm work on his private area, releasing it
in a gasp when Victor unexpectedly thrust a fat finger into his hole.
Victor turned and twisted his forefinger in the tight ass of the GQ-model
executive manacled in front of him.  His wrist rotating in semi-circular
motions, literally screwing the tight sphincter which clamped down on his
thick digit.

Brad's lust-lazed eyelids fluttered shut and a deep moan emanated from his
throat.  He was being finger-fucked by the wealthiest, most influential man
in the state of Wisconsin.  His rectum sucked at Victor's invading finger,
prompting the older man to slip his middle digit in alongside the wet
forefinger.  Bradley's lips parted and a deep sigh filled the room as two
heavy fingers probed in his expanding shitter.

If only Nikki could see him now, Victor thought.  Her knight in shining
armor was practically in the throes of orgasm as another man manipulated
his whoring body.  Far from an unintelligent man, Victor had sensed Brad's
staged reluctance almost from the moment the stud swallowed his urine.  Now
it was a test of seeing exactly how far he could go with the man before he
reached Bradley's breaking point----and then he would move in for the kill!

A third beefy finger punctured its way past Bradley's loosened ass lips and
joined its brothers in scooping up the walls of his anus.  Victor circled
the three fingers around the muscle-clad hunk's rubbery ass mouth, holding
the thick lips of his shit-tube wide open.  Bradley's voice box
reverberated with a steady groan, which turned into a shout when Victor
formed four long fat fingers into a cone and dipped them deep into
Bradley's Hershey Highway.  He screwed those digits in and out of the tight
stud hole, watching Bradley's face crease into a grimace, providing him
with incentive to forge ahead.

Withdrawing totally from the dark cavern, Victor dove his hand into the
lubricant container and smeared it from knuckle to wrist.  Wide-eyed, Brad
gulped heatedly and decided he had better reinforce his performance.

"DON'T YOU TOUCH ME!  I'LL HAVE YOU ON CHARGES OF FORCED RAPE, YOU
COLD-HEARTED BASTARD!"

Victor chuckled.  "Stop pretending, Bradley.  Your lips tell lies, as
usual."  And with that he took hold of a small glass vial, removed the top
with this even white teeth, and slipped it under Bradley's nose. Brad
inhaled deeply of the amyl, which sent him into a suspended state of
euphoria.  Victor leaned into him, stuffing himself into the man's asshole
past the knuckles and buried to the wrist.  Brad's sexy body squirmed
deliciously beneath Victor as he twisted his big hand inside the smooth
channel, thick fingers tracing the walls of Brad's tight pussy.  The hot
little muscle stud cooed like a schoolgirl under his ministrations.

Unwilling to allow Brad's bliss to continue, Victor spread more joy jelly
along the length of his corded forearm.  Pushing into the inviting hole in
a screwing motion, Victor sunk half of his forearm into the taut ass.
Bradley could feel his ass lips expand to unexpected proportions as they
accommodated the welcome intrusion of Victor Newman's arm-cock.  He had an
erotic sense of fullness in his bowels and began to rock the harness so as
to impale himself deeper onto the mighty arm of Newman. Between Newman's
continued driving and Bradley's eager acceptance, the older man was soon
buried up to his elbow!

Victor Newman, who controlled business empires and was acquainted with
local politicians and State Senators, felt a strange new sense of power as
his arm was embedded in the warm velvet glove-like confines of his wife's
lover.  It no longer mattered that he exact revenge upon the man.  Bradley
had become his willing sex slave and would, from this day forward, grovel
at the great man's feet for just one more moment with the Great One.

Slowly removing his arm until just the fingers remained, Victor abruptly
plunged forward and embedded himself deep into the sex slut's bowels.  Time
and again he arm-fucked Brad's hole, each time harder and more determined
than the last until he was punch-fucking the man pussy.  Brad inhaled of
the amyl Victor supplied and rollicked in the unbridled heat of the moment.
His ass was plugged again and again as Victor filled him beyondlimit,
fisting his tortured ass with wild abandon.  His hard cock bounced wildly
as his balls churned with lust-awakened juice.  The hard biceps of Victor
Newman's arm were even more pronounced as he repeatedly dove into the warm
asshole.  Sweat dripped from his brow, slid down the bridge of his nose and
nestled in the thickness of his graying mustache.  His eyes were crazed
with lust and vengeance.

                  * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In the darkened study, illumination from the four monitors cast upon the
body of the man laying back in the large comfortable chair.  His necktie
was loosened, the buttons of his shirt undone and his T-shirt rolled up
past his pectorals, while his slacks and underwear lay huddled around his
hairy ankles.  His tight ass squirmed on the leather seat as he stroked his
beefstick while watching the fist fuck session going on in the basement.
He held onto his ten-incher with both hands, beating it furiously while
volcanic pre-cum oozed out of the fat piss-slit, lubricating the fat shaft.
Licking his lips he zeroed in on the unexpected scene being played out in
front of him by the unlikeliest of duos.

He nearly cratered at what he saw next.  Victor Newman, who had been
squatting between Bradley's thighs up until now, stood and arm-fucked Brad
from an upright angle. His idle hand reached down his own body and drew the
attention of both voyeur and participant to the crotch of the older man.

The young man watching the monitors froze in his tracks, hand clutching the
base of his own ample dick, as his jaw dropped wide.

