All Male Fiction: Prime Aussie Dick

By: Unknown Author

 

 

 

Like everyone else in the Navy, I've always heard what a good time Australia was. Unlike a lot of guys, though, I didn't hanker for bars filled with the randy "sheilas" that were supposed to be sure things. When we pulled into Freemantle, I didn't even stop by the local pubs: I headed straight into Perth to see whether I could come up with anything interesting.

I'd gotten to talking with one of my random fucks, before the ship left San Diego, and he suggested I stop by the Dangerous Dingo for the best possible time Down Under. I was a very cocky 19-year-old seaman apprentice with the body of a god and a dick out of legend, or so I told folks whenever I got the chance.

I'd seen enough places like the Dingo in the US to know I wouldn't have trouble finding a good time. I was a young slut who'd do anything that popped into my nasty little mind. I once bet another guy I could swallow more loads inside three hours than he could. I won.

Most of the time, I was more interested in quality action though, whether one-on-one or in very select groups. Being in the Navy, I had a built-in source of buttholes to fuck when I was in the US. Once we deployed, though, I was sensible enough to know that I had to keep my dick dry aboard ship.

I blew plenty of loads into a hunky young marine when we spent two days in the Philippines, but except for those thirty-eight hours of satisfaction, the previous two months had been a long, slow cruise down the palm-drive expressway. I needed the Dangerous Dingo in a very big way and saw the moment I walked through its teak doors and into the locker room that I'd come to the right place.

Perth is the city of Western Australia. Every kind of dick swings through it at one time or another. You can find stockmen from the Outback, prospectors from Alice Springs, Navy dick from countries around the world, and every other stiff sort of one-eyed man-meat you could hope for. The Dingo that night had its share of variety, and I reamed butt for about an hour before I decided that I needed something more. The "mates" I'd juiced were hunky enough and took my nine-plus inches like men, but once I'd drained my sap down to acceptable levels, I grew selective. These guys were ok, but I was out for the best.

I ambled around, peering into darkened rooms the size of closets, hung out in the sauna and steam room, and even popped into the private viewing booths to see what was up. Plenty was up, but it wasn't what I was looking for.

Then I ambled through the locker room and saw him, the one I had been looking for. He wasn't in uniform, but I knew he was a squid of some sort. The close-cropped hair and race-tracks around the ears guaranteed he was military, but something about the glint in his cat-green eyes told me he was Navy. I just prayed he wasn't one of ours. I'm as patriotic as the next guy, but I wanted Aussie dick that night. I hadn't come all the way to Oz to fuck some kid from Kansas.

I lounged for a minute against a scuttlebutt, watching carefully, and obviously, as he stripped off his t-shirt and jeans and draped a towel around his hips. His uncut dick whispered that he was fresh local meat. I read somewhere that fifteen percent of American men are uncut, but just try finding one when you have to. In Oz, you can't swing a kangaroo without bumping into a guy with all-natural meat.

All that being said, though, it wasn't only that uncut cock or the fact he had a store of seaman semen up his bilges, or even that he was Aussie that yanked my chain hard and got my attention. His combination of randy stud-hood and innocence yanked my crank like nothing in my young life.

I'd like to say it was the eyes that won me over for keeps, but the truth is it was his butt. I'd seen butts. If the Nobel folks gave a prize for delving into butts instead of physics or chemistry, I'd have won it years ago.

Although I didn't know it at the time, he also had one other thing going for him: the crack in his ass was soft and completely hairless. I could see that his muscles were ok. He wasn't going to be that year's Mr. Universe, but his pecs and arms were good, his belly was flat, and with that butt, I had seen enough to convince me he was the man for me.

I stood watching and wondering for several moments as he fiddled with his lock and I tried to decide how to get me up his butt. I figured another surface warrior would respond to the direct approach, so I padded up beside him, gave his butt an unsolicited, but fraternal pat, and asked, "How'd you like to show a fellow sailor far from home a little fine Australian hospitality?''

His eyes lit up the second I opened my mouth. He said he'd heard there was a fresh lot of Yanks in town, but he hadn't expected to have the pleasure of ramming his hard Aussie dick up any Yank ass.

 

I smiled back at his accent and said I figured since I was the guest in his fine country, he'd want me on top while he stayed down under, but that we could let nature take its course.

