All Male Fiction: Bob and the Soccer Team (Part 1)

By: amtibbs

 

 

 

Bob was angry. He wasn't a towel boy. He was a student manager at the college gym. More specifically, Bob managed the locker room used by many of the college's men's teams. Sure, the football and basketball teams were important enough to rate their own dedicated locker rooms, but when it came to the second tier sports like soccer, if you were on the team and wanted a clean towel, you came to Bob. Well, perhaps the towel was a bad example - he did much more than hand out towels.

I should probably first tell you a bit about Bob. I didn't meet him until after he had graduated from college. I've seen college photos of him and I would describe him as an average guy. He's currently about 5'10" and 160 pounds with dark brown hair and blue eyes. Back in college he was too busy with classes and working as a student manager at the college gym to work out on a regular basis. Nevertheless, he still had a toned, if not muscular, body and wouldn't be embarrassed to take off his shirt at the beach.

Bob grew up in a home where school was more important than sports. Consequently, while he played baseball, shot baskets and threw around a football with other kids in the neighborhood, he never played on a school team and his family didn't watch sports on TV. To this day, if you ask him sports trivia, like who played on some championship baseball team, he's at a total loss. His brain just wasn't wired to remember that stuff as he grew up.

Now you're probably wondering about Bob's sexuality. If you ask Bob, he'll tell you it's none of your damn business. I think you need to know a bit more to understand Bob. In my opinion, Bob is seventy to eighty percent heterosexual. I know he only dates women now, but I also know that Bob doesn't mind a bit of male on male body contact either. I was kidding him about being around all those naked guys in the locker room and he said he didn't think he could have worked there if he was gay. When I asked him why, he said "it would be like a diabetic working in a candy store" or something like that. On the other hand, Bob said the fact that he had always admired the body of a good looking guy made going to work at a place where he could observe them a pleasant experience, despite the crap that came with the job.

Bob didn't lose his virginity until he was a sophomore in college. He was shy in those days and his right hand was his best friend until the semester he took an evening class and met this girl. He told me he'd walk her to her car after class and they'd stand there and talk, sometimes for an hour or more. Then she would drive off and he'd walk back to his dorm. One cool, fall night they got into the back seat of her car to talk and, well, you probably don't want to hear about that.

Bob never really had a steady girlfriend while in college. His parents continually drilled the importance of studying over everything else and, since they were paying, he felt obligated to bring home the grades. But that wasn't all bad, and while Bob didn't get all the sex he wanted, "even a blind squirrel finds a nut once in a while" he jokes today.

Now that you know a little bit about Bob, let's continue.

It was Bob's second and last season managing the locker room for the soccer team. Bob hated soccer season. The 'pretty' boys on the soccer team seemed to thrive on harassing him. For players of a second tier sport at the college, they thought their dirty jockstraps didn't stink. But they did stink, especially when they'd grab him and pull their sweaty jocks over his head. Bob dreamed of payback. Unfortunately, every idea he came up with would result in him losing his job, his recommendation or getting beaten to a pulp.

Towards the end of the season, and after being thrown in the shower for the third time in his clothes, Bob decided that his best course of action would be something that the players might not even find out about but would follow them for the rest of their lives.

All Male True Experience: Venice Views

By: veniceguy2004

For those of you unfamiliar with Venice Beach, CA, it's very much a beach city. Lots of tiny bungalows, cottages, and apartments all packed tightly together, with winding streets (some of them walking streets only) and alleys winding their way through the neighborhood. A few days ago, after hanging out at a friend's place, listening to him cranking out some tunes on his guitar while having a few beers, I was really buzzed and tired, so I headed home.

I was taking my usual route, walking down a fairly dark and private alley lined mostly with the cottage-style apartments I described. It was past midnight so most of the windows were dark, but here and there you'd see someone watching TV or catch sight of someone's head. Most of the lit windows, though, had drawn curtains or blinds, so you couldn't see in.

