Date: Fri, 29 Feb 2008 10:46:28 +0000
From: J Smith <jsmith381@hotmail.com>
Subject: Addicted to Porn

Hey guys, this is another piece I wrote ages ago and have only just
rediscovered.  It features a seventeen year old in a sexual situation with
an adult, and is designed as an aid for slow and private masturbation for
guys who like guys.  If that's not your thing, then turn back now.  If it
is, let me know if it got you hot.

jsmith381@hotmail.com


ADDICTED TO PORN


Jesus, I mean I was into porn when I was 15, wanking 3 times a day and
swopping pornos with my brothers and pals, with me looking at the cock
rather than the beaver but it comes to the same thing; and then I was
addicted all over again when I was 18 and I found that you could buy porn
without women in it (phew) because all that hair and make-up and pissflaps
had really been getting in the way of me lusting on the cocks and bods.

And just about when I'd got over that addiction, there I was in my 20s, and
thought I could maybe start to grow up a bit, well then the internet came
and I was addicted to it all over again (my third addiction, jesus) which
was hard when you're supposed to be over all that and like actually getting
on with the sex; and so you're doing all the good stuff -- boyfriends and
saunas and parties and clubs and orgies and weekends away with potential
LTRs -- but you're going through your third-stage porn addiction at the
same time.

I mean, fuck.  There I was with a guy who I thought could be a real
possibility, and he's got a good bod and a great cock and shoots loads like
dollops of hot mayo, and I'm there in the hotel getting a total proper
shafting from him, and afterwards, when we've mopped up the juice and
kissed for a bit and he's asleep, I'm tempted to get my laptop out and surf
around till I can find some hot boi on cam working his meat over for me.  I
mean, wtf?  Porn's supposed to be what you do when you haven't got the real
thing yeah?  But what does it say when you've got a stud in your bed and
you've got his juice in your belly and the promise of more in the morning,
and maybe, if all goes OK, every morning for many years yet, but you're
still thinking of some 19yo cali surf dude working his niner like a pro
till he glops over his pecs and licks it up promising more next week.
Fuck, well, you reach for your guy's two day old boxers, picking them up
from the floor and take a good sniff from the pouch, and start to bone up
and get to work on the rod while the surfboi shows you his gear, and I'm
thinking fuck yeah dude this works for me, even though the stud is asleep
in a bed right next to me and the bed's costing 200 a night because this is
supposed to be an upmarket country shag pad, and they don't mind two guys
doing a room together because hey we're as good for the money as the
breeders next door, and I'm thinking JESUS, I wish they'd just take the
whole porn industry away and let me get on with the fucking.

And now in my 30s this bloody porn addiction still rules my day, even
though I've been with the mayo stud for ten years now, and he's pretty much
the star prize, he fucks like a train and kisses like a lover and makes
crab linguini and vodka shots, and I'm seriously into him, you know, we're
probably gonna get the families out and say the words for the sake of our
mums who always wanted their big day with a new hat and prawn sandwiches,
and so you could say we're sort of there, and getting on to being a more or
less a success, and guess what the sex is pretty good and the mayo keeps
splatting over my chest and back and face, but I've still got a pull in my
sac that says there's some new pair of straight san diego marine studs who
might fuck for my voyeuristic pleasure, and I could spend a hot twenty
minutes taking a look at them and working a load out, and hey, I could do
that while my man is out at the shops or at work or maybe asleep or working
on the car, come to think of it there's a new cadinot I downloaded on
limewire while he was asleep the other night and I haven't watched that
yet, and I've always been a sucker for a french boy with a big one, even
though I have my own big hung boy who shares a bed with me every night who
is more than willing to get down to it.  And guess what, I don't know why
but I still get this fucking urge to wank like I was a fucking teen again,
I mean wtf, and the porn is always available, there's always hotter studs,
bigger dongs, fatter cumshots -- fuck off!!!  I don't know, why do I try
to imagine a dude spurting over my face and in my mouth, trying hard to
taste his jizz, I mean why do I do that, when I got the best source of
cream in the boxers of the guy asleep right next to me?  I mean, guys, his
cream is the best -- it's hot and delicious, but hey, why am I telling
you that?  You all know what good cream tastes like.

