"We have reason to believe that man first walked upright to free his hands for masturbation."

Friday, March 16, 2018

All Male True Experience: Working Stiff

By: Unknown Author

I work in a large, all-glass building in the city, surrounded by other all-glass skyscrapers. In my job, I often have to work late, being at the office all alone most times when I do.

One night a few weeks ago, I was working late again, when something unexpected happened. I was alone by this point, and, sitting at my desk in my private office, tired after an already long day, I decided to take a short break, and went and grabbed myself a coffee.

Once back in my office, sitting in my chair sipping my coffee, my mind began to wander a bit, specifically onto sex with my wife. These thoughts of fucking the wife brought on an unwelcome stirring in my trousers, as my cock, with a mind of its own, responded to the mental images flowing through my head. Without even consciously thinking about it first, I gave my cock a quick rub through my trousers, which only succeeded in encouraging it to journey its way to a full hard-on.

I jack off a lot more than I get to fuck the wife – working late quite often and with my wife wrangling two young children all day, sex didn’t happen as often as we, or at least I, would like - and when I get hard like this, I know that I’m not going to be able to concentrate on whatever else I’m doing at the time unless I take care of it first. So, I knew a quick jack off was in order before getting back to my work.

I’d jacked off in my office quite a few times before when all alone and working late, and, after locking my office door – since there was a cleaning crew somewhere in the building – I made my way back to my desk and proceeded to undo my belt, unbutton and unzip myself, and then eased down my gray suit trousers to my knees.

Underneath my pants I was wearing boxers, and I gave my stiff cock a squeeze through the fabric, feeling it throb underneath, then pushed my boxers down as well, sat down in my chair, turned it sideways to the desk, slouched down, stretched out my legs, wrapped my hand around my prick and started jacking off.

As I sat there beating my meat, something caught my eye and I turned my head to see that a light was now on in an office opposite - Environmental laws where I live require office buildings to turn off all lights at night on any unoccupied floors, so the building across had been mostly dark, and this had never happened before, nor had it ever been a thought or concern when jacking off in my office - and there was a man in that office, a cleaner, obvious by the uniform he was wearing, who was standing right in front of the window, watching me!

Thursday, April 28, 2016

All Male Fiction: Roommates (Part 1)

"Secret Rendezvous"

By: Ryan Michaels

It had been a long week and I was glad it was finally Friday! Even better was that my boss had let everyone go home early, which was an unexpected and much appreciated bonus. I literally breathed a sigh of relief when I walked through my front door, happy that it was the weekend; not that I had any major plans, other than sleeping in and maybe going out on Saturday night and trying to get laid. Tonight, though, I just planned to relax, and I was going to start the process by taking a hot shower. Not only would it help to relieve some of the day's tension, but I really needed one, too - it was a swelteringly hot day, and being crammed on a bus that was packed like sardines had left me sweaty all over.

I went right to my room and stripped off all my clothes, putting them directly in the hamper. I hated the habit that my roommate, Mark, had of undressing in the bathroom and leaving his dirty clothes on the bathroom floor, and that is why I always took my clothes off in my bedroom before showering. I suppose I could have undressed in the bathroom and carried my clothes back to my room after, but that seemed like an extra, unnecessary step.

The fact that I had a roommate didn't hinder my practice of venturing from my bedroom to the bathroom completely naked. And, there was no way to avoid crossing his path if he was in the living room: We lived on the main floor of a house, which had been retro fitted as apartments. My bedroom was in what used to be the dining room, right off the end of the living room. Mark's bedroom was also off the living room, on the back wall in what had originally been designed as a den or office space. The large eat-in kitchen had been split in two, with one half being turned into a bathroom. So basically all rooms – kitchen, bathroom, and both bedrooms – faced the living room, and you had to pass through the living room to access them.

Mark didn't care that I would walk through naked and never gave me a second glance. In fact, I think he made a point of diverting his eyes, for which I was glad - I may not have had any issue with him seeing me naked, but I certainly didn't want him checking me out. The fact that we were both straight, and such good friends, allowed me such comfortable casualness.

I looked at the time before leaving my bedroom. It was almost 4:30. Perfect! That gave me about an hour before Mark got home - usually, he got home before me. Naked, I left my bedroom and strode across the living room to the bathroom.

