"We have reason to believe that man first walked upright to free his hands for masturbation."
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Friday, May 31, 2013

All Male True Experience: Rubbing Wieners

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Thursday, May 30, 2013

All Male Fiction: My Time in London (Part 2)

By: Lucas Miller
 
 
 

I woke up with the worst headache I had ever experienced. It was nearly noon. Kevin had gone to off to work a few hours earlier, and I hadn't even heard him get up. The alcohol I had abundantly consumed the night before was taking its revenge.

With rubbery muscles I managed to get out of bed and move down to the bathroom at the end of the hall. Downstairs, I heard the soft chatter of the elderly owner of the house and her guest. Inside the bathroom I pissed for what seemed to be thirty minutes, and then returned to my room to get some clothes.

I stunk. I smelled very bad. I had slept in my alcohol and cigarette smelling clothes all night. I also think I may have vomited on myself in the middle of the night. What I needed was a long hot shower. I gathered my clean clothes and retraced my steps to the bathroom.
I undressed and went to work at rigging the shower. It was an awful task. I wondered if all bathrooms in England were like the one that I had to use every morning. My landlady, Mrs. Collins, must have bought the porcelain tub when she was in her twenties, and its fixtures were probably taken from an even older tub.

In order to take a shower (if that's what you could call it), you had to connect the showerhead to the tub's faucet. It screwed on. Once connected, however, there wasn't any place to hang it. I had to hold onto it throughout my shower. The thing was only about two feet long, so I couldn't stand up with it. Instead, I had to either sit or kneel in the tub. I wondered what was going through Mrs. Collins' mind the day she saw this in the store. She may have had a drinking problem at the time, too.

I completed the pre-shower ritual and turned the water on to get it warmed up. Mrs. Collins had warned Kevin and me that we weren't to have a shower any longer than eight minutes (I don't know why eight). I quickly got into the tub and squatted down. I poured the water over me with my eyes closed.

I had flashes of what had occurred the night before. Had I really fucked a stranger on the train? And Kevin, he looked like an old pro screwing that guy. I smiled at the images of Kevin pounding the man's ass. My cock began to grow. I stopped myself from jerking off, knowing that I didn't have time to waste in my shower. I went back to the task of washing myself. I was starting to feel a little better.

My cock was begging me to touch it. It stood straight out from my body, but I ignored it. It would have to wait until I was done.

With my shower nearly done, I reached for the towel on the floor and began drying my hair. I turned the water off, stood up, and continued drying my body. Then, without warning, the door opened. My fear was that Mrs. Collins was coming in and she would see me with my six-and-a-half inch erection pointing toward her.

Instead, her grandson Mitchell strolled in. Mitchell visited his grandmother frequently, but never really spoke to Kevin or me. To be fair, we never spoke to him. He was probably about five years older than we were, quiet and shy. He had a trim build with blond hair and green eyes. I would say he was attractive, but not stunning. No one I would pick out of a crowd.

Straight Fiction: Room With a View

By: Dougnchris
 
 

She finished her dinner, keeping an eye on the window at the end of her kitchen table. She liked having the furniture arranged this way because it gave her a great view while eating, and she knew it would be perfect for later. It was not quite dark yet... it would probably be another half hour or so. She rinsed her bowl and put it in the dishwasher, wiped off the table and took a last look around to make sure things were neat.

He stabbed at the button in the elevator for his floor. He was pissed that he had to work overtime, but he had managed to get things wrapped up so he could get home before dark. Anyway, working overtime was a good excuse not to go out with the guys for a beer. For the last week or so, getting home quickly had been a priority.

She opened the box from Victoria's Secret and admired the cream-colored silk camisole and the matching thong, and then went off to shower.

He hurriedly unlocked his apartment door, walked in, and threw his briefcase on the chair. He looked out the window… still about twenty minutes of daylight left. That gave him enough time to gobble down pizza from last night and go through the mail.

She lathered herself with the luxurious French milled soap she received years ago as a gift, but had been keeping for a special occasion. She loved the feel of the hot water unwinding her muscles, and her fingers on her body.

