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

Thursday, September 26, 2013

All Male Fiction: Spokes & Strokes

By: Unknown Author
 
 
 
One by one, my four buddies dropped out. Other commitments, they claimed. One couldn't get time off from work. One had a family emergency, one just wimped out, and one decided he'd rather spend Saturday night judging a drag competition.

So, that left me alone with four thousand other bikers, facing a two-day, one hundred and fifty mile cycling trip, not knowing a soul. But hell, I'd paid my registration fee and looked forward to this outing all summer. With or without my buddies, I was going.

They let us through the starting gate in groups of one hundred at 6:30am. I was in the third group. The sun was just creeping over the horizon as we lined up our bikes. I ran a quick, last-minute check over my new black Fuji and made sure my pair of water bottles were full, and then scanned my fellow bikers.

Let me tell you, there was some prime meat there, and all of it stuffed into tight Spandex. It's hard to hide your equipment in biker shorts. Serious cyclists are almost always in such great shape, too; great leg muscles, hard rounded asses and flat bellies. I felt my cock begin to stiffen as I looked around.

Down boy, I thought as I looked down at my crotch. It's probably all straight meat.

I was waiting impatiently for the go flag when I spied him. He was about three bikes further back in the pack, standing with a big silver Cannondale between his legs, looking really relaxed. He hadn't put his helmet on yet, and the wind stirred his thick black hair. There was a hard, handsome angle to his sun-bronzed face, and he had the kind of piercing blue eyes you only read about in books. His short-sleeved jersey was zipped to the neck, but I could see the clear outline of his well-developed pectorals underneath and the clean definition of his biceps and forearms.

Suddenly, he looked my way, and I turned around quickly and pretended to adjust the strap on the back of one of my gloves. I didn't want him to think I was staring. Slowly, though, I turned around again. He was drinking from his water bottle with his head tipped back, his throat muscles working as he swallowed.

The flag came down. The pack surged forward, a rippling sea of colorful helmets and jerseys and bikes as the riders stepped onto their pedals and took off. There was a big archway of bright balloons to pass under, and the families and friends of all the riders stood at the sides applauding and yelling.

My heart hammered with excitement. I'd done these rides before, though never without at least one partner. We turned out onto Highway 50, one lane of which had been marked and set aside for the tour riders. I shifted up onto the big wheel immediately and tore down the pavement. Riding in a pack can be dangerous if a lot of bikes are too close together, so I always like to get up front and away from the others as fast as possible.

Cars whisked by in the left-hand lane. Little kids pressed their faces to windows, wide-eyed and excited by all the bikes. Drivers waved to us out of rolled-down windows, just as excited, but with a more adult demeanor. Some cars pulled off onto the shoulder and parked to watch us go by.

One had a sign taped to the back bumper that said, "Go all the way, Becky!"

Yeah, there were a few women on this ride, too. Becky's friends stood by their car with cameras and camcorders, screaming and yelling.

I'd had a new aero-bar installed on my handlebars. That's a kind of sharply bent, U-shaped bar that extends out in front of your normal bars. You can lie down almost flat, reach out, and really pedal like hell. It cuts down on wind drag, too, so I was going all out.

Ten miles down the highway, I braked and pulled into the first rest stop. Depending on the terrain, there were rest stops positioned every six to ten miles on the tour. I parked my Fuji, took off my gloves, and walked over to several tables under a big tent, and helped myself to an orange wedge.

There were lots of bikers gathered around from the first two packs, riders who hadn't pushed on yet. From this point on, the packs would begin to string out and mingle into one long line of bikers.

As I swallowed a bite of orange, he pulled in. His face gleamed with sweat. Beads of it rolled off the tip of his nose as he unstrapped his helmet and leaned back on his bike seat. Slowly, he got off, peeled off his jersey, stuffed it into a tiny ball, and shoved it into the small pack under his seat.

I just about choked on my orange. His nipples were brown and erect, large as half-dollars. His chest was absolutely smooth, his belly ridged with hard muscle. A tiny patch of black hair extended from just below his navel down into the top of his black biker shorts.