But as I walked past this one window, set back about fifteen feet from the alley, out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of flesh. It was hard not to notice. The main light in the room was on and even though the curtains were drawn closed, the window was open and the breeze had pushed them away from the window enough so that along the right side there was about a two-inch gap between the curtain and the window frame. So you could see some of the room through this long sliver - which of course got me totally interested. And since it was really dark in the area of the alley where I was, I decided to move in for a closer look without worrying too much about anyone catching me peering into someone's window.

What I saw next was pretty wild. Looking through that little slit, I could see directly into a tall, floor-length mirror propped up against the wall. And in the mirror's reflection, I could pretty much see most of the room - a cluttered, tiny bedroom that's typical of a lot of these places. Books piled high, a bike in the corner, clothes in a pile on the floor, a futon mattress, and standing in a corner of the room was some dude, clad only in a pair of boxers, leafing through a book.

He was very much the beach bum type - not too messy but kind of scruffy in a pretty hot way. I'd guess he was in his mid-twenties, definitely no older than thirty, with dark blond hair that was buzzed military style, and a bit of a goatee. As for the build, he was defined but tall and lean, probably about six feet tall, with a bit of hair on his chest, a bit on his legs, and a really hot trail of hair starting near his belly button and leading down towards his crotch. Definitely a guy you'd notice on the street, at least I would!

As I looked him over, he put the book down on the pile of other books and then moved across the small room to his futon. Then, right then and there, he slid his underwear down and off and plopped down on the futon, leaning against the wall, with his legs stretched out in front of him.

Nice cock, I thought as I looked at it lying across his leg joint.

I figured, being that it was after midnight, and by his actions, that he was probably going to bed. But he started checking himself out as he flexed a bit, patted his stomach, and tugged on his taut belly, looking for fat that wasn't there. Then he leaned forward, reached under the futon frame, and pulled out a magazine.

Holy shit! This guy's gonna beat off! I thought.

Sure enough, he lay back again, opened up the magazine beside him on the bed, and started thumbing through it. And in no time at all, I could see him starting to get hard, without even touching himself.

By now my heart was beating super-fast and I was already rock hard! But I suddenly got paranoid, so I stepped away and looked up and down the alley to make sure no one was coming. The coast was clear, so I went back to spying on the guy, only to find him now pounding away, jerking off this really big, cut dick.

I was so turned on I couldn't stand it, so I unzipped my shorts, yanked out my dick, and started pounding it while I watched the guy. It was so hot I just about shot my load right away, but I paced myself, wanting to cum at the same time or at least after he did.

Soon enough, at the point when he stopped paying attention to the magazine and just leaned back, closed his eyes, and started stroking his balls with one hand while jerking his cock with the other, I knew he was close. So I picked up my pace, and as he started blowing a big load all over his abs and chest, I let loose right there outside his window. Talk about hot!

I've been by a few times since to see if maybe, just maybe, I might catch the guy in the act again. But so far, I haven't had any such luck.

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All Male Fiction: Summer Heat

By: Unknown Author

 

 

 

Having finally graduated from college, I was ready to kick back by my parents' pool for the summer. I figured there was nothing like the long hard muscles of a swimmer and the bronze of a full-body tan to bring the cocksuckers out of the water… and into my pants. I would spend the summer working on improving my bait. My folks were in Europe, and the neighbors had just moved out. The resulting privacy would be just what I needed to throw a few humdinger, midnight skinny-dipping parties.

I was relaxing in a poolside lounge chair, soaking up the rays, reading one of my favorite "boy-meets-boy, boy-fucks-boy" magazines. I was totally naked and totally hot, and not because of the sun. I balanced the magazine on my stomach with one hand while my other went down to explore my lengthening cock. I squeezed my balls and rubbed my hand up the length of my rod, lifting the magazine to watch the natural lube ooze from the soft, round tip of my meat. I pinched some of the goo onto my fingertips and brought it to my mouth.

The taste and feel of my own juice has always made me wish I could suck my own cock. I was about to grab hold of my cock and do the next best thing when I heard a scraping at the fence, ten feet away. I looked up. Looking over the fence there was a guy, grinning.

"Hi. Kurt," he said.

I dropped my magazine over my protruding cock and managed not to jump out of my skin. "Geez, you scared me," I said to this apparent stranger who seemed to know my name. "What're you doing over there? I thought that house was empty."