I guess the thing is that porn is the unknown, and the packet in the jock
strap next to me in bed is the familiar; and however fucking glorious the
familiar is, some days it doesn't compare to that tempting porno
possibility that you just might strike pure gold.  What if the dude has a
body by Michelangelo and a ten inch hardon and chants your name lovingly as
he stares at the camera working his meat expertly and enjoying and
caressing and teasing his body until he explodes in an ecstatic, impossible
shower of spunk, drenching his chest and face, and then licking his own
juice from his lips, he winks at you, and smiles, and says thanks for that,
pal, that was pretty hot?

I mean -- there's always a chance that could happen, yeah?  Isn't there?
Tell me guys, am I the only one who thinks like that?

I reckon now the search for perfect porn is the thing, and no longer the
discovery.  Jesus, half the porn I download I don't even watch.  What kind
of fucking madness is that?  But it's the looking -- the hunt -- that's
the point, no?  The hours deciding what to download, what to watch, what to
save, lining up more downloads even as you watch something, and then not
getting to the end of it because something else seems even hotter?

Why am I saying all this?  What the fuck, I'll tell you a crazy story --
proof that the porn addiction is as strong now as it ever was.

Me and my man live in a building with 24 apartments off four stairways.  On
one of the other stairways, I have long known (as has everybody in the
building) that there is a family of a decent couple and their three sons.
The three sons are all way hot.  The eldest is twenty-odd, and isn't around
much these days, but his dark hair and smile would be enough to give you a
bone if you bumped into him in the street.  The next is about nineteen or
twenty, and lives half at home with his parents and half with his
girlfriend, but can't afford to move out properly yet.  He's got a
motorbike which makes way too much noise but you just can't help but
forgive him that because he's so fucking hot, and when you see him swing
his leg over that big beast and zip up his leathers, you find you got a
situation and need to ease the tension in your boxers.

The youngest son is 17, and gives head for cash.  True.  Everyone knows it.

I don't know if he thinks of himself as a prostitute or not, and I don't
much care either way.  He's free to do what he wants as far as I'm
concerned.  I know his delivery is good, because the guy who lives above us
told me.  He's an architect in his 40s, and has a succession of high energy
fuckbuds but no permanent man in his bed.  I know they are high energy
because we hear him.  Hey that's no problem -- when me and my man get
going, we don't hold back either.  More than once the architect has invited
himself into our bed, and we always said no.  But hey we're still friends,
and he and I chat a lot -- and swap porn.  On one conversation recently,
he told me of the very cute dark haired teenager from the staircase over
the back, the youngest of those three dark haired stud puppies, and how the
architect had a good thing going with him, which was fifty for a headjob,
whenever he wanted it.  My architect buddy had taken this teenager's
service on half a dozen occasions, and every time the young guy's work had
left him zinging like a squeezed lemon.

According to the architect, the dude doesn't get his dick out, and he won't
let anyone touch him, but the price is well worth it if you fancy some
great head and want to witness a young apprentice perfecting his trade.
Well, my infidelity has always been with porn and not with flesh, and I
wasn't interested.  I can have a spine-cracking blowjob most nights of the
week by cooking my guy steak and opening a merlot.  But I was intrigued by
the young guy, enough to ask about him whenever I bumped into the architect
on the stairs or when we were swapping DVDs.

Pretty soon I learn that the young guy's client list, even just within our
building, is quite extensive.  In the twenty-four apartments, there are
four families with young kids, three with teenage kids and three with grown
up kids.  There are four couples without kids, two gay couples (we being
one) two single gay guys who live separately and alone (including the
architect) two straight guys who share an apartment, a crowd of three party
girls who all work as cabin crew, and an old woman with a parrot.  Fuck
-- I won't bother you with all that shit.  The point is that there are 27
guys between the ages of 16 and 50 living in our block.

