Date: Wed, 13 Jul 2005 09:55:43 -0700 (PDT)
From: Rio Mack <badprose@yahoo.com>
Subject: alien Culture 14 (gay/college)

The Alien Culture Project, part 14
by Rio Mack

DISCLAIMER: Contains depictions of gay sex.

After walking about 3 blocks, they reached the Riverbend Drive, a beautiful
parkway that ran all along the river - it was the route Chance liked to
run, cause you could get it a block from campus and do a very pretty five
miles all the way to the harborfront and back to his dorm.  But he'd never
been this far down it before, in the industrial section fringing downtown.
They walked up Riverbend for 2 more blocks, when Wyatt said, in that gruff,
sexy voice of his, "Well, here we be.  Come on around back; we use the
freight elevator."

The building was a huge brick warehouse, old - it looked like it was built
in the late 1940s.  It had ancient-looking industrial windows all over; in
fact, the sides of the warehouse looked more glass than brick.  Chance and
Reed followed their hosts' lead and hopped up on the loading dock.  Wyatt
opened a weathered steel door, and they entered a long, dark, musty
corridor.  "Elevator's right here," he said, opening the gate and then
pulling the doors open.  They all got in, and Wyatt pressed the button for
6, the top floor.  "We have the penthouse," Jesse laughed.  Chance could
feel the deep, throbbing pulse of sexual desire running in a current
through the group; it was manifest in lingering eyes, glowing faces, hands
on shoulders or arms, chest brushing against chest (rubbing hard, aroused
nipples), closeness.

As the old, grimy elevator slowly rose, Jesse told them what each floor was
as its floor number went by through the lattice-work door: the first two
were art galleries, the third a graphic design company, 4th was an oriental
rug dealer, and the 5th was storage space for the rug merchant.  At the top
floor they all got out.

"Holy shit, this place is cool!" Chance burst out when Jesse hit the light
switches.  Indeed, the place was gorgeous.  The floor was beautifully
refinished pine plank; the soft, subtle glow of the lights showed off an
impeccably decorated loft; and the two outer walls of the space, composed
entirely of floor-to-ceiling windows, added unique charm.  Chance went
straight for the windows to check out the view from up on high.

"Damn, guys this is amazing!  Great fucking view!" he said, staring down at
all the car headlights and neon signs sparkling in the thick night.

"This is really a great place.  You guys are very lucky," Reed said,
appreciating the beautifully furnished space.  Two very cushy-looking white
leather sofas faced each other in the living area, and a couple of Eames
chairs flanked them, with a big coffee table in the middle and a large
flat-screen TV on the wall opposite.  There was gorgeous artworks dotting
the interior walls, mostly male nudes: several photos (Jesse's no doubt), a
few pencil sketches, and a couple of large canvases (one, a photo-realist
painting of a beautiful young twenty-something boy lounging in bed, his
cock lying back flat and luscious-looking over his lower abs; the other was
a quiet, serene landscape).  Further back there was a very modern,
restaurant-quality kitchen area, and next to it a huge antique pine harvest
table, surrounded by ten old pine chairs.  Soft, lambent lighting from
recessed ceiling fixtures glowed intimately, to go with the cool mood of
the place, and lovely objets d'art, vases of flowers, candles sticks, and
other accents were sprinkled throughout.

"Glad you like it," Wyatt said in a low rasp, as he pushed a few buttons of
a very expense-looking stereo, set on a long shelf-system filled with
books, CDs, DVDs, and trinkets.  Soft jazz piano drifted through the room
from unseen speakers.  "Jesse took care of the decorating.  He did an
amazing job."

"How did you find this place?" Reed asked, as Chance joined him, still
rubber-necking the large, cool space.

"The building came up for sale 3 years ago," Wyatt explained, taking off
his jacket and shirt, immediately riveting both his young guests' gazes.
"I had some inheritance money, plus what I'd saved from 2 tours in the
Marines.  I put half down, and Jess took care of turning this top floor
into a living space.  The rent from the other tenants let us pay off the
place a few months back.  Turned out to be one of the better investments I
made."

"No shit," Chance said, in a low, appreciative whisper, "it's the coolest
space I've ever been in."

"Thanks, Chance," Jesse said, as he slipped off his own shirt, exposing a
lean, nicely-developed torso.  "It fits our needs perfectly.  There's this
big living, cooking, eating space, big enough for entertaining, then a hall
runs to our bedroom at the other end.  It's a great space, kind of a
smaller version of this room, all-window on two sides, and since we're the
last building, with only the river across from us, we don't even need
drapes.  It's pitch-black at night and there's gorgeous light in the
morning.  In the middle, off the hall, there's the bathroom and Wyatt's
workout space on one side - again, one wall all windows - and my studio and
darkroom on the other side.  We'll show you around later.  Right now, you
boys make yourselves at home and we'll open some wine."  He turned to
Chance, adding, "And then we can do our photo shoot.  After that," he said,
shooting a knowing gaze to Wyatt, "we can relax. "

Jesse walked over to Reed and put an arm around him, giving him a few pecks
while stroking him all over.  "I'm really glad you guys came over," he
whispered.  "Come on, Reed, get comfortable."  He started unbuttoning
Reed's shirt, and Reed started undoing Jesse's pants.  Their light pecks
turned very passionate.  Soon they were both nude and hugging closely,
their hard dicks pressed up against each other.

This is so great, Chance thought.  Guys together, intimate, so wonderfully
casual and frank about a male's deep sexual needs.  This is how he wanted
to live, how he wanted to be with the boys he knew - enjoying each other's
company to the absolute fullest, to the total limit of passionate physical
intimacy; arousing each other, being aroused, and then gloriously
consummating their longing.  He started stripping, too.