He was still grinning. I wondered how much he had seen. As I recovered from my shock, I began to notice his dimples, his brilliant blue eyes, and his red hair. The guy had a beautiful face.

"Not exactly empty," he said. "Well, I'm not surprised you don't recognize me. I guess I've changed since you saw me last."

It all started to fall into place. That red hair, those blue eyes... could this be the skinny, freckly kid with braces who used to come and swim with my little sister? "David?"

"Bingo," he said. "When we moved three years ago my folks rented the house out. Now I'm starting at the university here, and I get to live here, with some roommates. But I haven't got the roommates yet. So where's Susan?"

"She's starting school back east. She wants to get a jump on the housing situation, so she's already left. Nobody else is home but me. Too bad, Susan would probably like to see you again," I said.

"Oh well," he said. "So how's the water?"

"Great. Come on over for a swim if you'd like."

"Perfect! Be right over."

I hid my stroke magazine under an old issue of Time, and then stood up and grabbed my towel and wrapped it around my waist to cover my now almost soft, but still swollen, thick cock. Beating off would just have to wait.

David was soon banging at the locked gate.

The body his white Speedos barely covered was gorgeous; slender but hard and muscular, and bound by soft-looking, unblemished, cream-colored skin. He was still shorter than me, but only by about an inch. He sported a nipple ring, and his skimpy suit was filled with a generous mound of flesh that suggested a very nicely sized cock and balls.

"God damn," I sputtered. "I mean, I remember having to look a foot and a half down at you the last time I saw you." I managed to look away from his crotch and back into his face, which was somehow sexy and cherubic at the same time. Maybe it was his sensuous lips.

David laughed. "Well, I must say that you on the other hand haven't changed very much. You're looking good. Still working out, huh?"

I cast a sideways glance at him. Looking good? "Come on in," I said, and led him to the side of the pool.

 

David sat down on the edge of the pool and slid himself into the water. Rather than swimming, he lowered himself until the water came up to his shoulders, and then raised himself up again and waded to the other side and lay back, resting his head against the side, his body facing me. The water came up just enough to surround his bulge. With his Speedos now wet, it hugged his cock and balls, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. I felt a twinge run down my guts and into my cock as I took it in. Realizing I was staring at his crotch, my eyes trailed up to his face and he seemed to be looking at me with a bit of a proud smirk on his face, as though he enjoyed showing off his ample package.

Caught, I diverted my eyes from his by turning on my heels and then moved to lie down in the lounge chair. As I did so, he hoisted himself up and got out of the water, and began to dry himself off. He then moved over to stand by the other lounge chair next to mine, the outline of his cock and balls still prominently on display in his wet Speedos, only now it was right at my eye level.

 

"I brought some sunscreen," he said. "You know this skin wasn't meant for much sun, and living in Alaska I haven't gotten much." He sat on the lounge chair and began to spread the lotion on his body. I watched him, trying not to look too interested as we talked.

When he finished, he said, "Would you mind putting a bit of this on my back? If I don't cover myself from head to toe, I know I'll be sorry."

All Male Fiction: The J.O.C.K. Club (Part 3)

By: MrCreamJeans & Ryan Michaels

 

 

 

Read Part 2 | Read Part 1

 

Tuesday couldn't come fast enough for either boy. Kenny had called the J.O.C.K. meeting for the morning break – right after second period when Kenny and Jon shared a class. Kenny had something special planned for Jon.

Social Studies, as usual, was a crashing bore. The teacher droned on and on about different forms of government while most of the class tried to stay awake. Jon and Kenny were definitely up – in more ways than one. Kenny had hoped that he'd be able to watch Jon doing it in class this time. But while Jon's seat was just in the next row, it was two behind Kenny's, so Kenny couldn't really check out the action without calling attention to his friend.

But that was ok today because Kenny was out to give Jon an extra turn-on. As they sat in class, with each boy steadily fingering his boner through his pocket, Kenny tried to time his surprise for maximum effect. He decided to cum quickly, at least ten minutes before the end of class. And, of course, he positioned himself so Jon would see the wet spot forming.