He had thrown most of his mail in the garbage, put the cable bill on the desk, and tossed his plate in the sink with the others. He peered across the street - an alley really - and noticed that she had moved the furniture in her kitchen. Strange for the kitchen table to be up against the window, but he remembered that he too had recently changed his furniture around as well, and his big leather chair also faced the window.

She stepped out of the shower and toweled off. She released the clip that had held her long blonde hair out of the water, and brushed her hair with long, luxurious strokes. She stepped into the thong and brought it up to her damp mound. Was she still wet from the shower or already wet for what awaited her? She didn't know, and frankly didn't care. She slipped the camisole over her head and looked at herself in the mirror. Her ample breasts filled out the camisole nicely and her nipples were more than visible through the thin fabric. She turned to her closet and considered her shoes.

He untied his tie and hung it on the rack. Next was his white shirt, and then he hung his trousers in the closet and removed his socks, leaving him in only his black boxer briefs.

Her stiletto heels clicked across the hardwood floor of her living room as she moved to extinguish the lights. It had been dark for about ten minutes, but with the drapes drawn it was tough to tell.

He turned off the lights in his apartment, except for the floor lamp next to his chair. He settled in facing the open window, put his drink on the end table and waited with anticipation. He only had to wait a few minutes.

She walked into the kitchen and switched on the light to the ceiling fan directly over the table.

As the light came on in the kitchen across the street, he sat up and began paying attention, knowing he was in for a treat.

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

All Male Fiction: The True Meaning of Fuck

By: xxcole
 
 

Kevin and Pete had gotten back to the hotel room a little worse for wear after an evening of beer at the 'Beer Festival'. The two buddies both tumbled into the one double bed in the room, exhausted and drunk, more than disappointed that they hadn't scored any tasty women to finish the night off with a good fucking. But then they thought that maybe the following night would perhaps be a little more productive. Both passed out almost immediately.

After a couple of hours sleep, Kevin started to come around, and his movement roused his friend Pete. Both lying on top of the bedding, fully dressed, it was clearly evident both had awoken sporting a couple of hard-ons in their jeans. This, of course, was a normal occurrence for sleeping males, but in this case both guys were also extremely horny after having scoped out all the scantily clad women at the beer festival.

"Oh! Fuck, Pete, I'm so fucking horny! Why the hell couldn't we get some pussy tonight?
Pete, half awake, rubbed his straining crotch and agreed that a juicy cunt would be something of a treat, as he was already oozing a copious amount of pre-cum.

"I'm gonna have to get off," Kevin said struggling to get his cock out, right there in front of his buddy. "My balls are fucking full of spunk."

Pete propped himself on one elbow to watch as Kevin pulled his thick, long, rigid cock from his jeans. "That's a pretty nasty fucking hard-on, buddy," he said. "I pity the poor cunt you'd have pounded with that fucker, if we'd gotten any."

Kevin was stroking his cock in his right hand as he used his left to help him wriggle his ass out of his jeans, so that he could grasp his balls at the same time. "Fuck, Pete, this feels fucking great."

Pete, unable to contain himself any longer, pulled down his own jeans and started stroking his juicy cock to full stiffness.

All Male Fiction: Whipped Into Shape

By: Unknown Author
 
 

Jim Spencer was a bright, athletic and good-looking kid who should've been at the top of his class. Unfortunately, he was totally out of control, and all of the teachers were really fed up with his classroom antics. As the principal of the high school he attended, I was responsible for discipline, and so I saw Jim in my office at least once a week. He was on his way in again, and I sat behind my desk, wondering how to get through to him.

"Come in," I said gruffly in response to a knock on my door.

Jim opened the door and stepped inside, a smug little smirk on his face. He was wearing his gym clothes, which meant he'd gotten Coach Peterman's goat, which wasn't easy. I shook my head in disgust and stared up at him.

Jim was easy to look at. His bare legs were sleek, with a runner's finely tuned muscles, and his stretched-out tank-top wasn't doing much to hide his muscular torso. At eighteen, Jim's body was in fine shape; pecs, lats, deltoids, you name it, all emerging from gawky boyhood to the first glow of his young manhood. As I looked at him, he reached down and idly scratched his balls.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Jordan?" he asked insolently. "You know how much I always enjoy our little visits."