Turning on the shower, I got the water nice and hot and stepped into the spray. I wet myself down and began to lather the soap on my body. When I soaped up my dick, I let my hand linger a bit and it didn't take too long before my cock responded and started to grow. I gave it a few loving strokes but then let go of it and finished washing myself. I had stopped on the way home and rented a new porno and wanted to save my load until after my shower, so I could beat off in front of the TV watching it.

And, I was really looking forward to it, too, because I always had to do it in the bathroom either at the toilet or in the shower - Mark was the type of guy who would knock and then open the door before waiting for permission to enter. He had almost walked in on me beating my meat once, but thankfully I had just started playing with myself and still had the sheet and bulky comforter over my naked body, so he hadn't seen what I was doing – but that was too close for comfort - and from that point forward I always jerked off behind the security of the locked bathroom door when he was around. Doing it sprawled naked on the couch with porn playing on the flat screen was such a rare treat. Thinking about it had my cock raging, so I quickly rinsed the soap from my body and shut off the water.

As I stepped out to dry off, I heard the front door open and bang shut and I cursed under my breath. Mark, of course, had every right to come home, but I was pissed that he had done so before he was due, because now I couldn't jerk off, at least not in the way I had planned. At that moment, I wished I had jerked off first and then taken a shower, but I had felt grimy and wanted to get the dried sweat off first… and thought I had plenty of time to do both. I still needed to get off, though, and it looked like I was going to have a date with the toilet, instead. At least the steam from the shower had quickly dissipated through the open bathroom window, so I wouldn't end up soaked in sweat all over again.

As I began to dry off I could hear my roommate talking to someone, so I put my ear to the door and listened. I would never normally do that type of thing; I respected my roommate's privacy and, quite frankly, I usually didn't give a crap about what he was saying when he had a friend over. I just wanted to find out if it was a girl or one of his buddies. If it was one of his buddies, there wouldn't be a problem walking out in just a towel. But, if it was a girl, I would have to wait. I had done that once before, and he got mad at me after, asking me to not just barge into the living room wearing only a towel and a smile if he had brought a chick home. In those situations, he asked that I wait in the bathroom until they went to his bedroom, which we both knew would be right away. While he had some of his buddies over from time to time, the only time he ever brought a girl home was to fuck her, and he always did that behind closed doors.

Even though I was straining my ear to hear, the sounds were muffled so I quietly twisted the doorknob and opened the door a bit. I could hear Mark talking softly, but I had not heard the voice of whomever he was talking to, yet. I would have to stay trapped in the bathroom and keep listening until the other person spoke, so I would know if it was ok to venture out or not.

Now if only the other person would say something, but Mark wasn't letting them get a word in. He was just rambling on and on about something, in a soothing voice, but I still couldn't hear exactly what he was saying. I was assuming he was trying to convince a nervous girl to go through with the sex he had brought her home for.

Suddenly Mark moved his position in the room, and I could now clearly see him, but not the other person. I knew I was probably right about what he was doing when I heard him say, "Have you ever done this before?"

It was at that point that I finally heard the other person speak - the first time Mark had let them speak - and it was another guy. I knew that Mark was trying to find someone to hook up his new surround sound system, so I figured that's what they had been discussing when he had asked the other guy if he had ever done it before. Since it was another guy, I was just about to make a bee-line for my bedroom when the male stranger said, "Yeah, I've given blowjobs a couple of times before."

Thursday, March 3, 2016

All Male Fiction: Alex's Game (Part 2)

By: sebastian_wallace & Ryan Michaels

Alex looked down at my dick as though to reassure himself that I was still aroused by this. Finding that I was - my little pencil was still poking upright in my briefs - he went on, "There's something weird about the slit on the head. It's kind of underneath it. I think it has something to do with my cock being so huge. You wanna see it?"

I'd never heard anything about this, even though I'd had dealings with cocks of many different shapes and sizes over the years. It was probably something unique to his own cock, which he just assumed was a consequence of its size; maybe a birthmark or a scar from a long-forgotten injury. I was intrigued, though, and figured it couldn't hurt to take a look, especially considering what had already transpired.

I shrugged. "I suppose so. But after that, we go back into the exam."

He smiled and said, "Yeah sure, whatever," and then, with his hand still on my shoulder, he began pushing down on it and said, "You'll have to kneel down on the floor to see it, though."