Take away from that the number the young dude's own brothers and father
(although, fucking hell, there's a few wank fantasies right there) and that
leaves a neat 24 -- one per apartment on average, and according to the
architect who heard it from the young dude himself, of those 24 he services
8 regularly and has worked ad hoc on a further 7.  Fifteen!  Jesus man, the
kid knows how to build up a business.  All done by word-of-mouth too.  Or
should that be skill-of-mouth.

Fifteen is all the more amazing because there are only six openly gay guys
-- two couples and two singles -- and that total of fifteen does not
include even all the gay contingent: I know I am not on his CV, and I'm
damn sure my man isn't either.  My man doesn't have orgasms I don't know
about; he's way too busy for a start, and I would see it in his eyes if
he'd been dropping his boxers for a teenager.  (OK so maybe he wanks off at
work -- who doesn't from time to time.  But no way is he into this kid.)

The architect tells me -- I'm pretty interested in all this, even though
it's irrelevant information as far as me and my man are concerned -- that
the women in the block are either absolutely in ignorance or completely in
denial, whereas the men are quite cool and open about it.  The architect
told me he had a conversation in the lift with one of the young fathers on
the north-facing side who had nothing but praise for this local business
enterprise.  And apparently the other cohabiting gay couple (Derek and
Julian their names are; they're younger than us and we kind of like them
but wish they wouldn't assume that being gay and in the same block means
they can borrow whatever they want) well apparently they book the dude for
a double hit once a week.  A hundred a week seems a lot to spend on head
when you can get it for free, but I guess that's their lookout.

Anyway it's Tuesday and the architect comes down mid-morning for a coffee,
which he often does on a Tuesday, it's sort of a social housewifey habit we
have -- he works from home and I pretend to, doing a bit of this and that
and keeping house and wanking a lot and checking out porn while my man is
out earning proper cash -- and I'm just frothing the milk for cappuccinos
and the architect says he's just had a good head job from the dude the
previous evening, and I ask how it was and the architect says it was a
full-on body shaker, and then he says, by the way, the kid wants to know
why you two aren't on his books.

Well just maybe we aren't on his books because we don't need to be, but I
like talking about hot stuff with the architect (he is always hopeful it
will lead to some action but I always know it won't) because he's a fellow
porn aficionado and wank addict.  You should give him a go, the architect
says.  I reckon he'd do you a freebie as an introductory offer.

I'm actually not interested.  I learned to suck dick well myself when I was
the dude's age, and so did my man.  We have all the dick sucking skills we
need in one house.  And for me and my man sucking a dick is not something
you do fully clothed on your knees without getting in to it.  When I suck
my man's dick, I am naked and horny and hard, and I want to shoot with him
and be part of it.  Often the taste of cum makes me shoot anyway.  And it's
the same when I get sucked.  The thought that the dude comes in, kneels,
unzips his client, administers the service, gets paid and leaves is
certainly hot and horny, but just not for me.

But then the architect says something that blows me away, and has me alert,
semi-hard, sniffing the air and wide-eyed as if I am on the horniest porn
hunt that any hot-blooded homo ever had online.

Man, you should really consider it, said the architect.  I have a video of
him doing his stuff on me if you fancy checking out the service first.

A video???  I pant.

Well, you know, a video clip which I took on my digicam, says the
architect.  I could mail it to you in sections, or burn it to a disc.

Yes yes yes, I gasp, for here surely is the ultimate porn experience.  A
teenager in my own block blowing my neighbour for cash.  I nearly cum just
thinking how hard I am going to wank when I get to see it.

Sure, said the architect.  I'll do you a disc and bring it down later.  Now
where's the coffee, and tell me, what the fuck were you two doing last
night -- sounded like you were banging the bed through the floor.

That was true.  The previous night me and my man had had a totally hard
sesh when I had spread my legs wide and let him go to town with his big one
up my hole.  Three times each we'd cum in a couple of hours, which was like
we were teenagers again.  Good job the parrot woman below us is deaf,
although on second thoughts we probably would still fuck that loudly even
if it were a house full of nuns down there.  I fill in the rest of the
coffee chat telling the architect about some boring rubbish, unable to stop
thinking about the video.  I can hardly concentrate all afternoon,
wondering when the point would come when I would have to give in and go
upstairs and ask him to hurry up with it.