"I'd like you to behave like a man instead of a jerk," I snapped angrily, rising out of my chair and striding around to the front of my desk. "What was it this time?"

"I got in a little shoving match with Mark Jamison. Coach took Mark's side, of course."

Jamison was a sniveling little tattletale, a type I couldn't abide. I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather shove myself, although I couldn't let Jim know that.

"I told Coach to stuff it up his butt, so he sent me to see our beloved principal. Nice tie, man," he concluded, flicking the end of my tie, his hand skimming by my face, missing my nose by less than an inch.

"Careful, Spencer," I growled, my face going scarlet. "You're stepping over the line, son." I was within a heartbeat of decking the young fool. I took a deep breath and tried to control my temper.

"What're you going to do about it, Jordan? Spank me?" His tone was maddening. "Come on, wimp. Why don't you try to do something?"

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Straight Fiction: Blackmailing Dean

By: expatt & Ryan Michaels
 
 
Dean had been going out with my older brother, Matt, for about two years when I found out he'd screwed another guy, a guy named Eric. Worse yet, Eric was a good friend of Matt's. I knew I could use this to my advantage.

I was eighteen and devious. I'd had a huge crush on Dean from the first time Matt had brought him home. He was twenty-two, and had a broad hairless chest and big muscled shoulders. His face was masculine and he was quick with a smile. I loved hanging out with him, and always tried to see him without his shirt on. He came away with us one summer up to the beach house, and I loved seeing him in his shorts and nothing else. He was my fantasy man, which led to many a time of me fucking myself with my dildo, pretending it was his cock in me, while rubbing my clit to orgasm.

I still couldn't believe he was gay. No one would ever think it. He was the epitome of the 'typical' straight man in appearance and demeanor. But not only was he gay, he was one of those gay men that was disgusted by the very thought of getting anywhere near a pussy, let alone sticking their dick in one.

I found out he screwed Eric because I overheard a telephone conversation between the two. Dean had been spending the weekend at our house while mom and dad were away at the beach house. Matt was in the shower and Dean thought he was the only other person in the house. He was, until I'd come home and (unintentionally) picked up the phone, finding that Dean was using the one in the bedroom. I heard them talking about how nobody could find out that they'd fucked, and Eric was going on and on saying how much he really liked Dean, but he promised him that he wouldn't say anything. I listened to the whole thing, and suddenly had the most amazing idea!

So, one day when I knew that Matt was working, I went over to Dean's house. He lived in a small apartment on the other side of town and worked from home. He was surprised to see me, but invited me in. We were sitting on the couch and I could tell he wondered what I was doing there.

"Dean, I've got a deal for you," I told him.
He sat back on the couch with a smile on his face. God, he was sexy. I was so hoping that my plan would work. "What's that?" he asked casually. He had no idea what I was about to suggest.

"Well, first off, I need to tell you that I know that you fucked Eric Sanderson last month." I paused there to let that sink in.

The color drained from his face and he stared at me. "Shit," he said under his breath a moment later. "How did you find out? Does Matt know?"

"No, Matt doesn't know. I overheard you talking to Eric last weekend at our house. And I haven't told anyone."

I could tell that Dean's mind was spinning. He didn't know what to do.

"Are you going to tell Matt?" he asked me.

God, this was great. He was completely at my mercy! "That depends," I said. I wanted his agony to last.

"On what?"

"On whether or not you'll fuck me," I told him.

He looked at me with disbelief. "What?" he said, incredulously.

"I said I want you to fuck me." I was getting more and more confident.

"Is this some kind of joke?" he asked, unsure of my seriousness.

I shook my head with a smirk on my face.

"You must be out of your fucking mind!" he said. "I'm a fag, in case you've forgotten. I don't do pussy. I'm not gonna start now, and I definitely wouldn't start with you, even if I had the inkling, which trust me, I never will. You're my boyfriend's sister for Christ's sake! Jesus Christ Kelly, are you drunk or high or something or think this is actually a funny joke to play, because I know you can't be serious!"