My knees began to buckle from the pressure he was exerting on my shoulder. "Yeah, kneel down," Alex urged as I began to willingly bend, lowering myself down until I felt the sharp coldness of the tile floor against my knees.

I peered intently at Alex's large, gently-pulsating organ. The smell of it - the sharp but inviting odor of the sweat in his pubic hair - was quite powerful as I stared closely at his piss slit. I didn't see anything unusual, though, and told him so.

"Take a look at it close up and you'll see," Alex replied. He was insistent, putting his hand on my head, as if to guide me towards the incongruity I was trying to find. He pushed his hips towards me so that his cock, now swollen to its full impressive size, was within an inch of my face.

I opened my mouth to tell him that I still couldn't see anything unusual, when Alex grabbed my head firmly and pushed his cock into my mouth. He slid it in and out a few times, no doubt feeling me resisting it in the initial shock of finding myself invaded by him, and then feeling me responding to him by urgently sucking at it as the pleasure of what he was doing overwhelmed me.

Still holding my head, he pulled his cock out of my mouth and swiveled my neck so that I was staring up at him open-mouthed. "You like that?" he asked. "Do you? Yeah, of course you do," he smirked before letting me answer, and then pushed himself back into my mouth.

I fed hungrily on his cock, as eager to pleasure it as if I were worshipping it; smothering it with my tongue and drinking the slow dribble of pre-cum down into my throat.

Alex soon bent over me as I blew him, and I heard him suck at one of his fingers before groping down my back to lift the bottom of my shirt and grope around my ass. He quickly located my asshole, hot and sweaty at the base of my ass crack, and pressed his moistened finger into me.

Perhaps sensing my intense pleasure at feeling myself penetrated and the eagerness to receive more, Alex stated, surprisingly calmly, "Stand up."

I did as he said, and watched as he reached down into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. From that he extracted a condom – a Trojan Magnum condom - and, with a practiced hand, quickly opened the wrapper and rolled the rubber down the length of his oversized prick.

Friday, January 29, 2016

All Male True Experience: Strokin' in the Boy's Room

By: chicagobasil

I was walking along a busy downtown street and I suddenly felt the need for a little bit of relief, if you catch my drift. I hunted down a public washroom, and luckily no one else was using the facilities. I closed myself in a stall, lowered my pants and started stroking my dick to get it hard.

As I sat there casually stroking myself, someone entered the washroom and walked up to the urinals, which were located directly across from the stalls. Peering through the crack in the stall door, which was rather wide, I checked out the stranger. He looked to be about five-foot-nine, had dark hair and was wearing a business suit.

When he finished taking a leak and turned to leave, he casually glanced over and looked through the crack of the stall door as he adjusted his clothing. I had never stopped stroking but had slowed it down after he walked in so he wouldn't hear, because you gotta be cautious when you do stuff like that in public washrooms.

After I caught his glance, I started stroking faster. He looked over again, cocking his head to get a better look, and I now knew for sure that this guy was definitely into it.

All Male Fiction: Package Deal

By: Ed

I was out doing my delivery route the other day, and it was a particularly hot day. I'd spent my lunch hour parked over at the University, watching a crew of young studs practicing soccer. They were all stripped down to their shorts, so I got a good look at dozens of sleekly muscled bodies in action. There were all types; slender, burly, hairy and smooth, all working hard, gleaming with sweat.

By the time I was finished with my lunch, I could've lined them up and gone down on all of them, but that wasn't going to happen, obviously. Instead, my beeper went off and I had to hot-foot it back to the warehouse for a delivery order that was due across town in an hour.

Well, I pride myself for being on time, so I damn near flew back to the warehouse and had my order loaded in record time. Then, I hit the traffic lights all right and managed to pull up into the driveway of the house I was looking for a good twenty minutes ahead of my scheduled time. My buddies don't call me "Fast Eddie" for nothing, you know.

I jumped down out of the driver's seat and whipped open the doors of my van. I got the boxes loaded on a dolly and was soon up on the porch. I rang the doorbell, ready to greet another satisfied customer, but nobody came to answer. I rang again; still nothing. That sort of pissed me off, this being a big fucking rush and all, so I started pounding on the door with my fist. All of a sudden the door flew open and this dude was looking me over like I was the last person he wanted to see.