But the architect is a man of his word, and about 4pm he was going out and
dropped the disc in on his way past.  Cheers pal, I said, already on my way
to open up my laptop even before the front door had clicked shut.

Truth is, porn is a near-religious experience for me.  In fact I take porn
far more seriously than religion: truly great porn can get me to a state of
sublime ecstasy and keep me there, and I can safely say religion has never
had that effect.  Studio porn can sometimes do it for me on that level (it
certainly used to all the time) but now I think by far the best porn is
amateur guys doing their stuff and then letting the world see.  Example:
the hottest porn I own currently is a DVD which came from a really
unexpected source.  We had a weekend in prague last year -- wtf you've
probably all been to prague, guys -- loads of gay guys do.  The city is
crawling with talent, and it's a cool place to go with your man and fuck
however you want.  The clubs and bars are open and liberal, and the saunas
have to be seen to be believed.  My man and I fucked in a sauna, and really
enjoyed the crowd around us.  We watched a few other guys afterwards, and
then relaxed in a tub together, kissing a bit.  A guy slipped naked into
our tub and said hot fuck you two had back there.  We said thanks pal.  He
said, party tomorrow night, a few guys like us, you two would be very
welcome.  He gave us an address, and left.  His ass was very tasty as he
lifted out the water.  My man and I do not play around, but I sensed that
if we were ever going to, it would be at something like this: a one-off
party on a holiday weekend, completely anonymous and horny.

We went to the party.  That party is not the point of this story, but it
was hot.  What the fuck guys, it was super fucking hot.  We did not play
with the other party goers, but we had sex for many hours in front of other
guys, and with other couples fucking around us and rubbing against us, and
with an open, honest and unthreatening feel to the whole thing.  The guy
who invited us was as good as his word -- there were about 20 of us, all
in our 30s, some hairy and some smooth but no twinks and no bears.  It was
just guys.  It was great.  On our way out at about 3.30am when the party
was still going strong, the guy asked for my email address.  I gave it to
him and thought no more of it.  A couple of days later I had a mail from
him that had gone to the whole group saying what a great evening it had
been, when the next party would be, and if we wanted a video, drop him an
address for him to send it to.

If we wanted a video???

I had not been aware of any cameras, but I'd been in the centre of a crowd
of hot guys fucking for about four hours.  Had there been a camera there?
I had to know.  I sent him our address.  A week later a packet arrived
postmarked prague with an unmarked DVD in it.  On the disc was an edited
version of the party: 2 hours of guys fucking, including me and my man.

It is the hottest porn I have ever seen.  If forced, I could reduce my
collection of several hundred discs to just this one.  It is stellar.
Fly-on-the-wall stuff -- the guys are not playing to the camera -- they
are just enjoying themselves.  Some of the fucking is bare, some is safe,
some of the cocks are average, a couple are mighty.  Some bodies are toned,
waxed and clippered, others natural, and all of the sound is awesome.  A
lot of the cumshots are missed -- they are internal, or lost in shadow,
or simply out of the reach of the camera -- for this is real sex, not a
studio concoction, and when a cumshot is actually caught on film it is all
the more exciting.  One features the largest cock in the room being sucked
by one guy, and it erupts over his face.  The sound of both guys is
amazing.  Then the camera moves on to a couple who were fucking, rubbered
up, just next to me and my man.  I think they had not met before the party.
They cum simultaneously -- one cock deep inside a hole, the other mashed
between two stomachs -- and though both cumshots are obviously missing,
the power of their orgasm is clearly caught on film and it is burning hot.
When the bottom is cumming, he stretches out, lost in fuck lust, and grabs
my own arm hard.  I had no memory of it happening, and seeing it on film is
scorching.

Me and my man have tried to watch it all the way through, but it is simply
too hot.  We end up fucking before twenty minutes is up.  One day me and my
man will get round to fixing up a cameraman we can trust, abstaining from
jizzing for a few days and make our own great fuck film, without the extra
cast.  But until that happens, I can get as hot as fuck when I watch all
those other guys doing it at that party in prague.  Why do I mention this
video at this point?  Because I had every reason to expect that the one the
architect had just handed me was going to be as exciting for me.

