Date: Tue, 31 Aug 2004 13:50:35 EDT
From: Bkcycler@aol.com
Subject: WHEN MEN FUCK  (under "Urination)

Don clutched his swollen dick through his pants, squeezed
his ass tight, arched up, grunted "Uhh ..Uh!..Ah!. .. Uhh ..
Uh!..Ah!" as if those were the words on the page he was
reading.

They were the words on his mind.

Born to fuck.

He kept himself in shape for it.  It wasn't that hard to
skip the carbs and work out: all he had to do was remember
what he really wanted in his mouth. Sometimes during his
workouts he would stop to writhe like a cougar caught in a
net, eyes shut tight, thrashing from side to side and
getting it, getting it in his ass, his mouth, his cock...

He looked hot.  He was.  A wide mouth, thick lips, and half-
shut, slinky eyes told the right guys all they needed to get
the signal that could within moments lock them in an I-don't-
give-a-fuck frenzy on the floor of wherever they were.

To change the focus of his eyes Don rested them on the
dresser across the room.  The curves of two sleek drawers
met and gradually shadowed together in the middle of each
row with only a thin dark line separating them.  Don's lips
stretched out to make a rigid circle as he darted his tongue
in and out and pounded his right hand, rounded into a fist,
against his crotch.

The phone!

It was Reg.

"Hey.  Just thinking about you."

A pause, then Reg laughed: "You fucking pervert piece of
toilet sewer shit!"

"Yeahhh!! Don purred ..Got some dirty hole for me, man?"

Reg knew what Don meant.  They had met two years before and
instantly clicked: Don got off on sucking ass, Reg got off
on getting his ass sucked. Yang and yin.   Sooner or later
each session Reg would tuck his dick back between his legs
so Don could suck from pisshole to shithole and back to
pisshole again like a starving toilet.  Then one time they
had started on their scene and Don suddenly tasted something
he had never tasted before: a stale muddiness that told him
Reg had decided to notch up the scene.

At last!!  Don had pushed in hard, forcing his mouth wide,
power-sucking to signal to Reg that he loved the
surprise.just think: a guy who had just finished sliding out
a nice long dump then setting up a treat for a buddy!. And
there they were, now, in sync, opened up to each other as
human beings rarely dare to be.  Unguarded and lost in each
other.  Reg was totally into getting eaten, pushing back and
muttering: "Oh baby eat my shit be my toilet man." Instead
of revolting him the sudden faint flavor of a shit taken
several hours before made Don want to fuse into Reg. You
never forgot a taste like that. They had moaned and
shuddered as Reg jacked double-speed and tightened his hole
and Don's dick shot and shot and shot until it went limp and
ached.

"Well," Reg began, "more or less."

"Hello?"

"OK," Reg went on, I met a guy last week."

"Tell me something I don't know!!"

"Will you just shut the fuck up, dickhead, and listen for
once?  This guy is inviting you and me to be in a scene-you,
me, and about a hundred or so other hot guys, OK?  And, not
only that; it's a business deal!  Listen, asshole! First,
he's from the leading gay studio-and, get this, they're
working with the pharmaceutical company-you know, the ones
that developed the vaccine and then gave it out for free--
that's ready to test something that makes Viagra look like
soggy cornflakes: a compound that lets you get it up hard
and cum like a monkey on steroids twenty times an hour if
you want, over and over again, all day and all night nonstop-
-for as long as you want, as many times as you want!  You
shoot your load and ten seconds later you're hard as steel
and moaning to shoot again, hot as a sixteen-year-old
sleazoid!  Then your dick tightens up again and you fuck as
fast as you can like there's no tomorrow and fire off five
or six bolts of cum and damn if you're not ready, right
away, again, like you'd been holding off for a week! .The
shit just doesn't quit!

"Holy shit!!"

"You got that right. And there's more: they've got money up
the wazzoo!  And, a totally secure--and very private--
Caribbean island.  They want to run final tests on their
compound with a lot of hot young gay guys so bad they'll pay
us each five thou just to let them fly us all there for a
weekend.  Wanna party?