"Delivery," I said, taking the guy in.

He had a towel wrapped around his narrow hips, like maybe I'd gotten him out of the shower, but that wasn't the case because his skin and hair wasn't wet. I was admiring his flat gut when I figured it out. There was the unmistakable outline of a major hard-on pulsing under the towel, leading me to believe I'd interrupted the dude in the middle of a J/O session.

"Come on in," he said gruffly, standing aside and holding the door open for me.

I rolled the dolly into the house, casually brushing the guy with my hip as I passed. Hell, I could feel the heat radiating off that big old bone, even through all that fabric. No doubt about it, it was still seriously hard. The smell that hung in the air around the guy also led me to believe that he'd been pretty far down the road to happiness when I stopped him. Hell, the dude reeked of sex!

"Where do you want it?" I asked, giving him a big smile. I'd already thrown a rod myself, just thinking about a tumble with the guy in the towel, so if he was interested, there was no doubt that I was of a similar mind.

I caught the man giving me the once-over as I turned to take the delivery into the rear of the house. He must've liked what he was seeing, because when his towel sort of 'accidentally' slipped off and his sword swung up front and center, he didn't even try to pick it up.

Saturday, October 31, 2015

All Male Fiction: Selling My Soul

By: Tommyhawk1 & Ryan Michaels

Tonight, one of the local gay bars was having a Halloween party. Costumes were optional so I thought I'd go for a few drinks and check things out. I had just gotten a drink at the bar, turned around, and nearly ran right into Adam. I goggled at the tousled blond hair that my fingers longed to run through, the eyes that my longings dove into every time I looked into them, the smile that tore my heart out without ever leaving those lovely, languid, luscious lips... okay, that's not the best alliterative poetic phrase ever concocted, but god, that's how I felt about Adam.

But I was now confronted with Adam, dressed in a football uniform, his costume complete with shoulder pads, those tight football pants and it appeared he was even wearing a jock with a cup.

"Hey Scott, how you doing?" Adam put one hand on my shoulder. God, those shoulders of his, those magnificent bulges of the man who worked out just enough to give his body that perfect amount of definition, the rounded shoulders, the bulging biceps…

"Muh-uh?" I mumbled. My lips were numb, because all my blood, all my passion, all my desires, had pooled underneath that hand, throbbing there, wanting only to be with him, only him, always.

"Well, catch you later," Adam said and, withdrawing that hand and sending my heart down into my shoes, he smiled at me and then turned and walked away. My eyes fed upon the sight of that perfect pair of ovals that were being hugged tightly by those football pants, until the press of other people's bodies closed it off from my sight, and when it did, all I could do was sigh.

"You missed out on him again, didn't you?" came an exasperated sound.

"Yeah," I agreed.

"You want him that much, why don't you go get him?"

"I've tried," I protested. "I... I just can't. God, I'd... I'd sell my soul for a chance with him, a real chance!"

"Your terms are accepted," the voice said.

"Huh?" I turned around at that. I'd been carrying on a heck of a conversation with this guy who had come up behind me, a stranger come to think about it.

Black hair, dark eyes, a goatee that came to an excruciating painful looking point at the end, with heavy eyebrows and dark brown skin above a suit of black with a dark gray sweater under the jacket. He was dressed as the Devil.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I'm the answer to your problems," the man smiled at me, and it was an evil smile, befitting of his Devil costume.

"Oh really, how's that?" I asked.

"It's simple really, I just grant your wish."

"My wish?"

"Yes, your wish, your desire to be with Adam."

"And how would you make that wish come true?" I asked with a laugh.

"It's quite easy. You just stated you'd sell your soul to the Devil in exchange for a chance with that boy."

"Oh, and let me guess, you are really the Devil, right?" I laughed.

Without answering my question, he simply responded with, "Of course, if you didn't really mean what you said, I won't hold you to it."

"Sure, whatever you say buddy!" I replied and turned to walk off.

"Wait!" he exclaimed and I turned to look at him once more. "Maybe this will convince you that I have the power to give you what your heart desires."

He waved a hand and the crowd parted like Moses had parted the Red Sea. They weren't knocked aside; it was like they all decided to move at the same time, a coincidence that happens now and then. Only this coincidence put Adam and me in plain view of each other. Adam looked at me from across the room, scanning my body, and then he locked his eyes on mine and smiled.