"C'mon, Reed, I'll show you my studio, and we can get set up for Chance"
Jesse said, breaking for air, both their heightened cocks rising
beautifully.  He cupped his delicate, sensuous hand around Reed's ass to
lead him to the hall.  Chance smiled as he watched those two perfect
beauties walk away, dicks swinging and muscular asses shifting sexily as
they walked, and Jesse's hand now stroking Reed all up and down his back,
from ass-crack to shoulders. "Wyatt, love, open some wine, OK?" he called
back to his boyfriend as the two disappeared down the hall.  "This won't
take long."

Chance turned to Wyatt, glad to see he, too, had shucked off all of his
clothes except his jock, which looked incredible on him.  What a fucking
man, Chance thought, staring at that incredible body, that huge, beefy cock
bulging out of the tight jock-pouch, alluring as hell.  It was rare to see
Wyatt this nude at wrestling practice, so Chance just slowly inhaled the
sight.

Wyatt's muscles seemed more hardened than Chance's: definitely bigger, they
also seemed tougher, more sinewy, more shredded.  It was like all the fat
had been worked out of his body, just straining, hard-packed muscle-fiber
remained.  His body hair was perfect: it lay close to his skin, swirling
over his hard, flat pecs; fanning out when it got to his curved, ripped
abs, sexily outlining that mouth-watering slab; then trailing down in a
sexy line that disappeared into the waistband of his body-hugging jock.
And then a beautiful dusting over his lower body, including a light coating
on his ass that Chance wanted to lick all over.  Fuck, did it look hot, the
way that thin coat of man-fur beautifully accented the groves and curves of
his incredibly ripped bulk, setting off each perfectly chiseled bulge.

"Be right back," Wyatt said gruffly, and Chance's eyes were glued to his
rippled perfection as Wyatt turned and walked down the hall.  He should
have been a dancer, Chance thought; the way his muscular frame moves is
riveting.

Alone in the loft, Chance was free to further survey the space.  He grinned
when he noticed that on the coffee table there in the living area, there
was a big bowl of leather and metal and plastic cock rings (which Chance
wouldn't have recognized a few days ago), along with tubes and bottles of
lube, a couple of dildo's (which he'd learned about in the stroke-books
Reed had borrowed him), and some items he couldn't figure out but which he
was sure were for sex.  There were a few DVD cases on the table, too, and
the covers all showed gorgeous, naked men.  On the shag carpet in that area
of the loft, big floor pillows lay scattered all over.

Fuck, Chance thought excitedly, this place is an adult male playpen.  Damn,
Reed was right; he'd been a dope to think he'd have to nudge these guys
into a 4-way: Reed and Wyatt ate, slept, and breathed hot sex, just like
Chance was starting to.  His dick got wonderfully hard as he thought about
the pleasure they would all have tonight.  Damn, is this ever cool, having
good-looking friends who were into some serious fucking, guys like him who
had finely-tuned bodies that begged to be put through their paces, taking a
robust pleasure in each other's company, a pleasure that extends from warm
regard and good conversation to licking, sucking, stroking, and fucking.
It was Chance's young boy's dream: loving male camaraderie, thickly coated
with cum.

Chance realized he was learning what it was like to be a full-blooded gay
male.  His mind drifted back to the scene of his dad's poker party.  This
is my version of that, he thought, his dick tingling now in anticipation.
A man's need is deep, eternal: his research on the Greeks showed that, as
well as those newly-emerging memories of his father; man's desire hasn't
changed from generation to generation.  The need for hot, satisfying
athletic sex, with some like-minded, good-looking fuck buddies, is
hard-wired in the male species; some guys look to girls to answer this
need, and that's cool, but Chance knew the sex was far more satisfying with
another guy, with one who fully comprehended, who literally embodied, the
exact dimensions of male desire.

Chance's need, of course, was underscored with a sense of urgency, for he
had so much wasted time to make up for, so he wanted to seize on any
opportunity that came his way.  He grinned sheepishly as he thought to
himself: fuck if those opportunities ain't been comin' fast and furious
since Reed helped me discover my true desire.  Those big, randy balls of
his pumped up lots of cream every day, and his goal was to drain out every
drop.  Somehow, he didn't think that would be a problem tonight.

Wyatt returned, holding something in his hand.  As his gorgeous frame
approached, Chance noticed that even Wyatt's feet were sexy as shit: big,
veiny, solid, with perfect-shaped toes.  Chance could just feel one of
those feet rubbing his cock while he sucked on the toes of the other.

"Here," Wyatt said with an almost tender huskiness as he threw what he was
holding to the naked young boy, "put this on.  Those blonde little hotties
of ours can prance around nude, dicks waggling, showing off to each other,
but we studs should be dressed like men."

At first, Chance could just stare at Wyatt again, still in a bit of
disbelief at this dreamy scene, this intense fantasy made flesh.  He wanted
to savor it, now that it was here.  Wyatt was built big and beautiful, hard
all over, like he was cut from stone in meticulous, loving detail.
Gorgeously curved and densely packed, he was a study in cock, balls,
muscle, and fur.  He had the kind of ripe, muscular power you'd expect from
a young stud Chance's age.  But, Chance thought, Wyatt was in better shape
than a twenty-something, cause there was a kind of seasoned quality about
his hardness.  This was a bronc who had spent a long time in the saddle.
Next to Wyatt, Chance felt a little soft.  But inspired, too, cause Chance
figured this is what he would look like after several more years of intense
workouts.  What made Wyatt's musculature even more cock-stiffeningly
beautiful was that sexy fur; it made him look like such a manly stud,
Chance thought.  Chance ogled that huge cock-stuffed pouch - damn, he
looked big down there.  Chance's ass tingled in boyish excitement at the
thought of this hard, older jock-stud ramming away at him.

"Fuck, Wyatt, you're about the hottest-looking guy I've ever seen," he said
quietly, knowing how thick his blood-engorged dick must look.

"Thanks, son, but you ain't too hard on the eyes yourself, y'know.  Now put
that on."