I knew the architect had a big cock.  I mean, I have never seen it, but the
other unattached gay guy in our block (Paddy, he's only 27 but acts like
he's 50) had a couple of dates with the architect, and he told me that the
architect is packing it.  Also, I mean, I wasn't born yesterday, there was
an agenda here.  Why would the architect be so keen to show me this video?
It surely can't be just because he wanted to advertise the kid's dick
sucking talents.  Of course the architect wants in our bed.  Once he even
asked all six gay guys in the building over to his place and suggested
taking some coke and seeing what happened.  He's a fuck maniac.  That's
cool -- good luck to him.  But we opted out.  So did Paddy I think -- I
don't know if Derek and Julian stayed and did anything in that direction.
Perhaps I should ask.

But even if I hadn't known the architect had a big one, I still would have
guessed he was hung just from the fact that he wanted to show me the vid.
I mean, did anyone ever go round trying to show a guy a vid if he only had
a tiddler?  Guys, I dunno on that.  I've known two guys with small cocks
and one with a very small one.  All of them were good lovers, and the one
with a very small cock (I would doubt his hardon was even 2 inches) was an
astonishingly agile bottom, like a gymnast on crack.  But I would say you
gotta be superconfident before you go round showing the world a vid of your
sub-2-inch cock.  So the architect was hung.  Who cares - he was not even
half the story.

How do you start a professional cock-sucking service at 17?  How do you
gain the confidence to go up to a guy and advertise your time?  How do you
know you're worth the cash if you only just started?  I wanted the answers
to these questions, and I wanted to know without trying him myself.  And
now the architect just handed me a vid of the boy at work.  It was too good
to be true.

The disc whirred in the laptop, and the player jumped into life.  First
shot was the dude, his dark hair pushed back off his forehead, looking as
hot as fuck, unzipping the architect who was obviously sprawled on the
sofa, clothed, legs wide.  The camera shot was low over his t-shirt-clad
chest and belly, straight into the dude's face.  The architect obviously
hadn't asked, because the first thing that happens is the dude says, man,
you gotta pay double if you wanna film it.  Sure, says the architect, and
the dude goes to work fishing out the rod.  The architect is soft, which
surprises me, because I am already as hard as a pole.  Even soft, the
architect's dick is sizeable.  Stretch it out, he purrs at the dude, and
the dark-haired stud does just that, pulling it clear of his bush for about
five floppy inches, and then going in with his mouth.  That's all you see
for a while, apart from the top of the dude's glossy, very dark hair, and
then about two minutes later the dude pulls off and a very large, angry
erection snaps straight back against the architect's stomach.  They both
moan.  The dude stops to remove his shirt; underneath he is wearing a black
muscle vest -- he looks hot as fuck and I could have wanked off just
looking at a freeze frame of him slipping his shirt off.  The architect
fumbles with the camera and the shot goes all over the place, and when it
steadies again he has lost all his clothing below the waist and pulled his
t shirt up to reveal his flat furry belly.  The dick rises like a fat tower
straight up from the bush, and the dude goes back to work.

Now I can see his style.  He uses his hands a lot, but not too much --
most of the work is done with his lips and tongue, but now and again he
takes a lot in his mouth, half the length maybe.  But it's what's missing
that fires me up.  I cannot see a teenage cocklust in his eyes.  When his
eye does catch the camera, he is embarrassed.  Is it possible that this kid
is not gay, and is seriously just earning cash?  The idea of that is
fucking hot.  What the hell happens to make a straight boy end up on his
knees?  Is he actually that true, rare, porn discovery -- an underage,
reluctant, broke straight boy?  I am so hot looking at him push his hair
out of his eyes and get back to work on the prong that I nearly lose it
right there.