After jacking most of the period, with twelve minutes to go, Kenny quietly began releasing his cum into his pants. He didn't bother sitting up the way he did the last two times. He just remained slouched in his seat, his hand deep in his pocket, with his squirting boner poking straight up into the fabric of his loosest, baggiest jeans. The stain was shiny and very, very obvious. He was sure Jon could see it very clearly.

Suddenly, Kenny sat up and leaned over, resting his elbows on his desk. He had worn a shorter-than-usual t-shirt over his baggy pants. When he leaned forward like that, several inches of his boxers were exposed in the back – right where Jon could see them. He was sure Jon would notice.

Jon noticed all right. He had been on the verge of orgasm as he watched the hot cum soaking through Kenny's jeans. But when he saw Kenny's boxers showing, that took him way over the edge. What Kenny didn't know, though, was that Jon was wearing Kenny's cum-stained boxers! Poor Jon was so intensely turned on by seeing Kenny cum, and then feeling his own juice soaking into the same boxers Kenny squirted in, he couldn't control his orgasm the way he usually could.

Kenny heard a small grunt, followed by a cough, and he knew Jon was totally getting off in the next row. It was everything he could do not to turn around and look.

Jon's gaze was riveted on his buddy's boxer display as spurt after spurt of his creamy load literally filled Kenny's soft, old boxers. He was having trouble keeping his hips from thrusting with each wad. He finally sat up and took his hand out of his pocket, but his balls weren't going to stop until they had completely emptied themselves inside his pants.

After about a minute Kenny thought he heard Jon breathing again, so he risked turning around and looking. Even with Jon sitting Kenny could tell it had been a massive orgasm. He looked into Jon's face and grinned. Jon just shook his head slowly.

When the bell rang, both boys stood up and clutched their books to their laps. When they were out in the hall, Kenny said, "Well?"

Jon feigned anger. "You did that on purpose, leaned forward, and showed off your boxers to me."

Kenny couldn't help giggling. "Yup, I thought you'd like that."

"Well, the joke's on you, dude," Jon said. He pulled his books away just enough for Kenny to see the really big wet spot, and then he pulled his t-shirt up so Kenny could see that the mess of cum was in Kenny's own shorts!

"Fuck! You jizzed my boxers," Kenny said, sounding incredulous.

Before Jon could respond they had turned the corner to see the J.O.C.K group. Jon dropped his t-shirt and put his books back in front of him. As they approached they were seen by some of the other guys, and the guys parted their protective circle, and Kenny and Jon saw Rod, the usual winner of the wet spot contest – and he was jacking off through his pants! This meant that Rod had been unable to get off in his last class and was being forced to do it in front of the group.

"Whoa," Jon said. "Let's check this out." He began walking quickly toward the group. Kenny followed.

They arrived just in time to hear someone say, "There it goes!" And with that, Rod was ejaculating in his pants, to the full view of all the guys.

Rod looked up and the first thing he saw was Jon and Kenny staring at the front of his pants. Summoning his willpower, he released his cock and did his best to stand up straight. But his rigid cock was still spilling his milky load inside his pants, and powerful contractions kept him from standing straight for long. He squeezed his legs together like a five-year-old who had to pee, but nothing could stop the flow. Wet streamers appeared down his leg, the final embarrassment for a J.O.C.K. member.

Laughter and taunts erupted from the rest of the guys. Rod looked down at his pants to see a collection of wet blobs and streamers, not the usual big cum stain he usually made. He definitely wasn't going to win this week.

Kenny scanned the rest of the guys looking for exceptional wet spots. There were a few that approached his own, but none even close to Jon's. "Guys," he said. "Take a look at this week's winner." He then gestured to Jon, who moved his books out of the way. Somebody whistled, but most of them stood in stunned silence.

"No way," someone said. "He must've spilled some water on it or something!"

"Nope," Kenny said. "I can vouch for him. He did this in Social Studies class."

"He must've been freeballing then!"

Jon just smiled and lifted the bottom of his t-shirt. A quick moment of anxiety flashed across both Jon's and Kenny's faces when they realized that Jon was exposing the very same shorts that Kenny creamed last week! Jon quickly dropped his shirt hoping nobody noticed.