Chance tore his gaze away and saw that Wyatt had tossed him a jockstrap.
He stepped into it and drew it up, carefully adjusting his stiff young
prick in the small pouch.  It fit perfectly, felt snug and well-used.  It
was a thin-waisted runner's jock.  Wyatt himself wore a thick-banded one,
more of a weight-lifter's jock.  Chance considered himself a true
connoisseur of jockstraps, and so he knew the code of Wyatt giving him such
a skimpy one: it was to make sure Chance knew he was the young pup here,
and Wyatt was the big dog.  Chance's jock barely covered his young
ripeness; Wyatt was wearing the kind of jock a real man wore to look sexy
as shit.  Wyatt seemed fully clothed when compared to the thin little
nothing that Chance had on.  Its skimpiness made him feel more exposed than
if he'd been naked; he realized, from Wyatt's lip-licking leer, that his
coach was dressing him for the part of sexy young beefcake.  Chance
understood that, of course; but he understood something else: how fucking
hot he must look in this thin strap, how beautifully it would show off his
full young prick, his gorgeous body.

He looked down at his basket: oh yeah, his long, thick dick was perfectly
encased, very clearly outlined.  He could feel his full young hardness, not
just stiff from the sexiness of the scene, but also from knowing he was
wearing one of Wyatt's old jocks, one that this dream-stud had hugging his
dick quite often, by the well-worn feel of it.  Chance was amped to think
how hot he must look to Wyatt in this tight, revealing, body-hugging strap.
Wyatt sidled up next to him and stroked Chance's chest with one hand and
his huge bulging jock pouch with the other.  He leaned close as he stroked,
his voice barely able to contain his powerful lust for this gorgeous young
hunk.

"I thought that one would fit you just right.  Fuck, looks like it was made
for you."

He stood in back of Chance now, his hard, straining thickness pressing
desperately into the boy's eager ass-crack.  He kept rubbing Chance's pecs
and dick as he half-moaned, half-spoke, "Fuck, I ain't never been as turned
by a young stud on my squad as I am by you.  The other day - fuck, Chance,
I couldn't keep from pressing my dick in your ass like this as you lifted,
you looked so fucking fine."

"Shit, Wyatt, I wish you coulda just taken me right there, on the mat.
Fuck, you are so fucking incredibly sexy, dude!"

The two studs fell into a kiss, Chance turning his head back to meet
Wyatt's breathlessly hungry mouth.  Their kiss was full of the hot,
insistent passion of men who'd worked their bodies hard and now wanted to
fuck them hard.  Lips, tongues, hot panting breath, low sexy moans - all
sent tingles through each other's massive bodies, strained each other's
cocks in their now-moist jockstraps.  Wyatt was stroking Chance's cock hard
and firmly through the thin mesh.

"Mmmmm, I've been so anxious for that cock of yours, I want the pleasure of
waiting for it a little longer, anticipating it like this, seeing it
wrapped up nice like this, like a gift I've waited so long for.  Fuck,
Chance, I've beat off to fantasies of you so often this month I've lost
count."

"Damn, Wyatt," Chance panted, as the older man played his young ripeness
like a concert musician, "I want to take every inch of you inside me.  I
want to worship your stud-cock and your stud-jock's body.  I want to get
you off every way possible.  Fuck, Wyatt, I ain't never had a real man
before, and I'm hungry as hell for one."  He reached behind and stroked
Wyatt's impossibly bulging pouch.

They continued stroking each other's huge, steely-hard, muscle-stud meat.
Their jock pouches were getting deliciously wet already, a prelude to the
gushers they'd be shooting all night long.

"Fuck, son," Wyatt breathed lowly, voice trembling with lust, punctuating
his confession of lust with soft, light kisses on Chance's lips, face, and
neck, while his fingers kept playing over that delicious young ripeness,
"I'm harder'n hell fer you.  You got a real young stud's body, the kind
that drives me wild.  Best I've ever seen, son.  I feel I could make love
to you all night long.  That OK with you, boy?"

"Aw fuck, Wyatt," Chance moaned deeply, stroking Wyatt's dick through his
pouch, "you know that's just what I want, hot fucking sex with an
incredible stud like you."

Wyatt smiled, then let Chance's dick go and kissed him deeply.  He didn't
want a quick fuck.  No, not with this kid who he'd obsessed over all term.
No, this would be a night to relish.  You don't rush through a dinner at a
four-star restaurant, and with Chance, there were a whole series of
delicious courses ahead, and Wyatt intended to savor each luscious
mouthful.

"How about a drink?" he asked, walking over to a shelf in the kitchen area
with a built-in wine-rack.

Chance, too, was glad for the breather.  He seemed to understand that this
was how it was supposed to happen - flirting, courting, passion building,
hovering, body worship, passions left to cool for a little so they could
build up again, blazing even hotter and brighter, and only then the serious
foreplay that would lead to ecstasy.  This wouldn't be the quick, excitable
fucking of the randy boys Chance had known up to now; no, this would be the
slow, deep arousal and lusciously satisfying release of men - hard-bodied,
soulful men, wholly consumed by the intensity of their mutual lust.

"Sure, Wyatt," he said, thrilling again to the sight of that perfect stud
moving around the loft, tight muscles rippling so erotically, "I'd love a
drink."

Wyatt's deep, sexy rasp called out to the rear of the loft.

"I'm openin' a bottle of wine!  You boys want some?"

After a moment, Jesse called out, in a voice that sure sounded like he'd
been caught in the middle of something, maybe even with something in his
mouth, "Mmmm, uh, sure, lover!  Be right there!"

Sure enough, a few minutes later, the two naked hunks came back, both with
hard-ons only slightly fading, Reed's all wet and glistening, Jesse's
dripping a thin trail of precum.  Chance smiled, and then he and Wyatt both
noticed the same thing at the same time: dotting Jesse's little soul-patch
was a huge gob of cum.  Damn, Chance laughed, fast fucking workers.  Reed
must have been dying to get off, testosterone level all amped from the club
and this incredible after-party.  Wyatt smirked as his thickly-roped arms
easily pulled out the cork on a bottle of red wine.