Then things take a turn -- the dude goes to work on the foreskin, and I
wonder about him again.  He is an absolute foreskin master, and he looks
totally into it now too.  He must have a foreskin of his own to know how to
manipulate one so well, and he does it all with his tongue and lips, and
shows his ability clearly for the camera.  The architect is getting hot and
moaning porno stuff at the dude.  He pushes the foreskin right back over
the glans with his lips, and then swabs the cockhead with his tongue and
allows the foreskin to retract back over the head, now with his tongue
inside the skin, and then he rims his tongue round the cockhead under the
skin -- the skin is bulging and I can clearly see the tongue action under
the architect's slack hood, and then he closes his mouth around the whole
lot and chomps down rhythmically with his jaw, pulling hard with one hand
on the hairy nutsac.  He does this for about 30 seconds, and the architect
goes wild.  Just when I think the thing's gonna end early but happy, the
dude comes off the cock and grins like a film star at the camera, as if
saying -- hey man, I got timing too.  His hand works the long prong of
the architect in proper full length wank strokes, and the two converse
briefly while the dude stares at the fine piece in front of him, as if
wondering what pleasures he can cause next.

I change my mind now.  The dude is gay.  He's getting a lot out of sucking
the cock, sure, but the giveaway is he's getting more out of giving the
pleasure itself.  He doesn't want to be told that he is hot, or that yeah
he can suck dick -- he wants to be told oh my god that's amazing, please
don't stop, you have no idea what you are doing to me, that kind of stuff.
In a studio production of this blowjob, the soundtrack would be yeah, boy,
suck that cock, boy, and it would be the poorer for it.  In short, this
blowjob is not about the dude -- it's about the owner of whichever cock
he is working on, and when I get that, I totally understand the boy.  When
the architect yells oh my god oh my god that's amazing, the dude is glowing
from his own rush.  It's clearer and clearer that the dude is a giver.  He
wants to give pleasure.  He is actually getting off on the pleasure he is
causing.  I'm trying to imagine if the dude is hard or not -- he must be,
surely, if he's 17, gay, and with a large cock in his mouth.  But he has
not touched himself once -- he is focussed on the cock.  His hands and
mouth and tongue go into a superb act -- wank strokes that are topped off
with tongue, tongue-kissing the foreskin, hard knob-sucking that is
assisted by working the unused lower part of the shaft, constant attention
to the ballbag, and shifting his action from one thing to another every few
seconds in a whirl of spinning pleasure.

My dick is boned and leaking as I work it staring at the dude's efforts.

Then comes the moment.  He removes his hands, looks at the camera, and goes
for it.  I estimate the architect's dick is about seven and a half inches,
satisfyingly fat and with a champion cockhead.  It is not as large as my
man's cock, but it doesn't matter -- I know instinctively what fun the
architect must have had growing up with that.  I know other hung men too,
my man being one of them, and whatever they say to averagely hung guys like
me, I know that they love being hung, and it affects all aspects of sex for
them.  My man had no first night nerves when Paul, an old school friend of
ours, took my man to his bed when he was 18 and relieved him of his
virginity.  Paul was a tart who had been in many beds even though he was
only then 20, and he couldn't believe my man had gone this long without
some action.  But that was the point.  Men with big cocks don't need
reassurance.  They are not insecure.  They tackle stuff in their own time
and at their own rate.  My man let Paul fawn around him and make out for a
bit, and then he revealed his beautiful endowment, and Paul, the so-called
experienced party, was under its spell immediately.  The fuck that ensued
was all my man, and not much to do with Paul.  I know that because I have
heard the story from both of them, even down to the accuracy with which
they both described my man's orgasm: like dollops of hot mayo scalding
Paul's back.  That's my boy.

So I estimate the architect's dick to be a very decent one, but the dude is
up for it -- he just takes the head in his mouth, winks at the camera,
and goes down.  In three seconds his lips are scratting round the
architect's bush, and he is moaning like a bastard, his throat chocked with
cock.  This deep throat lasts for only a second or two, and then the dude
lifts off, smiles, and repeats.  The fourth time he does this, he settles
there, setting up a new action with his jaw and moving his neck so that his
head rocks a bit -- like a gently rolling industrial vacuum.  One hand is
still working the architect's balls, and I notice that the other, now there
is no need for it on the shaft, has gone down below, and I wonder if he is
fingering the architect's hole.  Seconds later I can see that yes, he is
-- there is a definite frigging action from his left hand.  Well,
straight boys just might suck cock if they were broke, but no way do they
finger a manhole. The dude is gay.  And what an amazing lover he is
already.