"Is pig pork?"

"One thing.  They do want us to condition a little first.
Nothing weird: all we have to do is just watch our diet for
a few days before, a few do's and dont's."

"Like what?"

"Well, why don't you come on over for dinner tonight?  We
can go over it"

Dinner turned out to be one of Don's favorites, which did
mean a little cheating: pasta with pesto sauce, garden
salad, white wine. But Reg said it was high on their host's
recommended list.  Afterwards they divided up several
packets the company had sent ahead for their meals the next
day, and then for their breakfasts the morning of the
flight: herbed gourmet loaves fresh-sealed in foil, and a
packet of blended teas they were to use instead of coffee.
And all the orange juice they wanted. "What the fuck," Don
thought, "in for an inch, in for a mile."

"All right, then.  Meet me back here at noon on Friday.
I've reserved a limo for the airport. Just beach clothes.
Everything else you could want is already there, believe me.
"

Nothing unusual.

That is, until Friday morning.  Don discovered he really
liked the herbal tea, and he was sipping his second cup,
wandering here and there and nowhere in a waking-up haze of
brilliant bullshit thoughts, when nature suddenly called.
Urgent.  Heavy-duty.  He didn't even have time to close the
bathroom door, just pulled down his jockeys and slammed down
the seat and turned and squatted all in a single motion as
fast as he could. It turned out to be one of those nice,
easy, long ones:  no pushing, no straining, just relaxing
and letting his ass do its thing.  Sweet, and oh-so-
satisfying relief!! It kept on coming, and coming. And
coming. .And smelled interesting, too, and tangy, like he
wouldn't even have minded if somebody walked in right about
then!  "Ahh-hhh!!" Don grinned and sniffed the pesto from
two nights before, feeling the slick bulk of pasta, smelling
a nose-tingling pungent spice blend from the island bread,
citrus peel.rich, savory, and.so-oo...ooh fucking ripe!!
God he loved taking a shit!

Finally he pointed his dick back and down so his hot yellow
stream cut into the water and hit his glossy brown turds,
striking so hard foam mounded up and spray misted his
asscheeks..Terrific, to empty out so fucking totally!  It
felt so good!!..He remembered being a boy with other boys
admiring each other's dumps before they knew any
better.Finally he wiped, giving his loosened hole a few
fingerfucks and then lifting the brown smear on the folded
tissue to his nose: "I love my shit!!"

Yikes what a fucking pervert! If anybody knew!!  Don leaned
back against the cool porcelain tank, rubbing his tits,
sighing contentedly, feeling way better than he had felt in
weeks.

Even before the plane put down at Hamilton Reg and Don were
registering the vibes.  Either there was a major sports
event scheduled for that weekend in Bermuda, or most of the
other passengers on their flight were connecting with the
same private charter flight Reg and Don were scheduled for.

At least they could hope.  The other passengers talked
quietly in groups of two or three, but with a lot of
glancing around the cabin, sometimes catching Reg's or Don's
glances and then quickly looking away. And--maybe Don was
just imagining this-- the foot traffic up and down the aisle
did seem to increase as the flight wore on. ..Maybe.  It was
all Don could do to keep his dick distracted as he forced
himself to gaze out over the clouds.  He wondered about the
possibilities of the new drug anyway.  If it worked.  He
tried to imagine what it would feel like never having to
hold off on letting your cum shoot until you're in a scene
where you're really primed to fuck. Yes. It was pressure,
trying to hold off; you always had to remember not to lose
it while you trashed around in an orgy room and not shoot
off in a sweaty hump with some stranger... . "Hold out,
man!"  . "C'mon, don't waste it on that!.  And then
sometimes even driving home with your balls still aching to
explode.  What would it be like to walk around with a
serious volcano smoking away between your legs and know you
could keep on erupting for days?