"C'mere, lover," he said to Jesse, who went over and stepped into a hug
from Wyatt's massive arms.  They stroked each other's torso's sensuously,
and then Wyatt pulled back, smiled, and gave his lover and very hot, hungry
kiss, tongue lapping everywhere.  After it was over, Jesse said
breathlessly, "Whoa, what was that for, darlin'?"

"Just missed you, that's all," and he shot a sly wink to Chance, who smiled
to see that the cum-dribble had been cleaned off by Wyatt's talented
tongue.

"Well, it's damn nice to be missed, lover."

Chance drank his wine eagerly.  It seemed utterly appropriate to the
occasion, like they were Spartan generals, ready for a night of rough,
gloriously satisfying debauchery in their tents, but first enjoying some
wine to help further fan the flames their lust.  As he drank, he realized
it was wine the likes of which he'd never tasted: it was a red wine, but
actually looked more purplish in color, tasting not of grapes but rather of
blueberries, cinnamon, even violets.  Chance realized that Wyatt and Jesse
had a sophisticated life-style unknown to a simple farmboy like himself.
But it was a male style of sensuous coolness he very much wanted to learn.
He was rapidly developing a taste for a very particular kind of male
life-style, a very hip gay savoir-faire.  That was the true alien culture
he was mastering now - the sex had come easily, naturally - and the trick
was to build that culture onto the already solid grounding his family had
given him, to burnish those country roots with a patina of sophistication.
Reed was already helping him learn.  And so, too, would Wyatt and Jesse,
for something told Chance the two couples were going to become fast
friends.  He savored another sip of wine, letting its taste blossom in his
mouth.

He looked up to see Wyatt staring at him, gazing at his body.  Chance
realized that just as Jesse and Reed wanted to parade nude in front of each
other, he and Wyatt each wanted to show off their rugged jock-clad frames.
Chance bet that his own body, that of a corn-fed young cowboy-jock, was as
heady to Wyatt as his coach's thick, sinewy physique was to him.  To have
their two frisky blonde boyfriends romping and teasing around them made it
seem like he and Wyatt were regal, lusty kings, showing off their power and
strength to each other, while their sexy, nude consorts frolicked
sensually.

Chance set his glass on the kitchen island and walked slowly around the
walls of the living area, stopping to gaze at the art the two men had
displayed.  He was conscious of Wyatt eyeing his body's every move, so he
made sure his muscles were rippling just right.  As he studied one
painting, he rubbed his long mesh-covered cock slowly, teasingly.  At
another artwork, one of Jesse's he bet, since it was an incredibly erotic
photo of a perfect male torso, he reached behind and slowly rubbed his
crack.  Wyatt joined him, placing his own huge hand over his, so now there
were two hands rubbing into his crack.

"Like that?" Wyatt asked in his soft, husky voice.

"You mean the photograph or that sexy hand rubbing my ass?"

"The photo," Wyatt said lowly, as he kissed and breathed hard in Chance's
ear.  "I know you like this," he added as his middle finger brushed
Chance's hand aside and worked sexily around Chance's tight pucker.

"It's incredible.  So fucking gorgeous.  I could look at it all day."

"He's a poet, all right.  Here, come see this one," and he led Chance over
to another photo, this one of another gorgeous guy, lying back, full, ripe,
uncut cock draped down across his leg, incredible abs seeming to bulge off
the surface of the photo.  His arms, one cocked behind his head, the other
lying across his torso, playing with a nipple, were perfectly-muscled.
Chance was stroking his own dick absent-mindedly as he stared in awe at the
sheer homoerotic beauty.  Wyatt stopped his ass play.  Like a lusty satyr
moving in on his young prey, he positioned his beautiful musculature
directly behind Chance, as he had earlier, his hard, long jock-covered
dick, straining against its mesh, pressed up tight into Chance's ass.  He
held the boy by his broad, firm shoulders and kissed the boy's neck with a
mix of tender sweetness and mounting hunger.  He brought his hands around
to slowly massage the youth's perfect pecs and abs, while his hips started
slowly gyrating his hard bulge around in Chance's ass.

"Damn, Wyatt, let's fuck now, dude!  I can't fucking stand it anymore!"

"OK," Jesse called out, "Chance, I'm all set up for you.  Come on in, and
bring your jeans."

Chance gave out a low, frustrated moan.  Wyatt, too, was more than a little
pissed at having to pull up short, but he took a kind of pleasure in the
sharp, pulsing throbs of his hard dick, the feel of thick sperm churning in
his big ballsac, and in the knowledge that soon he would have the boy's
body to do with as he wanted.  Wyatt hadn't cum more than 5 times in a
night for a couple years, but he was gonna test that limit tonight.

Jesse's studio was starker than the living area; it had the same nicely
finished pine floors, but the outer wall here was exposed brick.  He had a
big camera with a hood on it set up.  It was pointed towards a area
illuminated by a couple of very bright photo-flood lamps. The floodlights
were trained on an antique wood-scrolled couch set against a backdrop of
rich purple velvet.  Scattered around the studio were tables with all kinds
of cameras and other equipment on them, plus a few bins off to the side.
There was a closed-off portion that Chance guessed was Jesse's darkroom

"OK, Chance, slip the jeans on.  We'll do a few with jacket and pants only,
then I have a few other ideas."

"Should I leave my jock on?"

"Hmmm," Jesse thought.  "OK, we'll do these first ones with the jock, but
then I want a lot with that gorgeous dick of yours clearly outlined."

He dressed and sat on the couch.  The three others had forgotten how hot
Chance looked in those low-riding jeans.

"OK, you look great.  Just mess around on the couch.  Look sexy."

Jesse snapped a few, then said, "OK, now just the pants, no jock."