He was raving. I just let him rant. It didn't worry me. I felt pretty sure he'd agree to my conditions. He was deeply in love with Matt, and the two were even planning to get married at some point. (Gay marriage is legal where we live). I loved my brother, but, still, right then, in that moment, I wanted Dean's cock in my pussy more than anything else in the world!

"I'm completely sober and totally serious. All I want is your cock in my tight pussy. If you don't do it, then I'll tell Matt what I heard on the phone. He'll dump you, you know he will," I said, smugly.

"You fucking bitch!" he grumbled and sat back down heavily on the couch.

"Dean. I only want you to do this once. And I promise I'll never ask again, and I will never say anything to Matt about Eric."

He didn't say anything, rather just lay back on the couch with his hands over his face. He was thinking. I sat across from him, staring at the bulge in his pants. God, it was big, and he was so cute.

"Just once, right?" he asked removing his hands from his face.

My heart leapt. He was considering it!

"Yup, just once; I wanna suck your dick, and then I want you to fuck me."

He was silent and just looked at me for a long time. "I can't fuckin' believe this," he finally said. "I thought you were a nice girl, but today you've shown me what a little cunt you really are."

"I'm not a cunt. I'm just a girl who gets moist whenever she's around you."

He made a face when I said that, getting a mental image I imagine.

"So, what's your answer?"

All Male Fiction: Blackmailing Dean

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Friday, May 17, 2013

Bisexual Fiction: What's Good for the Goose...

By: Unknown Author
 
 
My husband, Brian, and I are very much in love. Our sex life was great, very active, and fulfilling. We were both very adventurous when it came to sex, and although we had so far confined our sex life to the marriage bed, we had, on many occasions, discussed having a ménage a trois. My husband of course, like most red-blooded heterosexual men, wanted it to be with another woman. After quite a bit of persisting from my husband we finally decided to turn the fantasy into a reality, and after quite a while of searching for just the right person, my husband and I invited another woman into our bed.

Brian and I talked in great detail before it happened, and we had agreed that he would not penetrate her pussy with his cock unless I asked him to. Furthermore, Brian asked me to allow myself to pleasure and be pleasured by the other woman... as that would be much more exciting, he thought, for everyone. I wasn't bisexual at all - the thought of another woman didn't really do it for me - but I acquiesced, and we promised each other that if either of us felt uncomfortable we would stop without any drama and just end the session.

We needn't have worried so much. It turned out to be very exciting and extremely satisfying. It was wonderful for everyone. I tasted my first pussy that night, and actually placed Brian's cock at another woman's pussy and asked him to fuck her slowly. He did, of course, while she kissed and licked my pouting pussy lips, nibbling on my clit like no man has ever done. I had multiple orgasms that night; I just quit counting at three. Finally Brian finished me off with his hard cock. I must admit, I enjoyed the bisexual aspect of the evening, but I still preferred a stiff cock to a wet pussy.

After that evening, Brian and I discussed the event many times. It fueled our sex life and we seemed even closer, if that was possible. We both agreed that it was something we wanted to do again, but not something we would do often. Maybe like an exotic vacation, something you do once every few years - maybe.

Well, a couple of years went by. Brian and I remained very happy and sexually active - often in our fantasies we would invoke a threesome, or even a foursome. We talked about making our fantasy a reality again. This time I suggested we should invite another man to join us. I expected strong resistance from Brian to that idea, but surprisingly he didn't object at all. In fact he seemed perfectly ok with it. I was pretty sure he was just doing it for me since I had agreed to a woman, for him, during our first experience. Still, I had to admit, to me, the thought of two rock hard cocks at my beck and call made me flushed and started my juices flowing. Just talking about it got my pussy wet... and Brian and I fucked like a couple of horny teenagers that night.

We agreed it would be best if it was someone we didn't know, and even better if this someone was from out of town - that was Brian's suggestion.

"I don't think either of us would ever betray or cheat on the other," Brian said. "But if we chose someone local, we would kind of know them after the fact, and we wouldn't necessarily want to see the person around town after or have them trying to start a friendship with us, or even simply gossiping about what they did with us." He made a very good point.