Yeahhhh--what if it didn't matter any more?  What if you
could just whip it out and jam fingers way up into your ass
when you're home alone and look at sleaze porn and jack jack
jack jack jack all day and still know you had plenty of jazz
left to shoot with a roomful of other guys, over and over,
and over, all through the night?  .And on into the next day
if you wanted?  He could barely imagine it.  And imagining
piles of other out-of-control fuck-crazed sluts who no
longer had to ration their cum, never had to worry about
waiting for the right scene, was beyond his powers.

At the Hamilton terminal they found their way to the gate
for the private charter flight.  Most of the studs on the
flight down were gathering at the same gate.  Plus a busload
of hotties who must have been stars of Spanish soaps or
players in Caribbean ball clubs.  All crowding into the same
gate area, scoping their fellow passengers with supposedly
sly but sweeping stares and "discreet" murmurs of
appreciation.

 One of them suddenly raised his voice:  "Gentlemen!  Squirt-
Max Labs welcomes you to flight 69 to Pleasure Island!"

One of their hosts--who'd have thought?  "Flight 69 now
boarding!"

The pharmaceutical company's private jumbo jet was all first
class: everybody had room to sprawl.  For a short island
hop! A company video came on right away to prepare them for
the "Island Experience:" It started with a little history:
for thousands of years young Caribbean men from the
surrounding islands had periodically rowed their craft here,
to the mysterious and beautiful "T'eninchas" ("Young Man's
Dream") for sacred  rites whose details they always kept
secret.  In rites that present-day scholars are still trying
to understand, the young Caribs apparently deepened their
bonds of brotherhood with one another in ceremonies which
lasted about ten days, and always returned to their home
islands strikingly more at peace with each other and within
themselves. Their wives were always puzzled by the
transformation, but happy with the harmony the rites seemed
to bring about in their menfolk and knew better than to ask
questions.

The "Island Experience" video continued.  Every guest,
today, would have his own luxury suite in one of many
pavilions hidden around the manicured grounds in a random
scatter, with the indoor/outdoor casualness that the island
climate allowed: sleeping and "indoor" structures were
hardly more than canopies draped over mattresses on
platforms, and private snack bars. In an effort to live as
close to nature as possible and still be comfortable, the
"facilities" were simplicity itself: gently sloping natural
grassy basins here and there for taking a shit, and guys
were simply expected to use their discretion about pissing
pretty much anywhere they felt like. All the grounds were
under such strict environmental management that anyone could
wander around, anywhere, without ever having to worry about
critters, from the tiniest to the not-so-tiny, even near the
many small sheltered natural pools and basins fed by the
island's streams. Whatever did buzz or crawl or skitter
around just minded its own business as if humans weren't
even there. Even at night. But extra-large blankets were
stored in small enclosures throughout the grounds in case
anyone wanted to picnic during the day, or just lie back and
gaze up at the stars at night, when it got so dark nobody
could tell you were even there until they were practically
on top of you.

 The main buildings had fully-equipped gym/spa salons
staffed by world-class trainers and stylists for anyone who
might want to tone up or touch up during their stay. A
specialty of the styling salons was the sculpting and
shaping of body hair. That service was offered for free,
around the clock, along with "Erotic Enchantment" tattoos
for those who might be interested. All meals and snacks were
nutritionally balanced and prepared by four-star chefs who
competed to create tempting menus within the nutrition
guidelines.  The only restriction was that guests were
expected to refrain from really heavy alcohol and drug use
during their stay.

Don tried but couldn't think of anything they had
overlooked.  He stretched and arched his back in his seat
and squirmed down to enjoy the rest of the flight just as
the jumbo jet touched down on the airstrip of the private
island. They disembarked and were waved on to a nearly
invisible low-lying building wrapped in tiers of tree-shaded
verandas. The entire island was at an elevation high enough
to catch sea breezes all day in the sparkling sunshine and
high, dusty-pink ice-cream clouds.