Chance quickly shucked off his pants and jock, then pulled just the pants
back on.  He got back on the couch.  He tried lying back on it, playing
with his nipples, then half off the couch, then sitting up on the back - in
each pose he tried to look like he was ready to fuck (which wasn't hard,
cause he really wanted to get this over and get back to Wyatt).  He
unsnapped the jeans and unzipped them a little, letting the root of his
dick and his sexy shaved pubes show.

"Hot!" Jesse called, clicking away.  "Fuck, Chance, you are so damn
gorgeous.

As he thought about how to pose, Chance started thinking of his dad again.
He thought his dad would be real proud of him for having toned his body to
the point where men would find it erotic, desirable.  "You wanna be out in
front on most things, Chance," his dad told him so often.  Well, here he
was being photographed, his image to be used, maybe, for one of the months
in an incredibly famous calendar of sexy men.  Chance took that to mean
that he could be considered one of the 12 sexiest men in America this year.
Dang, that's about as far out in front as you can be.  The thought filled
him with an incredible sexy glow.  He could feel himself more centered.  He
knelt on the couch and stared soulfully at the camera, imagining the guys
who would buy it and get turned on seeing him.

"That's great, Chance!  Perfect!  Just move your body slightly, flex,
ripple, keep that expression!"

Chance turned his head to the side, crooked one arm in back to expose his
pit, put one hand in back to play with his crack.  Each pose sexier than
the last.  Reed was totally in awe of his boyfriend as he watched.  It
looked to him like Chance was channeling the essence of gay sex.  The naive
college-jock expression, charming as it was, was gone.  His look now as he
posed was lust, passion, hunger, even a little arrogance.  He was brooding,
beautiful, romantic, smoldering. Reed, still naked, stroked his hardness
unashamedly as he watched his sexy-ass lover play porn-star.

"OK, great," Jesse said.  "I just want to try a few more with . . . what, I
wonder," he asked, as he combed through the stuff in one of the bins.
"C'mere, Chance.  What do you think about this?" he asked as he held up a
small, ripped wife-beater.

"That's pretty hot," Chance said, but his gaze fixed on something else in
the box.  "What's this?" he asked, as he pulled out some leather straps
joined by a metal ring.

"Ooooh," Jesse smiled, "that's Wyatt's old chest harness, from his leather
bar days.  You like that?  I hadn't thought of leather . . . " Jesse said
in a mulling-over sort of voice.

"So you were a hot leather daddy?" Reed laughed, sidling up to Wyatt,
letting his hard wet cock poke the man's jock-pouch, and stroking his hairy
chest.

"Damn straight, you hot little twink fuck," Wyatt laughed, pulling Reed
close to him and playing hard and sexy in his ass.  With his jock-clad cock
pressed firmly against Reed's dripping hardness, he kept up his
deep-ass-play, and the two kissed hungrily.  They both looked forward to
what the night held in store.

Jesse showed Chance how to put on the harness.

"Fuck, you look hot!  Good call, Chance!  OK, back on the couch."

"Wait just a sec," Chance said excitedly.  He couldn't believe it - this is
the thing so many of the hot young studs at Sparta were wearing.  "I gotta
see how I look."

In the mirror, Chance saw his hard young firmness now accented by these
thick, sensuous-feeling leather straps.  Shit, did he look good.  It was
like his young jock body now had an aura of very hot, adult, sexy danger
added, a thrilling edge.  He unzipped his pants all the way, so his pubes,
groin, more of his dick, and one of his sexy V-lines were fully exposed.

"I'm gonna use my digital camera, too, on this last set," Jesse said, as he
grabbed it, adjust it, and held it in one hand.

"OK," he said.  Chance hopped up on the couch, knelt on the seat, flexed
his chest, and threw his head back, as if to say, "I don't know if y'all
can handle this shit!"

"FUCK YES, Chance!  Incredible!  Feel your pecs, lick your lips!  Now,
close your eyes and rub your head!"

Chance did all that, then jumped up sexily on the couch, faced against the
velvet, flexed his back muscles against the tight leather harness, then
turned to the side.  His jeans draped even lower, exposing more of his
luscious ass-cleavage.  This pose, especially, just reeked of
homoeroticism: it was as if the moment right before the most incredible sex
in your life, with this gorgeously sexy, wild-ass muscle-god, was frozen.
The image was crammed full, oozing out, with the promise of total pleasure.
Jesse took a few photos of it with each camera; he sense this would be the
one.

"Oh fuck, are you hot, Chance!  When I used to shoot porn, this was right
around the time the guy would whip his dick out!"

Chance was in the zone; that's all he needed to hear.  He pulled out his
hard uncut beauty and started stroking.  He worked a big gob of pre-cum out
onto his middle finger and sexily licked it off.  One hand worked his long
shaft while the other sucked his finger deep into his mouth.  Reed had
grabbed Wyatt's dick out from beneath the precum-drenched jock pouch; the
two of them began stroking each other off in deep, masculine awe.

"Fuck, dude, you ain't never told me you were a male stripper back home,"
Reed half-laughed, amazed at his lover's raw sexuality.  He thought back,
just a few days ago, to Chance's sexy strip-tease in his dorm-room.  Shit,
Reed thought, scratch Chance just a little and there's a sexy-ass
cowboy-hustler ready to burst out.  Damn, where does this side of him come
from, Reed wondered.

Chance pulled his jeans lower and played with his ass.  He spread his
cheeks apart, looked back at the camera, licked his finger again, then
worked it up into his ass.  That smooth hard crack was a major turn-on for
all three viewers.  Jesse was almost pissed he had to keep taking photos,
that he couldn't start jacking off to such a hot live sex show.