So, together, we sat down at the computer to look through some sites.

"There are so many ads, so many to choose from," I said as we entered the first site on our search. "How are we ever going to choose?"

"Well, he needs to be good-looking, obviously. I don't want to watch some ugly guy giving it to my wife," Brian laughed. "And, I would be comfortable choosing a guy with a really big cock."

That kind of surprised me. "Why would you want the guy we choose to be bigger than you?" I asked.

"I want you to enjoy yourself. After only having my 6-incher in you for all these years, if you are going to experience another cock in you, it may as well be a really big one," he smirked.

"And you wouldn't be jealous or anything, you know with the whole male ego thing and all?"

"Nope, not at all. After all, if we're gonna do this, we may as well do it right," he grinned.

Now I knew why he hadn't even tried to object to the idea of it being another man. He wanted to see me getting fucked by a big cock. That gave me an idea. What would he do for me in return?

"Well, I appreciate that, but, what was good for the goose is also good for the gander." Now I was the one smirking.
"Huh?" Brian said looking away from the computer to me.

"Well, you and the other guy will have to enjoy each other as well."

Brain balked at that idea. "I don't think I could do that!"

"It doesn't have to be anything hard core, but you can't be homophobic either. After all, if we were all engaged with each other sexually it would be much more fun. That was pretty much the same thing you told me when we had that first threesome and I didn't think I could do something with another woman, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but…" Brian started.

"…but nothing," I interrupted. "I did that for you because I love you and you said it would turn you on immensely, and it did. This will turn me on and is what I want. Fair is fair," I said kissing him on the cheek.

"Yeah, but…"

"…or we could just call the whole thing off," I sighed.

"No, I really want to see a good-looking guy with a huge cock fuck you," Brian said.

"So then you'll do stuff with him, too?" I asked.

"I dunno…"

"That's the deal breaker, just like it was for you, honey," I said.

"Well… maybe… I don't know."

I clicked the browser window shut.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Brian exclaimed.

"You obviously don't want to do this anymore, so there is no point in looking at the ads."

"Wait! Just exactly what would I have to do… with him?"
 
"I don't know… play with his dick?"

Brian gave a quiet groan of uneasiness. "I guess I could do that… if I had to."

"Maybe let him suck your cock?"

Another quiet groan of uneasiness. "I… I suppose I could get through that if that's what it will take to make this happen."

"Maybe suck his cock? Get it all ready to go in my pussy."

Straight Fiction: Hung Like a Horse

By: J. Boswell
 
 
I married Jane when we were both still in college, a little over ten years ago. They have been a great ten years. I just had my 32nd birthday, and Jane's is in a couple of months.

Jane still looks fantastic. We walk or cycle almost every day, and she teaches an aerobics class at the community center. Her body is firmer and tighter now than it was when I met her. She is 5'6", weighs about 110-115lbs, and measures in at an eye-catching 36-24-35. She has deep green eyes, a great complexion, and bright blonde hair cut in a short, stylish bob. So, when I tell you that just looking at her still makes my heart go pitter-patter, you know why.

I've been monogamous since the day I met Jane, and I'm sure she has been the same. She wasn't a virgin when we met. In fact, I started dating Jane after she broke up a very long-term relationship with one of my Frat brothers. I know they had been fucking for years, and sometimes, even today, while daydreaming, the vision of Jane and her ex-boyfriend doing some of the things we have done together has aroused me. Maybe it was so easy for me to picture them together because I knew both of them.

Anyway, here we are a successful young couple. We both work for the same very large Corporation. And now we are enjoying the benefits, in our new house with a three-car garage, a yard full of trees, and a hot tub on the deck outside our bedroom.

Several weeks ago I received word that Mike, a mutual co-worker and old friend, was returning to headquarters for training. Mike is a great guy, and we were close before he was transferred to Seattle about a year ago. We had been on the company softball team together and had been drinking buddies, and Jane and I had even double-dated with him a time or two. So, when I heard he was coming back to town for a few days, I checked with Jane, and then called him, insisting he stay with us rather than in a hotel. He agreed, immediately.