"Jon's the winner," someone proclaimed. A round of "all rights" and "way-to-go's" followed.

But one guy in the group did notice that Jon was wearing Kenny's shorts. It was Rod. After everyone compared spots and Jon set the meeting for next week (after second period, of course), the group split up. Jon and Kenny went their separate ways, but Rod followed Kenny.

All Male True Experience: Massaging a Stiff Muscle

By: Unknown Author

 

 

I have been doing therapeutic massage for years and have enjoyed many of the men on my table, but that is a different story. Not long ago I was asked to take over my friend's Sunday beach market massage tent while he went on holiday, and I agreed to help him out.

Business was slow, leaving me pretty bored the first two days. That all changed on the third day, though. A guy in jeans and a tee came up with his girlfriend and asked about the price of a massage. I told him the fee varies depending on the type of massage he wanted. He said his leg muscles were very sore from beach volleyball and he just wanted them worked on. I told him the price and he decided to have the massage. His girlfriend said she would check out some of the beach stands while he did so.

I led him into the tent, which was completely private, and told him to take off his jeans and sit up on the table. I was a bit disappointed that he only wanted a leg massage because he was a real hunk and I wanted to see him completely naked. However, I still got a good show, because when he took his jeans off the bulge in those briefs was very nice.

I knelt down in front of him, his crotch at eye level, and began the massage at his ankles all the while watching that delicious bulge. His legs were nicely tanned with a light covering of hair, just the way I like it.

As I got further up his thighs that bulge in his briefs appeared to be getting bigger. At first, I thought it was wishful thinking but it wasn't. I kept my eye on his ever-expanding bulge and soon enough he was hard. Now, lots of guys get erect when they get a massage and it doesn't necessarily mean that they are gay or even bi and I wasn't quite sure what to make of this situation, so I just kept on massaging his legs and enjoyed the show.

All Male Fiction: All You Need to Know

By: Tommyhawk1

 

I got back to my room, my face bright red, my shame complete. What kind of girl goes with you to a make-out party and doesn't want to make out? God, I'd struck out... again!

It sucks being me! Honest! My father was a corporate executive, and we moved around so much I never finished a single grade in school in the same place I'd started it. My test scores had been shuffled around so much that I'd lost so many credits, and now I was a year late graduating. And worst of all, I was a nineteen-year-old virgin!

I'd always been shy around strangers, and doubly so around girls when I hit puberty. It was so much easier to just go home and watch television and pretend I was someone else, someone cool; someone with a life!

Now I was in college, on my own, and ready to live the kind of life I'd never had.

And I knew zilch about girls. Nada, zip, nothing.

I was trying. And God, how I was striking out! I was getting a reputation in college, alright! And boy, was it a lousy one! I was the guy that the girls looked at and giggled to each other about. I was the guy who had fallen into the fountain when I tried to put my arm around one girl and she shrugged it off, I was the guy who had actually tried to sing to a girl in a park. I'd thought we were alone... but we weren't. I was the guy who... ah, to hell with it.

Now I had another embarrassment to my credit. The girl had wanted to go to the party and accepted my invitation. When we got there she sent me after a cola, and when I got back another guy was in my seat, and she was kissing him. I handed her the cola and got the fuck out of there.

And now, here I was, back in my room again, ashamed and alone. Jesus, what was I going to do?

I reached under the bed and pulled out the book I had bought. It was about relationships, what women want, how to communicate, and such. I couldn't figure girls out on my own, so I was trying to read up on them. But this book was leaving out so much! How do you know when a girl is interested? How can you know when to reach in for a kiss... and when you'd better settle for holding her hand, or just sitting there without touching? The book fucking assumed you knew! And I didn't!

"Hey, Mark, you're here," my roommate said as he walked in, and I shut the book and threw my pillow over it like it had been a porno novel or something.

"Hi, Andy," I said.

"I thought you had a date?" Andy said as he bounced down onto the other bed.