Chance lay back down on the couch and kicked his jeans off.  With his head
pressed back against the couch, he used his powerful leg muscles to raise
up his lower body.  His hard clenching ass looked magnificent as he
sensuously stroked that long wet dick.  He played a little with his
foreskin, as if he were teasing the hundreds of eyes that might see these
pics.  Now he worked his big, floppy balls between his fingers, his face a
drawn-up mask of hot boy-lust.  He held his cock in one hand and worked
down in his ass-crack with the fingers of his other, powerful calves and
hips still holding his ass up.  Fuck, it felt good, he thought, as he
fingered with abandon, proud to show the others how he masturbated, totally
buzzed on how they were getting off on it.  He was close to shooting and -
.

"STOP!" Wyatt yelled, brushing Reed's feverishly stroking hand aside, and
tucking his cock back in his jock; it looked so fucking hot under the
moist, almost see-through mesh, all hard and splayed-out against his tight
lower abs.  "Fuck, boy, I'll be cummin' in a minute, and so will you, and
that seems an awful waste o' seed.  You got enough pics, Jess, don't ya?"

Jess had caught his breath.  Damn, he wanted the cumshot, but he knew Wyatt
wanted it worse.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine.  I'll print some of these in the morning, and we'll see
how they turned out.  I think I know which one I wanna use.  Thanks,
Chance.  I'll give you a check when you leave.  Let me say, dude, this was
one of the hottest photo sessions I've ever had.  Shit, they ain't been
this raunchy in years, have they Wyatt?"

"Naw, but what'dya expect when you got a fine-ass stud wrestler to pose for
ya?  We're 'bout as raunchy as they come, ain't we, Chance?"

Chance was standing up, working the harness off, his cock still twitching
and dripping.

"You got that right, Wyatt.  Dang, I could use another drink, I reckon."

They went back to the living area.  Jesse and Reed sat next to each other
on the sofa, kissing and whispering lowly to each other.  Each had the
other's cock in his hand.  Wyatt was filling his and Chance's wine glasses
for one more drink before the sex started.

Chance grabbed a seat on one of the other couches and motioned for Wyatt to
join him.  Wyatt set down the two glasses of wine and put his arm around
his young wrestler.  Chance sank back into the couch and rubbed his hand up
and down Wyatt's massive, lightly furred thigh, stroking the older man's
hard bulge every now and then.  He sighed in contentment: he was ready for
a hard, raunchy fucking from this sexy-ass stud.

"Wyatt, put a movie on, would you?" Jesse asked, voice thick with lust.  He
wanted to sit on the couch and make out with Reed to some hot porn flick.
He wanted to feel that beautiful tan, torpedo-shaped uncut cock of Reed's
ramming deep in his ass.  All he could think of as he'd sucked Reed off
earlier was how good that thick, hard, uncut beauty would feel plowing his
hole.

"Sure," said Wyatt.  He turned on whatever disk was in the player, and then
asked Chance if he wanted to see his home gym.  It was time for the
muscle-studs to leave these hotties to their sex-play; it was time to show
this delicious young stud what real man-sex was all about; it was time for
some very hot fucking.

He led Chance down the hall and into his workout space, cupping his ass
greedily, letting his fingers roughly play up and down the crack he would
own in a few minutes.  He flipped on the lights.

"Nice," Chance commented, enjoying the sensation of those rough, manly
fingers claiming his ass.

Wyatt had a great room; the far wall was all windows, like the front area
of the loft.  There were mats almost everywhere.  The equipment was
minimal; it belonged to a man who really knew how to work his body: there
was a rack of weight plates, some barbells and dumb bells, a pull-up bar
hanging from the high ceiling, a big wooden cube that Chance knew was for
calf raises, and a couple of benches - one standard, one inclined.  It was
exactly the kind of set-up Chance would have chosen: no machines, some
basic weights, and a bar to do chin-ups, pull-ups, and hanging crunches.
Wyatt must think like Chance, who got the best pump when he was working
against his own body weight in exercises like pull-ups, push-ups, and
crunches.

Chance jumped up and grabbed hold of the chin-up bar, his perfectly toned
body knocking out a set of forty-some chin-ups before he exhausted his
muscles.  He hopped down and flexed his muscles.  Wyatt smiled, loving the
show made by Chance's bulging, sweat-sheened muscles, and that
mouth-watering, semi-hard, uncut cock bouncing up and down.  He hopped up
and cranked out forty with no sweat, then ten more one-handed, then
flipping his grip mid-air to pull-up mode, he managed about thirty more.
Chance was totally turned on as he watched the older stud work that
disciplined body up and down, upper arms pumping in pure athletic abandon,
abs bulging in lean, rippling beauty, and that jock-pouch just a slick wet
cover to an achingly beautiful cock.  Chance's dick was totally stiff,
jutting, and dripping now; his lust-worship was unmistakable.

Wyatt hopped off, came over to Chance, and the two stood facing each other,
getting a good look at the perfect body each lusted after.  Wyatt stepped
forward, stretched his massive arms slowly, rested his arms on Chance's
shoulders, and the boy stepped into the enveloping embrace.  Chance's thick
young cock jutted up in proud, masculine glory, but in a moment his sex was
pressed hard against Wyatt's groin, their full balls pressed tightly
together.  Chance placed his arms on Wyatt's shoulders.

They slowly ground their cocks and ballsacs against each other's, Wyatt's
still encased in his wet, straining jock.  Gripping each other's shoulders,
grinding wonderfully away at each other's groins, they each leaned back to
drink in the other's beautiful body - arms, chests, abs, thighs.  Both were
so beautifully worked, it was like looking into a mirror, except one was
young and smooth, the other was older, with the drenched, musky fur of a
bear-stud.

The two embraced in the heat of unbridled lust.  While their tongues
hungrily explored each other's mouths, one of Wyatt's big hairy paws played
teasingly with Chance's hard, drippy cock.

"Lie down, boy," Wyatt croaked huskily.  "Let me look at you."