I picked Mike up at the airport at 3:00pm on Friday afternoon, and we had a nice conversation as I drove back to the house, during which he informed me he had just gotten engaged to a woman out West.

When Mike opened the door to our house, thirty-some people yelled "SURPRISE!" Jane and I had decided to throw him a little "Welcome Back" party so he could see his old friends again. It was a great party.

After good music, good food, good conversation, and good booze, people started leaving around midnight. By twelve-thirty everybody had left and Mike offered to help Jane and I clean up.

Jane said, "This can wait. I'd rather take a quick dip."

I agreed.

Mike said that that sounded good, but he'd have to borrow one of my swimsuits as he hadn't brought any along with him.

Much to my surprise Jane blurted out, "You don't have to worry about a suit, Mike. Jim and I don't bother much with them anymore."

I was surprised because although Jane and I really didn't bother with suits, it was only when we were alone. I couldn't tell if she was a little buzzed, or a little excited, or both. But I knew I was both!

The three of us quickly stripped on the back patio deck. It was obvious in the bright moonlight that Jane was more than buzzed. Her nipples were hard and erect and her skin had that taut, expectant look it gets before we have sex. She was also breathing through her mouth, and her eyes were glued on Mike.

And looking at Mike myself, I could now see why he had been such a stud around the office before he was transferred. Besides his rugged good looks and great personality, he had a rather large cock and set of balls hanging between his legs. I noticed he was also watching Jane very closely.

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

All Male Fiction: Kissing Cousins

HGTV's Kitchen Cousins Slash Fiction
 
By: Miss Meehan
 
 

John Colaneri walked up to his apartment on the top floor of the converted building he and his family had renovated. His slightly older cousin Anthony lived on the floor below him. Anthony's parents lived one floor below him. John was tired and didn't bother to stop in for whatever dish his aunt had cooked up for her work weary men. Instead, he dragged himself up the three flights of stairs and quickly began to strip as soon as he was safely inside his apartment.

With work boots and pants already stripped off, John ran a hand through his close-cropped hair and trudged over to the fridge to grab a beer. Leaving a trail of clothes behind him, he headed for his bathroom to shower, placing the beer on the vanity while he adjusted the water temperature and prepared to wash off the day's filth.

The warm water felt good on his skin. He lathered up several times and rinsed, enjoying the feel of the water washing away foam. After a few minutes more, John turned off the water and grabbed a fluffy white towel. Patting himself dry, he grabbed his forgotten beer and headed back out to his living room to decide what to do about dinner. He was startled by the presence of his cousin Anthony standing there with a foil covered plate in his hands.

"Mom sent dinner," he announced, his eyes taking in the sight of his cousin's body.

John smiled, grateful that he didn't have to worry about dinner after all. With everyone home, he wasn't sure his cousin would be paying him a visit this evening, but it looked like Tony had found an excuse to come see him. Not that they needed one. John and Anthony had been close since childhood, despite the fact that Anthony had brothers and sisters. Through the years, their friendship had blossomed into something more; something they'd kept secret from their friends and family.

Sunday, May 5, 2013

All Male Fiction: Teenage Spunk

By: rick_licks_dick
 
 
My heart sank when I saw Whittaker crumple up and hit the field like a wounded animal. He was my champion athlete and I was counting on him to pull us through in the regional finals next week. Now, he was flat on his back, both hands cupping the considerable bulge in his groin. I got up off the bench and loped across the field to find out what had happened.

"Pulled a muscle in my groin, Coach," he groaned, tears welling up in his eyes. He was a big, strong, eighteen year old man, but right now he looked as helpless as a baby. I helped him up, and slipped an arm around him, half-carrying him back to the locker room.

Touching Whittaker was unlike touching any of the other young men I've coached over the years. Many of them had had great bodies, but Whittaker's was almost too much to take. His arms and shoulders were tight and thick with muscle, and his chest was a true masterpiece. Right now my fingers were curving under the rise of his big pec and it felt like a warm rock. When he moved it was sheer poetry in motion, and I was convinced that he had a great athletic career ahead of him.