I sat up, sheepishly smiling. As much as anyone ever had been, Andy was my friend. I'd only known him for a few short months, but it's a sign of my life that he was the longest friendship I'd ever had. "I thought I had a date, too," I admitted. "But I was wrong."

"What happened?"

"I was just her ticket there," I said. "The moment my back was turned another guy had her."

"Damn, that sucks," Andy said. "So you came back for a bit of inspirational reading," he said, implying that he thought I had been looking at porn.

I realized too late what Andy was doing, which was to reach under my pillow and pull out my book. I made a grab for it, but it was too late. He had it in his hand and was looking at the page, which was, unfortunately, nothing that could possibly be confused with a porn novel.

"Man, what is this?" Andy asked.

"I was trying to figure out how girls tick," I confessed. "I mean, how do you know when a girl is really interested in you?"

"This book isn't going to do that," Andy pointed out unhelpfully.

"I know that... now," I said. "It's just... we moved so much when I was young, I didn't have any of the chances to figure girls out little by little like you did. I mean, people don't act the same in France as they do in Germany and they act even differently in Hong Kong. I don't know shit about girls. Okay, I said it! I suck at dating!"

"Hey, Mark, don't sweat it," Andy said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You can't know what you don't know. Hell, that's what college is for, learning the stuff you didn't learn in high school."

"Thanks a lot," I said. "Which course teaches me how to know if a girl is interested in me?"

"Why that's Girls 101, of course," Andy teased. "All you need to know about how to make it with a girl."

"Cut it out."

But he continued, "Taught ably by one of the best professors, a Mr. Andrew Reinhardt."

That was Andy's name, so I turned and said, "Really?"

"Sure," Andy said. "Why not? I had to learn some stuff from my older sister. How to put my arm around a girl so she won't throw it off and such. I can show you some of that stuff, get you started off right."

"Well... great," I said. "God knows I need all the help I can get!"

"Class is now in session," Andy intoned. He plopped onto the bed next to me and said, "Now, you be the girl and I'll be the guy putting the make on you… the right way. Got it?"

"I got it," I said eagerly.

"Now the first thing a guy does is put his arm around the girl like this," he said wrapping his arm around me. "He doesn't grab her tits right away, he just puts his arm around her to start."

"Okay, got it," I said. Andy's arm felt kind of good there on my shoulders, but I didn't say that out loud.

"And if the girl is interested, she leans in and snuggles up some," Andy went on. "Go ahead," he said.

"Go ahead, what?"

"Snuggle into me."

 "Um, okay," I said and then fit myself so my neck was in his armpit and my cheek was resting partially on his chest. "Like this?"

"Yeah, like that, that's how she'll signal it," Andy replied.

"Signal what?"

"That she's interested stupid! If she wasn't, she wouldn't lean into you. So now that you know she's into you, you can try for a kiss."

"Yeah?" I said pulling away from him and lifting my head up.

"Yeah, but you gotta start off easy and see how far she goes."

"I don't get it," I frowned.

"Let me show you," Andy said and then started moving his face towards mine.

"Dude… what are you doing?" I said leaning back.

"I'm gonna show you how to kiss a girl once you know she wants you to."

"You're gonna kiss, me? But you're a guy," I protested.

"You ever kissed a girl before?"

"Well, no, but I've seen people kiss, it doesn't look that hard. You just put your lips together and, well, kiss."

Andy laughed. "Dude, there's so much more to kissing than that. And, you can't really explain how to do it, you gotta show someone how it's done."

"But…" I started.

"Hey, most guys learn from their buddies," Andy said. "I would have been too scared to approach a girl, too, if my buddy hadn't taught me what to do first, and this is how he taught me. And, look at me now. I've kissed lots of girls and I've had sex with lots of girls, too… what have you done with girls? That's right, nothing!" he said before letting me say anything. "Nineteen and a virgin, never even kissed a girl. So, you want to change all of that?"

I nodded and Andy began to lean into me again. "Wait!" I said pulling away again. "You won't tell anyone about this, will you?"

"Dude," Andy laughed. "Do you honestly think I'm gonna go around and tell all my buddies I made out with another guy? Don't worry, this will be our secret, I promise."

I took a deep breath in. "Okay… show me what to do."