                     * * * * * * * * * * * *

Protruding upward at a provocative angle from the dense pubic forest of
Victor Newman's crotch was the most enormous cock either of these young men
had ever seen.  The one-eyed monster stood tall and proud, twelve fat and
bulging inches from crown to base.  The thick cord running down the
undersize of the spectacular prick was as wide as one of the busy fingers
which rummaged around in Brad's butt.  A network of pronounced veins
criss-crossed the entire girth of Newman's weapon, haphazardly forming a
disjointed trail upwards towards the enlarged baseball-sized helmet of the
great man's cock.  Thick, clear semen leaked from the wide piss slit,
dangling precariously in mid-air befor dropping onto the cold floor.

Brad's eyes shot wide open, whether from amazement at the spectacular
specimen or from the heavy pounding his bowels were taking, he wasn't quite
sure.  On the intake, Newman formed his fingers into a cone, slowly sliding
in and turning his palm upwards as his large forearm screwed young Carlton.
Once embedded to the curve of his elbow, Victor clenched his big hand into
a fist, causing his arm to expand.  Bradley let out a pained sigh and bit
into his lower lip as the arm was steadily withdrawn, the tightened fist
busting out of his hole.  Without losing a beat, Newman punched into the
hole again, losing his hand up to the wrist before yanking it out
again...and again....and again.

Just when Brad thought he could take no more, Newman extracted his hand
from the well-greased cavern and began to stroke his mighty cock, smearing
lubricant along the length of his shaft.  It took both big hands to coat
his vein-covered member.  Brad marveled at the amount of pre-cum continuing
to ooze from the gargantuan head of Victor's virile prick.  For an old man,
the business tycoon exhibited more stamina that most men his age.

"You tried to steal my company," he said with shortened breath. "You stole
my wife.  You fucked with me, Bradley.  Now I fuck you."

Positioning his fat wet head against the pooched out lips of Bradley's
manhole, Victor thrust.  In one swift movement, the bulbous knob pierced
the sphincter muscle and twelve hard fat inches slammed into the stud's
guts.  Brad fell back against the sling, eyes closed, as he felt the hot
cock throbbing within him.  Victor gradually withdrew his massive length
from the love tunnel until just his head remained confined---and then
thrust the thick fucker back in.  His big cum-filled balls slapped wetly
against Brad's buttocks and his coarse grey hairs tickled the insides of
the younger man's thighs.  Again and again he plunged into the hot,
inviting virgin manpussy, the velvety softness of Brad's rectal walls
massaging his invading poker.

Happily impaled on the thrusting rod, Brad locked eyes with the older man
and snarled, "Fuck me, you bastard!  Fuck me like I fucked your wife!  Make
me beg for it just like Nikki did!"

Brad's words produced the desired effect.  Incensed at the image of his
wife and this sex puppy making love, Victor fucked with a renewed frenzy.
The sling rocked wildly as he bucked against the tightly-toned body of his
rival.  Brad opened his ass to accept each ferocious thrust and tightened
his inner muscles as Victor attempted to pull back.  Both men panted
heavily, mad with animal desire.

The gigantic prick felt almost as thick as Newman's arm as it continued its
assault on Brad's sex-slicked shitter.  His stretched ass took the
battering like a seasoned pro.  Victor's body was bathed in dripping sweat,
his hair a tangle of damp locks.  He licked out at his lips, tasting the
salty residue from his body, and concentrated on the squirming hot glove
which caressed his fearless pecker.

Relentlessly he plunged into the depths of the other man's asshole, his
cockshaft ramming home with each deliberate thrust.  Inch after inch of
thick dick massaged Bradley's tender insides, sending him into a long
steady stream of "o-oo-oooh"'s and "aahhhhhhh"'s.  The bulging veins of the
angry cockshaft tickled his membranes and brought Bradley beyond the point
of return.

His body tensed and began to shake as a series of spasms rocked his
cock-stuffed body. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, teeth clenched, Brad's
healthy eight incher began to shoot wads of heavy cream, depositing streams
of jizz over his magnificent pecs and smooth torso.  His breath came in
short, loud, desperate gasps as Victor continued to pound him through the
ultimate in orgasm.

The tight clenching of Brad's ass as he went through the throes of release
took their toll on Victor.  His nostrils flaring, even teeth gnashing
together, Newman thrust deeply into the bucking asshole and unloaded his
pent-up semen.  Shot after shot of hot cum erupted from his sensitive
glans, coating Bradley's insides.  It seemed as though he would never stop
gushing love juice.  Bradley heightened the sensation by flexing his inner
muscles and, in effect, milked the glorious cock which had given him such
pleasure.

With his thick meat still embedded in the younger stud, Victor spread his
hands over Bradley's muscular chest, rubbing the man's own cum into his
skin.  Removing the cruel clamps from his splendid pecs, Victor leaned down
to take one tortured nipple into his mouth and chewed on it before moving
over to the other.  The taste of Brad's sweat-soaked skin and semen
pleasured his palate.  Rising, he touched his lips lightly to the other
man's. Bradley lunged forward, forcing his tongue into the mouth of the man
whom he had hated for so long, and sucked hungrily.

                     * * * * * * * * * * *

The young man lay back exhausted in the seat, his belly soaked with cum,
his dick still rock hard.  Reaching out for a box of conveniently placed
tissues, he cleaned himself and dressed.  Switching off power to the
surveillance controls he returned everything to its previous state of order
and, removing the DVD, left the study.

Quickly and quietly he made his way down the staircase.  With one hasty
glance backwards young Nicholas Newman, son of Victor and Nikki, slipped
out of the house clutching the incriminating disc in his sweaty hands.

jonroyale@optonline.net
jon_royale@yahoo.com