Not many guys can surely last long while being deep-throated, ball-tugged
and finger-fucked by a hot-as-fuck dark-haired 17 year-old stud puppy, and
I wondered when the architect was going to give up his stuff.  Listening to
the sound of his voice and watching the picture wobble crazily, it was
likely to be pretty soon.  I worked my own dick hard as I enjoyed the
blowjob the hottie was giving.  His deep throat was amazing -- no hint of
discomfort.  It took me a long while to get used to sucking a big one, but
this dude has got it right off.  Two or three times he partially released
the impressive hardon for a second, and then he was back down in the pubes
again -- and the killer was the time he stayed there, working his neck
and jaw like a bobbing dog, for close on a minute.

The architect was going oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah, nearly crying from the
need to cum and panting like a bastard, and I knew we were at the moment.
Suddenly the dude comes right off the cock and stares at it, working it
hard and fast with his hand.  Then he goes back to swabbing his tongue over
the exposed helmet, wanking the shaft even harder.  Oh YEAH!! The architect
was bucking his hips upwards and the picture was all over the place.  Oh
yeah oh yeah OH YEAH!!!! Suddenly there was a flash of white, and the
architect had started to fire his chunks.  The dude was staring intently,
his own arousal clear in his dark eyes, his hand going fast and firm on the
architect's rod, directing the volleys of cum over his own face and into
his open, gagging mouth, milking the shaft hard as the ropes of the hot
white stuff flew everywhere, the drips and drops scattering over his
eyelids and cheeks and nose and lips, and then when the architect's
punishing orgasm was nearly done, there was another alluring look at the
camera and the dude takes the cummy, pulsating cockhead back in his mouth
and sucks and sucks, his own head rolling in ecstasy.  After another
minute, the dude releases the softening cock, and the architect whimpers in
delight.  The boy lets a large quantity of cum roll out of his mouth over
the architect's balls, and from his nod to the camera, I realise that this
professional has not swallowed a drop.  He returned it all to the donor.

A professional, and a human being.  He's saving himself for someone, I
thought.  However hungry he gets for cock, however strong his cum lust, he
wants to test negative for some lucky boy when the time comes.

That made me cum.  He was a regular dude living in an apartment building
who realised he was gay and knew he had something to offer.  Nothing more.
Except he was scorching hot and had movie star looks.  My cum shot over my
chest, and I let my body fall into orgasm.

A couple of minutes later, I copied the disc to my hard drive as I do with
all porn lent to me by the architect.  I needed to be able to view this
blowjob again, and show it to my man.  Another one for the collection,
hotter than most for sure, but proof that the porn addiction was as strong
as ever.

A few days later, I met the dude in the lift.  He smiled that smile, which
I had already wanked several times over.  He couldn't know I had seen him
on video, could he?  Had the architect said anything?

Nice day pal, he offered, chatty like.  How's you and your man doin these
days.

We do fine, I said.

You got any odd jobs I can help out with?  I'm trying to earn a bit more to
get myself a car.  He smiled -- that movie star smile.

You mean, do me and my man wanna pay you fifty each for a some mouth work?

He looked pleased.  Yeah, that kinda thing, he grinned.

No way pal, I said to him.  We look after ourselves there.  I don't need to
shell out fifty for someone who's still learning.

He smiled again, nicely, but with a hint of that's your loss pal.

But -- I said.  I had suddenly had an idea.

He looked up, sharply.

I will pay you... I began.

He was all ears and eyes.

... to point the camera and film me and my man getting down to it.  If you
think you're man enough.  I smiled.

Just name the day, he grinned.

Fucking fantastic.  I can't wait to see the video.


*******


Thanks for reading this far.  If you enjoyed this and would like a list of
the other stuff I have archived at Nifty, feel free to mail me at
jsmith381@hotmail.com