Chance lay back on the mat.  His hard cock - so much longer and thicker
than most boys' - twitched in ecstasy.  The gorgeous fullness of his
musculature was a gift to Wyatt, offered to do with as he pleased.  Wyatt
knelt next to his young wrestler, staring at the exquisite perfection he'd
dreamt about all term, and let his rough hands trace gently over each
gorgeous curve.  Christ, he loved big-muscled boys with long, full dicks.

"Fuck, you are beautiful," he said in his low, lust-coated rasp.  His own
cock was painfully, awkwardly encased in his jock, but he wanted to slow
down and gain firm control of this first fuck.  He idly traced Chance's
ripe bulges over and over, trying to get his own breathing and passion
under control.

"This is gonna be so fuckin' nice," he cooed hoarsely, as Chance groaned in
a kind of taut ecstasy.  Chance brought his own hands up to play tenderly
against the fur-covered glory of Wyatt's gorgeous physique.  The two cooled
their passion a little as they glided over each other's hard curves and
ripples.  Wyatt bent in to give surprisingly tender kisses to Chance's
body, while his fingers continued to trace their lust-pattern.  The young
boy lay back and thrilled to Wyatt's gently rough teasing.

Wyatt began concentrating on Chance's dick, playing with it, marveling at
its size and girth.  He leaned in and played with the foreskin, the way he
liked his own played with.  He stretched it, nipped at it, tongued under
it, jerked it slowly back and forth.  Each glistening dollop of precum that
formed on the tip was licked tenderly away by the older stud.  He lightly
fingered the boy's smooth ballsac with his big, strong fingers; it felt to
Wyatt like a soft velvet pouch given to some hero in a fairy tale, holding
precious, magical gems.  His tongue played over that sac with
excruciatingly slow tenderness, then he gently took first one, then the
other in his mouth, savoring them, laving each ball sensuously, teasingly.
Wyatt's tongue was like a sophisticated pleasure-instrument to Chance, who
was almost wholly swept away in this soft rush of ecstasy: it was sending
tingles through him that were the most exquisite sensations he'd ever felt.
The older stud's tongue played everywhere over Chance's smooth, ripe
ballsac, then snaked lower, painting his perineum with the thick moistness
of mature lust.  Even further he went, down the smooth path to Chance's
tight pucker, teasing it just a bit with the promise of the full-bore
pleasure to come.

Wyatt had kept it slow and gentle; his dick had grown soft and plump from
the quiet rhythm of that sensuous genital-play.  It was time to fully strip
and get down to some real sex, so he rose off Chance's scrotum so the boy
could lie back and watch him unveil his cock.  He wanted Chance to see it
in all its meaty uncut glory.  He knew from experience his was a dick young
cock-hounds like Chance lusted after.  So, straddling the boy's chest, he
stood up and slowly peeled off his moist jock.

"OH FUCK!" Chance gasped, reverently, eyes riveted to Wyatt's astonishing
manhood, as the older stud tossed his wet jock aside.

Wyatt's cock was incredible, the perfect crowning touch to his raw-stud
sexuality.  It was full, thick, long, and meaty, like Chance's, only
probably an inch longer and thicker.  But what made it mouth-wateringly hot
was the long extra fold of foreskin-hood nippling down about an inch over
the head.  The whole lovely package dangled sexily down over a pair of
drooping balls as big as a young boy's fist, nestled in a beautifully
sweaty puff of Wyatt's pubes.  Chance, already hard, now felt like he might
shoot just by looking at that dick.  He raised his hands up and handled it
worshipfully, toying with that deliciously tempting mouthful of foreskin.

"That's the hottest-looking dick I've ever seen, Wyatt.  Fuck, stud,"
Chance said, voice thick with lazy lust, "get back down here and lemme at
this thing."

"Glad you like it, boy," Wyatt smiled.  He turned around and eased his
hard, muscular frame down on top of the boy so his cock was right at
Chance's hungry mouth.  Meanwhile, he grabbed Chance's hard, wet, twitching
prick roughly by the base and went right to work on it.  Wyatt had been
lusting after Chance's thick young meat all night.  Other than fucking,
there were few things Wyatt loved more than pleasuring another stud while
his own cock and balls were getting serviced, so the two muscle-studs
commenced to 69 with an almost-obscene relish, finally free to commence
what they hoped would be a long journey of intimacy with each other's
bodies.

After a few minutes of hot, juicy slurping and sucking, Wyatt pulled off to
get a better purchase on Chance's hips.  As much as he loved sucking that
long, thick, veiny young meat, he wanted something else more: he hoisted
Chance's hips up to get at that smooth, muscular ass.  His own dick,
simmering from the smoldering heat of Chance's oral worship, was set to
burst, so he wanted to ready this dream-boy's ass for entry.  His tongue
dug in, as excited as a young boy with a triple-scoop cone handed to him.
He lapped and tongued that smooth, hard jock ass in sheer saliva-thick
delight.  He could remember no better sensation than this young stud's
smooth crack and tight pucker.  He thought he might cum just from the
contact high of his tongue sensuously grooving that velvet-slick
pleasure-zone.

He lapped, sucked, pried his tongue in, working the tight hole open, all
the while slurping and snorting with luscious abandon.  As he grew more and
more enraptured with the best ass he'd ever rimmed, Wyatt noticed Chance's
attention to his own dick lagging.  He laughed to himself, knowing that he
was sending Chance over the edge with this rim job.  He got into some
serious, hard tongue-fucking, twirling and twisting his stiff, wet
love-probe into every possible spot along the walls of Chance's
love-tunnel.  Slurp, lick, suck, tongue-fuck, tongue-fuck, lick, slurp,
tongue-fuck - Wyatt set up a deep, insistent rhythm of hot, masculine
passion.  It's like my tongue's a key, Wyatt thought, and I've finally
found the lock it fits.  Suddenly, Chance's moans grew louder and harder.

