Date: Thu, 28 Sep 2000 20:26:49 -0400 (EDT)
From: Marc <Rim4you@webtv.net>
Subject: In The Heat Of Man (Part 1)

Disclaimer:

The following story deals with homosexual acts and fetishes which some
readers may find objectionable.  Therefore, if mansmells, watersports
and scat offend you and if you are under the age of eighteen, STOP HERE!
You have been WARNED!

In The Heat Of Man
By Rim4you

It was a hot, muggy summer night.  The crowd at The Shaft, the most
notorious bar in town, wasn't overcrowded.  The number of men here, in
this levi-western bar, was just right.  Just the right amount of space
between the predator and the prey, between the captor and the captive.

I strode into the bar prepared for anything. To hunt or to be hunted.

"Hey, Robby!"  The bartender cried out with a smile on his face,
gretting me.

"Hi, Josh!"

"You're usual?"

"Yeah!"

"One Icehouse comin' up, Robby!"

As Josh placed my beer in front of me, he motioned for me to lean closer
to him.

"What's up, Josh?"

"You outta check out the new kid on the block.  Says he just got moved
into town and from the looks of him, I thought about you!"

"Really?  So where is this stud?"

"He's out back on the patio.  You can't miss him.  All the familiar
faces are here tonight.  But this guy ..."

"Sounds promising, Josh."

"Guys have been tryin' to hit on him all evening but there's something
about him that seems impenetrable."

"Oh!  And you suppose that I can penetrate what others haven't?"

"Trust me, Robby!  If anybody can, you will."

"You're that certain, huh?"

"If I wasn't stuck behind this side of the bar tonight, I'd have snagged
him first!  But seein' how that I am, I thought about you, buddy, seein'
how we speak each other's language!  Know what I'm sayin'?"

"Gottcha!"

With that, I picked up my beer, nodded to Josh and headed towards the
patio.

"Go for it, stud!"

I looked back at Josh and winked at him.

Chapter Two

Thank God the crowd in the patio was sparse.  I nodded to the familiar
faces I recognized, who in turn cocked their heads towards a lone figure
seated on a bench leaning against the wooden fence in a corner shrouded
in darkness.

I took a position opposite him and leaned against an old oak tree and
studied him.  Watched him.  Likewise I had the protection of the night
to conceal my gaze.

He sat with one booted leg raised and bent at the knee on the bench.
The other leg sprawled out straight on the ground beneath him.  His
bottle of beer, like an erect cock, he craddled on his crotch.

His levis, from what I could see, were ripped at the knees.  Perhaps he
had other undetected tears?  From my vantage point I could see that they
fit him very well like a second skin.

His plaid, flannel shirt was cuffed at the elbows and unbuttoned down to
his waist, revealing in the pale summer moonlight, a chisled chest
swirling with fur.

I searched for his face but the brim of his cowboy hat obliterated that.
I was intrigued with this man.  So aloof.  So unto hmself.

Slowly I made my approach.  I circled the patio keeping my distance from
him.  Allowing him his space.  His territory.  As my circle became
smaller and my intrusion upon his turf became inevitable, he raised his
head and our eyes met in a prolonged gaze of complete silence.

I sucked in the night air, heavy with its humid acridness.  Within the
space that he had marked as his, as his domain, I detected a certain
muskiness.  A clearly marked scent.  The heat of man!

I tilted my beer to my lips and sensuously took a swallow as if the
bottle were a rigid cock passing between my lips.  In like manner the
stranger did the same, our eyes still riveted upon each other.

Slowly.  Silently, he slid up, planting both feet squarely on the
ground, legs spread and leaned back.  He cocked his head sidewards and
down which I took as an indication, an invitation for me to enter his
domain.

I stepped forward and lowered myself beside him.

"Denver," he whispered, in a deep, yet soft voice, "I'm Denver."

"Robby," I responded.

In the silence the chemistry between us was building without the need
for the spoken word.  Two animals in heat had converged.  Who would be
the captor?  Who whould be the captive?  Who would be the aggressor and
who would surrender?

We sipped our beers in silence.  No conversation.  Yet in that silence,
in our closeness we perceived  the heat, the fire of one man to another
that needed to be quenched.

The heavy scent that surrounded us.  Was it the night air?  Or was it
the animal musk of man?

"Come,"  Denver said, rising.

I followed him through the door leading into the bar, which in so short
a time, was rapidly filling.  The sound of raucous debauchery wafted
through the room.

"Robby!"  Josh hollerd, amid the tumultuous voices and beat of the music
from the blaring jukebox.

I turned towards the sound of my name and saw Josh wink and smile
approvingly at me.  I nodded my head towards Josh and followed Denver
out of the bar into the stillness and quiet outside.

Chapter Three

We headed towards the parking lot and  towards a black Silverado where
he stopped, leaned against his truck and waited for me.

I didn't want to seem over anxious so I paced myself slowly, allowing
him time to re-establish his turf.  As I approached him, he hooked his
thumbs into his pockets and seemingly thrust his crotch forward.

I entered his inner circle, eyes locked upon his and stepped up to him
and pressed my crotch against his.  He leaned back against his truck
thrusting his basket against mine.

We did not grind our crotches together.  Rather we just stood there
facing each other, the bulges between our legs meeting and touching one
another.  Grazing one another.

Without a word, Denver wrapped his arm around my waist and nudged me
closer to him.  I took one step forward.  In doing so, our crotches
became firmly pressed to one another.  He smiled.

The heat that followed made me tremble but I stood my ground gazing
deeply into his eyes.  I felt a warmth from between his legs.  I
welcomed it and pressed myself more firmly against him.

As my senses detected his action, I encircled my arms around his waist
and pulled him towards me with a jerk.  Lowering my head towards his,
our lips grazed each other's, brushing lightly.  Then as the warm
sensation I felt between my legs became more intense, our mouths made
contact in a deep, wet kiss.

Denver was taking a piss.  His golden nectar gushed from his cock,
soaking his levis and mine.  I could feel his warm fluid wetting the
material of my jeans and running down my legs into my boots.  It was
only then that I ground my crotch firmly against his and moaned into his
mouth.

Our act was sealed.  Denver was the captor.  I became the captive.  In
his complete silence, he was the aggressor and I surrendered.

His stream seemed never ending.  As if he had saved himself for this
very moment.  It's rank muskiness, coupled with our sweat from the
humid, muggy night, drifted into my nostrils and drove me heady with
lust.

As we broke our kiss and his piss flow subsided, I stepped back to
admire ourselves, wet and rancid.  Again Denver smiled and reached down
to grope his wet crotch.  Lifting his wet palm to my face, he rubbed his
hand over my lips.  My tongue darted out and licked his hand savoring
the flavor that his cock had spat.

"Follow me!"  He whispered.

I nodded.  Turned and headed towards my car parked but only a short
distance from his truck.  As I slid into the driver's seat and put my
key into the ignition and the roar of my engine revved, I thought to
myself:

"Tonight I will know the heat of a man!"

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

I welcome your comments and feedback.  Write to me at Rim4you@webtv.net