Just inside what turned out to be the main building was a
large atrium where two tanned hunks in thongs hugged each
arriving guest and gave him directions to his own pavilion
and a map of the island.  "Dinner's back here at 8:00, very
informal.  Very, very informal", their receptionists
grinned, "like we are right now! You're free until then.
And, remember, after dinner there's going to be a talk on
the company's product, followed by a special free tie-in
demonstration from a Chippendale's trainer."

Don found everything just as the company's video had said it
would be and made himself at home and even did some
exploring.  But 8:00 pm came quickly, and he assembled with
the by now hundreds of guys like the ones they had seen at
the gate in the Hamilton airport-only now all wearing scanty
beachwear. Don's breath caught over and over as he took in
the cock-jolting dazzle of ass and cock approaching from all
directions, each guy more animal and fucky than the one
before.  The already-promising hospitality of the island was
rapidly expanding in dizzying new ways, and he had to fight
off a wave of doubt: could he really be in the same league
as these guys?  "Hey," he caught himself, realizing that all
of them had long ago crossed a line to where everybody was
already hot-it was just that each one Don saw was hot in his
own distinctive way. He waved shyly to some he thought he
recognized from the flight down, sometimes catching a
reassuring blush, or a grin, or a shy glance away, or even,
in one case, a wink.

What was it about ass anyway?  About a man's ass?  Don's
mind raced: twin bulging mounds of power-pack muscle
steadily pumping cock out from the other side as it pistoned
into a sucking mouth or another man's shithole or even a
guy's own firm grip, yes; but also, a hidden cave of nose-
tingling warm brown slick ripening deep between two tight
globes jutting back to be pried into by a face and sniffed,
yes; but also a moist hole twitching to be raped by a cock
or invaded by strangers' tongues and cocks all at once
licking and poking up close and personal, five or six guys
plugged every way they could into a sweating, humping trash-
pile..whatever it was all Don could do was keep looking
around for more.

To nobody's surprise, their hosts had deliberately mixed
strangers with strangers for dinner at many small low
platform tables surrounded by cushions.  Don's dinner
companions looked like they felt as relaxed as he did, and
got the point about mixing.  Hands reached across the table
once the four guys had found cushions and spread themselves
comfortably.

"Hi, I'm Raj," smiled one, his soft brown eyes glittering
with mischief.  "Hector," said the bodybuilder next to him,
"and you're Don," Hector continued, reading Don's nametag.
"Jerry!" said the one next to him as hands criss-crossed
over the platform-table and shook firmly.  Jerry was a
pinkish-white freckle-faced stud with auburn hair and blue-
green eyes who looked like he just might be a pro athlete.

"So, Jerry," Raj asked, his eyes intently scanning every
inch of his dinner companion, "how do you keep yourself
busy?"

"Play ball a little," Jerry said quietly.  "How about you?"
asked, licking his lips.

"Computer programmer!" Raj laughed, ".Surprise!"  Don and
Hector grinned, enjoying the joke, and wiggled back into
their cushions as Don slowly groped his balls and dick and
for a moment stared into the eyes of Raj, Jerry, and then
Hector. After a while Hector broke the stare and reached
casually for a large banana, slowly peeled it halfway down,
and licked around the tip several times, his eyes moving
lazily around the circle from one dinner companion to the
next. Don glanced back and forth from Jerry to Raj to
Hector, his pelvis visibly tensing and rising each time.

"Looks like everybody's having the same menu," Jerry said,
glancing around at the nearby platform tables.

"I sure liked the tea and bread they sent on ahead last
week," Raj said, and added "especially this morning!"

The four men's eyes locked.  After a moment, wide grins of
recognition.

"You guys too?!!" Hector laughed.  Don, Raj, and Jerry all
nodded, savoring a happy private memory from that morning
they suddenly realized they all shared.

Nobody said anything for a minute.  "Must be a hundred guys
here," Don said, finally.

"All eating the same dinner we are!"  Hector added, amazed.

"Yeahhh" Raj murmured dreamily, licking his lips.