"It really hurts, Coach," he groaned, looking over at me with his big brown eyes. Whittaker's arm felt good against my neck, his sweat soaking through my t-shirt and rapidly making me a whole lot hotter than the cool fall weather could justify. "You have to make it better. I have to be able to compete this weekend."

"We'll worry about that later," I reassured him, giving him a friendly squeeze. "Right now I want to get you inside so I can see how badly you're hurt." I tightened my grip on him and bore most of his weight as we descended the stairs.

"Let's get these clothes off you," I said, helping him into my office. "Can you get your shoes off?"

Friday, May 3, 2013

All Male Fiction: Night Visions (Part 1)

By: Ryan Michaels
 
 
Ryan and Sean had been best friends for as long as they could remember. The two best friends were at Ryan's, hanging out after school, which was quite usual. No one else was home.

"Hey Sean, can I tell you a secret?" Ryan asked as the two sat in the living room, Sean mindlessly flipping through the TV channels.

"Sure," Sean replied with a shrug of his shoulders, not looking away from the TV.

"You remember that old movie from the 90's called Sliver we watched a little while ago?"

"Sliver… not sure, what was it about again?"
 
"It was about a guy who was the landlord of a building and he had hidden cameras set up in all the tenants' apartments, and he would watch them from his apartment on a bunch of monitors."

"Oh, yeah, right. What about it?"

"I did that," Ryan grinned.

"You did what?" Sean asked, still not looking away from his channel flipping.


"I hid a camera in someone's apartment and wirelessly transmitted the feed to my laptop."


"Yeah, sure you did," Sean laughed.

"No, really, I did," Ryan said.

"Oh yeah, did you really?" Sean said, looking away from the TV for the first time.

"Uh-huh."

"Then tell me, just exactly how did you manage to get inside some stranger's apartment to hide a camera?"

"Easy," Ryan grinned. "I just borrowed the Super's Master key one day when he was here fixing the toilet."

"Yeah, and I'm sure he just let you borrow his keys," Sean laughed.

"No, he didn't let me, he didn't even know. He had to go to the store to get a part for the toilet and left his building keys on top of the toilet tank. When I saw the movie I thought it would be cool to do that, and then realized that I already had a wireless camera. What I didn't have was a way into someone's apartment to hide the thing, and figured I never would. But, when I saw the Super's keys just lying there, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, so I just grabbed them."

"And then what did you do?" Sean said with obvious put-on intrigue, letting Ryan know that he didn't believe his story at all.

Ryan paid no mind of his friend's attitude and just continued on. "So I had the keys in my hand, and I knew that I didn't have much time, so I practically ran to my bedroom and grabbed the wireless camera. Then I ran out the front door, let myself into an apartment, hid the camera, locked the door again, and then ran back to my apartment and put the Super's keys back on top of the toilet tank, all with just minutes to spare before the Super walked back in to find me sitting on the couch," Ryan rambled. "Cool, huh?"

"Yeah, cool," Sean said sarcastically.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"Nope," Sean laughed.

"I really did hide a wireless camera in someone's apartment!" Ryan said, angry that he had revealed his secret to the only person he felt he could tell, his best friend, and he didn't believe him.
 
"Dude, don't get all mad. Would you believe me if I told you the same story?"

"Well… ok, probably not," Ryan said. "But I can prove it!"

"Dude, give it up!" Sean said turning his attentions back to flipping through the channels again.

"No, seriously, come on!" Ryan said as he jumped up.

"Where?" Sean asked as he got up off the couch to follow behind Ryan.

"To the proof," Ryan said as he led Sean to his bedroom. "And there it is," he said pointing at his laptop.

It was turned on and the lid was up, although the screen was set to go black after thirty minutes, so it was blank. Sean reached over and moved the mouse. "All I see is your desktop and shortcuts," Sean said as the screen lit up.

"Well, duh, I'm not gonna leave the camera showing on my laptop for my dad to see. You have to click on a shortcut with a fake name to open the program that lets you view the camera," Ryan said, clicking on it as he spoke the words.

"Holy shit!" Sean said as a window opened and filled the screen with the live image of someone's bedroom. "You really did do it!"

"Yup," Ryan grinned proudly.