"How did… That's impossible… You-you can't really be…" I babbled unable to form full sentences.

"So what do you say? Have we got a deal?"

I swallowed hard. "I don't know what's going on here, I must be dreaming or hallucinating, but yeah, you've got yourself a deal! You get me Adam and you can have my soul!"

"The bargain is confirmed," the Devil said, and I looked at him puzzled. "It's what we do instead of having people sign their name in blood," he assured me. "Now that we have a binding agreement, I'll just fetch Adam over here and you can take it from there."

The Devil wiggled a finger at Adam, a 'come here' wiggle of the index finger, and Adam immediately began to walk forward, through that aisle of people who had kindly stepped out of the way.

Thursday, October 22, 2015

All Male Fiction: Taking Possession

By: Tommyhawk1
Edited by Ryan Michaels

Someone was in the room with me. I sat up, looked around. The room was dark; there were clouds over the moon and stars, only a bit of scattered outdoor lights to give me the barest impression of the room through the window. There wasn't much to see, just the gray squares of the window, the bare hint of the dresser, the chair, the closet door. There was the sound of the wind outside; a long, low, mournful moaning sound. Whoo-hoo! Hoo-hooooooo-hoo!

I lay back down, turned fitfully on the bed. It's always rough settling into a new home, and the nights are always uncomfortable at first. You have the spaces you aren't familiar with and all the small sounds that come with a new home; there's the way the house moves and all those subliminal things that you have to get used to and feel comfortable with...

"You are mine!"

What was that? A vague whisper. I shook my head; must have just been the wind. I was alone in this house after all. I was just letting my imagination turn noises into a voice, that was all it was, just the wind, which was awfully loud after all, all that whoo-whoo-whooing it was doing, and...

"You are mine!"

Okay, that one I heard clearly! I sat bolt upright in my bed and looked around in the dark. "Just the wind," I said aloud. "You're not hearing voices, it's just the wind."

Shit, I was freaking myself out! Why the hell was I feeling this way? Halloween was still a week away; I hadn't even watched a horror flick yet, which in the weeks before Halloween can be a real trick! Why was I suddenly jumping at shadows and wind, just because this was a new house? I lay back down. I would laugh at this in the morning, when it was light again.

I felt it, then. A touch on my leg, like a hand, a cold, cold hand! I reached down, but it was gone. Damn, now I was feeling things! Now my cheek! I felt my face, a trace of moisture like... a kiss? I rubbed my face hard, wiping away the slight wetness there. God, what was going on here? A drip from overhead, for sure! I had a drip and it had landed on my face and that was why I felt...

Another wetness! Shit that one was on my left pec! I felt it, lips kissing my nipple and it was still there! I reached up and pressed my hand to my chest, and I touched a face! Just a touch, and then it was gone. And then the voice again. "You are mine!"

Okay, now I really was freaking out, and I sat bolt upright again and blurted, "What the hell is going on?!"

"Mine! All mine!"

"No! No!" I screamed out. "I'm not yours, I'm not! Go away!"

"Ahhhhh!" that was a sound of... disappointment?

And suddenly the darkness was again only the darkness and the wind was only the wind.

I lay back down again, my heart beating hard. I didn't sleep much that night, but nothing bothered me. Even the house didn't make any sounds to worry about.

When the dawn came, I tried to tell myself it had only been a dream. Somehow, though, I didn't believe myself, and I drove out to see my grandmother that same morning. She had told me when I turned eighteen that I had inherited this house from its former owner on account of I had been given the name he had chosen. So if anyone could tell me why I'd been visited by a ghost (because I was certain that I had been visited by a ghost), my grandmother was the one to ask.

"Why did you get the house?" she responded to my question as she poured me some tea. I took it; I needed caffeine of any kind after the night I'd had. "I told you, because your name is Beau Hennessy. And you're named after your granduncle, your dear grandfather's brother."

"But why did the old guy who left me the house do it?" I questioned. "His name wasn't Beau, it was Clifton Mortimer. Not even a relative of ours, right?"

"Yes, one of the Stafford Mortimers'," my grandmother replied. "Very wealthy family, very generous in the community, very well thought of. A shame what happened to him."

"What do you mean?" I leaned forward. "What happened to him?"