"UH, UH, OH FUCK.  OH FUCK, WYATT!  OH, THAT'S SO FUCKIN' FINE, I - "

And then the boy shot.  Globs of hot young jock-cream coated Wyatt's torso,
as well as the boy's cut abs.  Wyatt loved how young guys came in such
full, thick loads.  Smiling at this youthful athlete's tightly-wound
erogenous trip-wire, Wyatt kept tonguing while he scooped up what he could
of Chance's thick boy-juice and used his cum-coated fingers to work the
tight hole wider.  He kept tonguing and licking, so he could lap up as much
of Chance's hot young spunk as possible.  Delicious, a sweet tang to it.
Chance was panting in ecstasy, and Wyatt was pleased to see what a
sensitive ass the boy had.

Finally he felt Chance was wide enough to take his enormous cock.  He
flipped himself around, kissing Chance deeply as he turned, then tonguing
his ear as he whispered, "You are so fucking fine, son," he hoisted the
boy's powerful legs up onto his shoulders, stared as the youth's gorgeous,
powerful muscularity, now so sexily vulnerable, and brought his huge,
dripping cock-tip to Chance's smooth, slick ass, glistening from cum and
saliva.  Chance stared down briefly, to marvel that the hood of Wyatt's
foreskin was still totally covering his long, gorgeous stiffness.

"Here it comes, boy," Wyatt croaked raspily, barely able to speak from the
force of lust overpowering him.

Chance cried out in awe as that dream-dick slid slowly in.  Wyatt's cock
was thicker than anything he could imagine.  It had to be ten inches in
diameter, easily.  As Wyatt slowly worked the meaty length in, holding his
well-muscled frame back proudly as he eased into the boy, Chance was in
total bliss.  His ass was electrified, begging for each thick inch.

"OH FUCK YES!!!" he cried, and Wyatt just smiled at having found his
ultimate young muscle-bottom.  He looked down and watched as the young
stud's tight, hard ass seemed to inhale his dick, gobbling it up more
eagerly than anyone ever had before on a first fuck.  Soon he was in all
the way.  Chance could feel the soft, sexy fur of Wyatt's thighs on his
ass, that puffy patch of pubic hair tickling his balls, and Wyatt's hefty
low-hangers nestling up to his ass-cheeks.  This was a bliss he never
wanted to end.

"You ready for some fuckin,' son?" Wyatt asked huskily, bending close to
kiss his new young fuck-buddy, both of them falling off the edge of
delirium.

Chance kissed back, moaning with all the raw, urgent passion of delirious
youth.

"Fuck me, Wyatt!  Fuck me hard and long!  You are so fucking big, dude!  I
never had a real man's dick in me before, and I'm fucking lovin' it!  God,
I need this dick!  Fill me with your hot jock seed, man.  Make me a man,
Wyatt!  Make this ass yours!"

This first dream fuck with Chance was proceeding just as Wyatt had hoped.
He grabbed the boy's smooth, strong thighs and began to pump.  Their two
muscular bodies were a blur of athleticism.

Chance relished this huge, hard, thick cock in him, being wielded by such a
strong, beautiful hulk of a man.  At first he just lay back, his ass-walls
tingling with this ultimate stimulation.  Wyatt, on the other hand, had
never fucked an ass this tight since he first started exploring his
sexuality with other young boys in high school.  His most recent partners
had all been experienced lovers; Chance seemed like a young, just-fucked
virgin.  And when a hole this tight belonged to the hottest-looking young
jock he'd ever seen, why, no wonder his prick was hard, excited steel.  All
his senses were flared up.  He pumped hard, fast, expertly; he wanted to
dazzle Chance with his first real man-fuck.

But Chance was up to it.  His ass started moving slowly this way and that,
up and down, showing Wyatt he was an equal partner.  The sensations on
Wyatt's dick, with this powerful young dream-stud using his strong core
muscles to ride Wyatt's long hard thickness, was exquisite.  As good as
Wyatt could give, hitting every switch he could in Chance's tight ass,
Chance gave back - it was as if Chance's ass were alive and aware of just
the kind of pleasure it wanted.  God, what a fuck, Wyatt thought.  No one
had ever met his sexual athleticism like this before.  He gazed down at
Chance's face, a mask of sweating, straining joy.  He was working as hard
for his pleasure as Wyatt himself.  Their sweat-sheened muscles were a blur
of tight, hard, ripples.  Had this fuck been filmed, it would have been the
best-selling porn-tape in history.  It was like watching an older god fuck
a young one.

Wyatt's gym echoed with the hard, strong cries of these two athletes,
lustily crying out their passion from deep in their guts.  It was mostly
wordless grunting with the word "fuck" repeated over and over.  You
couldn't get any deeper into sex than these two were getting.

Wyatt felt it build, an orgasm rushing on him like a tidal wave.  He
plunged hard and deep into the lush moistness of Chance's sweet ass,
causing the boy to gasp, pushing him further into ecstasy.  Wyatt pumped
three thick loads of man-cum into Chance's ass, but knew a few more spurts
were coming.  He pulled his long, thick, glistening cock out and brought it
close to Chance's lips.  The boy, in the dreamy throes of just-fucked lust,
brought his hands up to stroke that gleaming, glorious prick.  Wyatt's face
clenched and he shot a few more thick gobs, which landed on Chance's lips
and cheeks like cool water on the face of a sun-parched desert-traveler.
Wyatt felt one more blast churning up from his near-empty balls.  He caught
it in his hands, lapped it up with his tongue, and then bent down to kiss
his new bed-partner.  Chance opened his mouth in tender gratitude, and
Wyatt delicately used his tongue to coat Chance's tongue and lips with his
cream.  With that loving gesture, he cemented forever a new, intimate
relationship with this young god, the best boy he'd ever fucked.  He loved
Jesse, nothing changed there, but Chance now became a wonderful new
opportunity for sex.  It was like two proud warriors from the same tribe -
each stranded and alone in a new world - had, through some stroke of luck,
found each other, each recognizing a brother, silently vowing they would
never break this newly-forged bond.

Comments welcome
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