"A hundred guys!  All eating the same things we've been
eating the last few days," Jerry rasped, his voice a hoarse
whisper.

Just then the room's p.a. system broke in.  Time for the
welcoming program.  The emcee looked about twenty-five, his
face a Tom Cruise or a young Ronald Reagan depending on the
angle you looked at him from.   His pelvis undulated back
and forth with every point he made as he talked into his
handheld mike: "In countless laboratory tests," he said,
"`Squirt-Max' has proved to be completely harmless.  No side
effects at all"

"What happens if you run out of cum?"

"Good question!  First of all, the compound stimulates your
prostate" the guy kept up his steady motion, "to quadruple
your cum."  He then shielded the side of his mouth opposite
his hand-held mike: "And, guys, I can assure you-that's
their way-under estimate! .But, as the party continues, what
eventually happens," he went on, "is that your bladder takes
over and lines up your piss to squirt out just like it was
cum, just like it was hot cum that keeps shooting and
shooting out of the end of your cock. So you can just keep
on fucking and fucking all you want.  Next question?"

"When should you take a break?"

"Just go with the flow, man, go with the flow. . "

Finally, "When do we get it?"

Of  course.

"Up to you," the speaker answered.  "It's in the snacks the
waiters are passing around right now.  And if you want to
wait until after the demonstration, no problem.  They'll
come around again."

Waiters were moving through the platform-table section with
what looked like trays of dessert pastries.

"Oh. One announcement. Squirt-Max is making a DVD as a
souvenir of your visit.  For the remainder of the weekend
you can do anything you feel like doing, whenever you want,
wherever you want, with whoever you want-but remember that
recording will be taking place in two settings, one outdoors
and one in a section of this dining area.  You'll always be
able to tell, because each session will be lit up with
studio lighting.  If you want to be in the souvenir DVD just
step into the action.  If you don't, that's OK too. But
everybody is welcome to a copy of the finished DVD whether
he is personally in it or not."

 "And now, since there are no more questions, let me
introduce Tyrone!  .Tyrone has moved quickly up the
Chippendale ranks, gentlemen, largely due to `Squirt-Max.'
and its fabulous performance enhancement! And so, without
further ado, let's give it up for .TY-RONE!"

The lights around the dining area dimmed.

A 6' 1" chiseled bronze god with jerry curls, Tyrone's
widely-spaced almond-shaped green eyes swept evilly around
the room he owned the moment he strutted in. His wide
shoulders and bulging upper arms made his pastel blue tank-
top, which ended in a boy-sized waist, look three sizes too
small.  The flat line of his stomach continued unbroken down
past his waist to a bulging coil of dick in his tight-
fitting cargo shorts, while on the other side his ass
exploded outwards, puckering out and up in twin masses of
tight, curved, perfect roundness.  Tyrone paused, allowed
time for his guests to take him in.

Tyrone gazed as his audience for what seemed like a minute,
and then, still gazing intently into the faces of the dinner
guests, slowly reached back with one hand and groped his
butt, reaching down with the other hand to grab his balls
and dick in one grip. His hands remained where they were as
he gradually started to twitch back and forth, back and
forth, to a disco beat that was slowly increasing in volume.
The bulge in his crotch doubled. Tyrone began to look like
he was at the end of and under the control of that thick,
massive cock, as if he was a puppet being jerked helplessly
back and forth by it.

 "Uuh!"  "Uuh!" he panted, already losing himself in a one-
man fuck.

Funally, nothing to do but let his prisoner out. Both hands
moved to his belt buckle, and in a moment the fly of his
cargo shorts was open. He tugged them down, let them fall to
the floor, and stepped aside out of them.  Tyrone's 10-inch
stiff, curved-back cock swayed free, jutting out of a thick
mat of tightly curly and glistening black hair; velvety-
smooth, its purple piss-lips glistening with sticky clear
beads that began to slowly thread downwards.   Tyrone thrust
his pelvis forward, lurching and lunging toward different
parts of the room.  (Everybody's in this one, baby!!)  After
about two minutes Tyrone turned around and bent way down and
spread his ass to give everybody hole.  Surprised, shivering
yelps escaped from various tables around the room

He turned and straightened up, snapped his head back, and
suddenly yard-long ribbons of white shot across the room in
different directions as the entire lower part of his body
snapped forward violently over and over.