Since neither of us had reserved a room, we decided to start off with a good wash. He'd no sooner dropped his towel as we stepped into the huge tiled shower than my hand was on his ass, cupping his cheeks and sliding my fingers between those delicious mounds.

We were nearly alone in the shower, so I suggested he wash me down. The feel of his soapy hands gliding across my body was just fine, but watching that grin spread across his face while he worked got me even harder.

He skipped soaping my crotch and knelt to do my thighs and legs. His mouth slid around the head of my dick, and I was in heaven. He was warm and wet and knew what to do with his tongue. I wanted to get at him even more than I wanted to shove my load into his boy-jock Aussie face, so I shocked him senseless by pulling my good news out of his face and suggesting we take it easy.

He smiled and said, "No worries," as he soaped my gear up good.

Then it was my turn to work him into a lather. The hard muscles of his neck and chest, of his lats and belly, all felt to my touch like a perfect wet-dream fantasy. When I got to his crotch, I skipped over his cock and went directly to his balls. They hung low and heavy, filled to choking with everything I needed. I soaped them thoroughly, delighting in the slick, soapy feel as my hands juggled and tugged at his nuts. One hand slid past them to begin work on his butt. The hot water was boiling down his back, though, so his ass was rinsed innocent of soap as soon as I could pass the bar between his hard, perfect cheeks.

My attention then focused solely on his dick. My tongue slipped against his ruffled hood of cock-skin, flicking gently against it, then bounced into his rigid cock and made it sway like an ancient oak about to crash to earth. My lips couldn't resist him another second and engulfed the fringe of cock-skin that covered his head, even stiff as it was.

My greedy hand grabbed his shaft and jerked down, suddenly exposing his head to the terrible torment of my tongue as it swept behind his exposed ridge to rape layer after layer of the ambrosial taste of man-cock from its treasure storehouse. The randy Aussie boy's moans drowned out the torrent flooding across his muscular back and butt while his cock drilled deeper into my face. Knowing the precaution unnecessary, my hand pulled his butt toward me to prevent any untoward try at escape.

A few men began to gather in the distance, silently watching that prime Aussie dick face-fucking this hot stud. I didn't care. Right then I'd have gladly gone on live international television as long as he kept his cock down my throat.

I let up on my tongue action as soon as I'd completely cleaned his cock for him, and concentrated on suction. My lips locked hard around the inverted foreskin behind his trigger-ridge and forced it backward down along his shaft until his throbbing knob was jammed as far as it was destined ever to go down my gullet.

Meanwhile, the soapy action on his balls and butt moved into high gear as my butt-washing hand dropped the soap and I began to my slide fingers along his soap-slicked trench. When my fuck-finger found his butt hole, I began to massage the tender area around my target, touching the highest quivering folds of his pulsing passion pit only in passing and moving on.

Within moments, his hungry hole did everything but leap out to snap up my fingers. Under less desperate circumstances, I'd have teased that butt a bit longer before I gave it what it wanted, but the combination of my own need and the kid's preoccupation with keeping his dick in prime suck position made me sloppy. The outside of his shuddering manhole finally got a good grasp of my fuck-finger, so I began to massage him in earnest, drawing across his pucker, to play his butt as if it were a Stradivarius.

Fucking off on the job doesn't pay, though. His excitement moved straight to his dick and he slammed harder and faster into the narrow opening of my gullet. The harder I scraped my fingers across his fuck hole, the more wildly he tore into my face, pounding my nose in his wet, delicious blond bush.

Suddenly, I felt his tight ball-bag at my jaw and knew the game was up. Animal howls tore through the steam cloud surrounding us as his thick dick slammed relentlessly into my face, pronging my throat as though it were the slut of creation. My lower lip felt the tremors of his hot Australian jism being shot up through the cum-tube under his cock, and then that hot jism blasted straight down into my belly.

At first, I couldn't bear to swallow a single thick, twisted white thread of his man-seed, but his dick had a wake dangerous enough to swamp a frigate. I hated to do it, he was so sweet and syrupy and choice, but I had to start gulping his hot jism down my throat as fast as I could work my tongue around his face-pounding cock.

Trapped on the end of his cock, I was powerless to alter my destiny, so I improved upon his. My fuck-finger and two of its brothers slammed into his butthole, breaking through into his ass-ring to pry and stretch and prod my way around. I might have been his cockhead's thrall, but he bounced up and down on my hand like a yo-yo run amok.