Smiling happily at his audience, Tyrone gyrated his hips to
exhibit his beloved centerpiece, his cock.  "Now I wanna
fuck!!" he yelled.  It stood out ten inches, tight and
purple-red. "Anybody wanna get fucked?"

Don watched as Raj ripped off his spandex swimsuit and
lurched forward from their table while a guy from another
table hopped toward the spotlight as if tugged by his
monster bucking dick.  When the men reached Tyrone the both
turned around as if on cue, bent forward, and reached back
to pull their cheeks flat. Tyrone bent down and sniffed from
one hole to the other. Don could swear he was getting whiffs
of their ripe ass-stink himself.  Tyrone straightened up,
then jammed his tight cock up into Raj's ass and hammered
savagely, grinning joyfully out at the diners. Raj arched
and twitched from side to side as Tyrone pumped him in a
sweating blur and then suddenly pulled his shit-slicked ten
inches out and impaled the other guy so suddenly he screamed
in pain, but clamped his ass so tight Tyrone couldn't have
pulled out even if he wanted to.

Don started getting whiffs of sour cinnamon sweat from many
directions in the room at once.   Ass! .No, not just one ass-
-asses!!!  He could hear whimpering in short, tight gasps
all around the darkened dining area. Slick, regular slapping
sounds overrode the butthole stink, mixing with pulsing
waves of disco throbbing through the warm air.  Don's own
hole felt pinpoint-tight hot and his crotch began to feel
tense and queasy.  He was desperate for relief in his own
butt-slit.

Suddenly a hard cock pushed up against his hole.  Without
even looking around Don shoved back against the cock and
felt it pop in.  He yelped at the burning sensation but kept
pushing back insistently as the stiff rod quickly occupied
his rectum.  A mild nausea washed over him for a moment as
his ass sucked in the stranger's cock.  It rammed deep into
him in the opposite direction his shit always travelled, but
his nausea was quickly replaced by an angry, primitive joy
as Don kept grinding back to let his new lover know he
didn't want him to stop. Instead, Don wanted that cock to
take complete charge of him, to rip into him and satisfy
only itself, to use his body any way it wanted as its
personal fuckmeat. The guy reached around and rubbed Don's
nipples with his palms while he scratched his own nipples
against Don's broad back and licked his neck.  Don reached
back to pull the guy's ass even closer, but he couldn't
reach far enough to cup the cheeks of the guy's ass and
instead just had to hold the hollowed sides of the guy's
muscular, rutting butt.  Don did stretch his head around so
he could push most of his opened mouth against the
stranger's opened mouth and they could suck each other's
protruding tongues.

Two other guys standing and fucking a few inches from Don
and the stranger leaned into them to kiss them without
breaking the rhythm of their own fuck.  Don and his new fuck-
buddy returned the two guys' kiss, pulling the guys toward
them possessively, sucking together at the two open, sucking
mouths, four men all instantly in love with each other in a
spur-of-the-moment mutual fuck attack.

Don heard a hissing sizzle and realized that another guy,
who was standing on a table next to the four kissing and
sweating fuckers, was pissing on the floor.
The guy cornholing him slipped a hand down to Don's crotch
whispered: "Oh baby, piss into my hand like he's doing-and
shit on my cock! Please!"  Don had been needing to piss and
it felt good to release hot urine into the guy's cupped
hand.  He wondered if he had any shit he could push down on
the guy's cock, and also strained to shit whatever was
stored in his rectum.  Don loved the thought of taking a
shit on anybody's cock; he loved the stink of his own ripe,
fragrant shit anytime, enough to fantasize, often, checking
out the stinks of other guys' raw turds.

The fifth guy standing on the nearby platform table had
heard the whispered invitation and said: "Hey guys!  I just
got fucked!  Want me to blow the guy's load back out of my
hole into your mouths while you all keep kissing each
other?"

"Ass? You guys wanna suck the cum out of this guy's dirty
shithole??"

The four started slamming at each other even harder, nodding
clumsily and groaning to admit that the mouths they were
kissing each other with also wanted to be a set of toilets
for any hot guy who might feel like blowing the contents of
his rectum their way.  They lingered in the lowlife filth of
the messages that were flashing back and forth as they
pumped and pumped against each other: "Yeah!  We're all
toilets! Just toilets fucking other toilets!"

Don couldn't help it, the talk was getting to him, his cum
racing through him, steaking nonstop from far back in his
ass towards his cock and straight through his cock and,
whether he wanted it to or not, out, out, out in stinging
bolts of thick cream that broke two feet in front of him in
downward L-shaped blasts emptying his hairy nuts in every
direction.  The guy fucking him struggled to keep his
footing as he compensated for Don's bucking fuck-thrust by
pushing to keep his cock inside Don's squeezing ass because
his own cum was shooting too.

Don and his fucker leaned against each other and panted like
racehorses as Don slowly turned and they got their first
look at each other's faces.

"Hey!"

"Hey, yourself, dude!! ..You're fucking hot!!"

"You too, fucker!!  Holy shit!  Do you really look like
that?!  Damn!"

Both men glanced down.

Something new was going on.

They felt it.  And they could see it.  Their dicks were
swelling, stiffening, starting to arch back tight, cocks
that would ordinarily have shrunk down to ache and be limp
to recover from the dynamite seizure they had just shared.
"I wanna fuck so bad!" Don growled, "this shit really
works!!"

The guy gave him a goofy smile.  They began jamming their
crotches together, each guy cupping the other one's butt and
fingerfucking his hole.  They raised the fingers to their
noses, then moved their faces together so both of them could
sniff raw the shit-stink from both their holes as the same
time.

"This is so hot!! Wanna find some guys and gang-bang, babe?"

"Oh yeah, man," Don moaned.  "I love to group fuck!

What Don loved was knowing that others guys, too, loved the
crude slam and bruise of  getting plowed and rimmed and
eaten all wedged up against each other, degraded and groping
blindly for sleaze, wanting the whole world to see them
writhe
and lose it together in brazen dripping rut.

"I see a couple of studs watching us already. Tell you what,
you bend over so I can suck my cum back out of your hole;
then, we straighten up and kiss so we can spit it back and
forth into each others' mouths--looking over at them all the
time while we're doing it.  OK?"

The other two guys got the message loud and clear.  They
grinned and nodded.  They had already started round two, and
kept fucking hard while the two couples lurched toward each
other, all four guys looking around the room eagerly to
invite even more guys to join in. The room was catching on:
no one had to stay in control, everybody now knew
everybody's cum-gun was stuck on "on."   Now, wipeout fucks
just made everybody in the room want to orgy more and more
with whoever was nearby like supercharged two-bit whores.
The four strangers' eyes shone as they paraded their own
boned-up cocks for each other to see and fell in love with
each other's cocks, knowing that in another minute they
would be cumming together in a tight suck-fuck, and then a
few minutes after that break apart to move on to find still
other guys' armpits and shitholes to sniff in a nonstop
scramble like puppies tumbling haphazardly over and over
onto each other.

Don noticed he was already getting used to having a new
hardon moments after a shuddering, crazy-ass cum. And,
something was beginning to make sense for the first time in
his life: for years he had just taken for granted he was
already Mr. Gay Liberation--Stud Inc. of Greater Boston--and
so was way politically beyond guilty hang-ups about getting
into kinky scenes. The whole nine yards: anybody who might
have had a problem with him on that score was seriously
fucked up themselves.  But what he had never really
understood, until now, was that his usual after-cum fatigue
had always felt like one last scolding finger waggling in
his face, as if his body was always preaching the old
straight-and-narrow no matter how liberated he was in his
mind.  Yes, he had understood for years that people who
looked down on him or rolled their eyes at him for being a
"horn-dog" were totally full of shit--but even then his own
cock would quit before he got to most of the scenes he
wanted, as if it knew better than him!  Don hated that.