Once he was done cumming, he pulled his ass back, withdrawing his sensitive cock from my mouth. I wasted no time in grabbing him around the hips and spinning him around. Once my tongue went to work on his hole, I was sure I'd go deaf. He'd been loud before, but when my lust-propelled tongue started to tear into his ass, his howls and growls went from loud tenor to rabid soprano.

Every horny dick in the place had gathered around to see what all the noise was about. I have never seen so many cocks being stroked at one time, before or since. The horny young Aussie stud was an inspiration. Standing, my legs moved between his and, as my tongue found his earlobe, my cock slid between his hard, muscular cheeks. Pressed tight between his butt and my belly, my dick slid up and down, jerking off as his ass muscles clenched tighter and tighter.

My right leg wrapped around his, cutting short any chance of escape as I pushed him up against the shower wall, pulled back with my hips to clear my cock of his butt, and then rammed forward into his butt-hole with enough force to fuck a mastodon to death.

He let out a howl and said, "Take it easy mate!"

I was already far south of sane, but when I heard his foxy fucking Aussie accent, my guts churned inside out and I lost control entirely. The image of a prison rape flitted briefly through my mind, making me pump my cock harder, but nobody inside Western Australia that night had any doubt how much he wanted my action.

The next several minutes were a blur of a million half-images, imperfectly frozen in time by the frenzy of the moment, as I twisted and rammed and pronged my way up into his hole. I remember noticing how he grunted when I would hit his prostate, remembered the way the hard muscle at the end of his fuck tunnel took my cockhead's abuse without breaking down.

The feral howls of ecstasy that he had learned in his Tasmanian boyhood alternated with the boiling frenzy of the showers, opened full and cascading across our rutting, insensible bodies. Nothing had ever felt as good as the way his guts wrapped tightly around the whole length of my butt-burning dick as I scraped along the slick, tender lining of his fuck hole.

My hips, governed now by an instinct primeval as rock, swung out away from his tight Aussie butt, only to swing forward again, smashing his helpless, lust-struck body into the tile and drilling an even longer fuck tunnel for the next, inescapable thrust.

My balls heard his screams of tormented bliss, but my mind was deaf to everything but the black mist of carnality which had engulfed me. My last conscious thought was how well he responded to the saddle.

His legs and butt, and even the hands he'd slid behind to pry apart my own ass and pull my cock ever deeper inside him, all seemed to be one with me, like some magical stallion. Every move of my body found a perfect counterpoint in his. We were as one creature, bonded by lust and sealed by my dick up his butt.

I rode his Aussie boy-stud body like an Arabian Nights adventure and clutched onto his quivering sailor body as though it were Ali Baba's treasure multiplied by infinity.

Suddenly his butt slammed even tighter around my cock and the kid screamed out like the doomed of hell. Some dim particles of my being felt his body shudder and knew the awful truth: he was two ahead of me now. I'd fucked his body so hard against the wall that his super-sensitive, unshod dick head and my butt-nut action had been too much for him.

His screams and the mental image of his cock dripping soft sailor jism were too much for me, and I felt my own universe contract around me, as my entire being turned inside out as I shot my hot load up his slutty Aussie ass. My body heaved and shook and clawed to get inside him, and my dick scraped his fuck hole clean and then went back for more. As I began to come back to sanity, I heard my voice overpowering that of my conquest as we both screamed on into the night and pumped our bilges dry.

When we were both completely drained, I wriggled my cock around inside his tight, cream-filled butt a bit, and then pulled it out so I could turn him around for a long, slow man-to-man kiss. His hands stayed locked on my ass, though, and wouldn't let me leave. I finished soaping him up, still inside him, and together we rinsed off like Siamese twins gone even more wrong. Needless to say, we were the hit of the evening. Cheers and applause for a good show echoed in the shower area, but just then we wanted to be alone to savor the moment and each other.

We lingered in the shower for another twenty minutes or so, and then we went back to the locker room and pulled into our clothes to head for the nearest hotel. Two days later, when I reported back aboard, I had a raw ass, hamburger for a dick, and that Aussie stud's underwear in my pocket as a souvenir of my time Down Under.

Whenever life gets rough, I pull them out and remember how easy it is to get into a young Aussie stud's pants, but how hard it is to get out of them. Once I remember that, the world seems a very good place, indeed.

There may be no place like home, but if you're headed west, let me tell you something: Oz can keep a young man plenty busy.

 

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