Now it was all different.  From the waist on down, and for
the first time in his life, his body matched the rest of
him, and it felt good!  His dick stood ready, bobbing up and
down as he walked around and re-visited the evening's scenes
in his mind.  He could have it both ways!  All the time!  At
last!

Don stepped out into the warm Caribbean night to be alone
for a while and linger in the sweetness of seeing how it all
came together.  Looking out to about where the horizon
should be he could see the ocean, broken bands of moonlight
streaming across it in arcs of white ripples that got
smaller and smaller to point directly at him.  He knew the
moonlight really wasn't pointing at him, and tried to
remember the reason it always seemed to. Whatever.  The musk
of night flowers, honey-jasmine with faint undertones of
coal-tar mixed with sweet, stale piss, and the urgent back-
and-forth mating calls of unseen creatures, tiny bleats and
sawing buzzes, heightened his sense of earthy, primitive
innocence.  He pulled his speedos down to free his cock and
let his ass gleam in the moonlight and, grinning, retuned
God's wink.

Don both knew and didn't know where his steps were taking
him now as he walked along jacking his cock, speeding up,
then slowing down, then jacking faster again..  Well, yes,
of course, he had already used his map to check out the
location of one of the grassy inclines where guys were
supposed to take a shit.

But so what?

He tried not to think about it.  But he did think about it.
..

Well???

Oh God.

Shit...? Could he really ready for that scene??

He could tell he was getting close to the grassy spot.
Intoxicating waves of tangy, rich spices with  underwhiffs
of old metal.  His heart was pounding.

Oh man, brown turds sliding out of turdholes everywhere Don
looked!!  Warm, and slick!

"We're here, man!  Look at us shit, we're fuckin
doin''it!!!."

So OK.  Don was where he wanted to be: on the edge a serious
toilet scene. One big- time HOT SHIT-STINK FUCK!!!.

He wanted it!!  God knows he had thought about it, a
thousand times at least.  Just in the last few weeks!  Yes!!
He wanted knockout stink smeared on his face so his eyes
stuck out like a raccoon surprised in the middle of the
night. It was so fuckin,' stinkin' hot!!

"Oh, yeah!!!"

The studio lights were already on, highlighting a patch of
fantastic shitting and farting young asses in varying stages
of letting go long, thick coils of soft male dumps and
hosing out piss from the other side-and lying underneath
them hot trash thrashing up down and sideways, bucking back
and forth in moaning loudly in a delirium of shooting cum in
every direction.

Don looked and knew that it was his scene: shit, cum, piss,
farts.whatever came out, whenever it came out, any opening
it came out of.!!

He recognized old friends, guys from his table: Reg ..and
Jerry, Raj,. Hector.All right!! Yes!! Ass. Cock. Shit and
piss!!

And jumped into the granddaddy of all pick-up games, the sly
razzle-dazzle extravagance of grownup boys competing to set
new world fuck records, amazed at and amazing each other, no
pussy-ass time outs this time. What was it about male-to-
male sleaze?  Always a team sport, Don knew, one-on-ones
only practice, little me's-and-you's a waste of precious
orgy time.

Guys were catching turds in their palms as they reached out
to the nearest asses, lifting the brown piles to their noses
and sniffing, trading, smiling as strangers reach over and
rub each other's ass-cracks greedily to exchange more
handfuls of stink.  Guys were standing and dancing from one
partner to the next and fucking violently, deliberately,
because there was always more hole to fuck, more stink to
smell.and then more ass, more cock.

Welcome to Pleasure Island.