He pulled his water bottle from its rack and poured it over his head. The water ran in streams through his hair, down his face, in beads over that chest and into his shorts. Then he carried the empty bottle over to one of several tanks and proceeded to refill it.

"Good ride isn't it?" he said to me as he passed by on his way back to his Cannondale.

I was too startled to answer immediately.

"It gets harder from here on out," I answered, but he was already gone, astride his bike, where he busied himself over his cyclometer.

The sun was moving higher into the sky now, and the morning was getting warm. With two water bottles on my bike, I had enough to get me to the next rest stop, so I hopped back into the saddle and took off.

We were on country roads now, and the pavement rolled along through farm country over gentle, sloping hills. Volunteers with orange flags waved us in the proper direction at intersections, and farmers and their families sat out on their porches to watch us go by.

I glanced over my shoulder to measure my progress against the other riders. My bare-chested friend was right behind me, pedaling with efficient, relaxed energy. I bent down on my aero-bar again and rushed ahead. Though I loved passing people, I hated to be passed, even by bare-chested, dark-haired hunks like the one who was riding my ass.

I reached the second rest stop about four minutes before he did, and took the time to down a full bottle of water. There was cherry yogurt to eat this time, as well as orange wedges and peanut butter sandwiches. I scooped the yogurt down, refilled my water bottle, and headed back to my bike. Before I took off, I looked around.

He was leaning against a tree, enjoying some shade while he ate his own cup of yogurt. Our gazes met briefly, and I swallowed. In his Spandex shorts, I could see the outline of his thick, soft cock.

I shot off like a rocket down the highway, putting that image out of my mind. This was a bike tour, not a cruise.

Concentrate on your time and speed, and on the distance. There's a long way to go, I silently told myself.

My jersey was soaked with sweat by now. Without slowing, I grabbed one of my water bottles and took a drink. Then I gave myself a squirt in the face to cool myself off. As I pushed the bottle back into its rack, I glanced back. My dark-haired friend was just coming over the summit of a hill about an eighth of a mile back, coming hard.

Well, he wasn't going to catch me. No way. I bent low and settled in for some serious pedaling. The road swept by in a blur beneath my wheels. The wind sang in my ears. I laughed a little because I loved it so much. My body felt like a perfectly functioning machine. I'd trained hard for this ride, honed my muscles, and this was the payoff. This thrill! So what if my buddies had chickened out, who needed them?

I was closing on a pair of riders ahead of me. One of them had a really nice ass wrapped in bright blue Spandex and all stuck up in the air as he worked his pedals. One thing you had to say for these country rides: the scenery was always fantastic. He was obviously in the wrong gear, though, not getting the most reward for his effort, as I surged past, my eye on another string of riders ahead.

Looking down at the cyclometer on my handlebars, I saw I'd come twenty-three miles in well under an hour, that made me feel pretty good.

Then disaster struck. The last rider in the string ahead lost control of his bike and slid sideways. He rolled into the left lane while his fallen bike blocked the right. There was no way I could slow down in time, so I steered desperately for the narrow grassy shoulder. There was about a four inch drop-off between the pavement and the grass and then a steep ditch. My Fuji pitched forward, and I flew over the handlebars.

A sharp pain exploded in the front of my left shin, and then I hit the ground, the wind knocked out of me, stars bursting inside my skull. The Fuji skidded around and fell beside me in the ditch. Instead of biker gear, the kid who had fallen off his bike wore cutoffs and tennis shoes. A damned beginner and he didn't even seem to be scratched. He stood above me on the pavement, hands on his knees as he stared down at me wide-eyed.

"Hey, you all right, man?" he called. "I hit some gravel and just lost it."

I couldn't answer right away. The wind was still knocked out of me. A lot of bikers were slowing down or pulling over to see what had happened. Then my dark-haired friend pulled up. He parked his Cannondale, whipped off his helmet, threw it down by his bike, and then scrambled down the grassy embankment.

"Are you all right?" he asked in a concerned voice. "I'm a doctor."

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Bisexual Fiction: Special Delivery

By: Tom Allen
 
 
This story isn't technically a bisexual story, but it isn't one that could be put in the straight or all male category. You'll understand once you read it.
 
 
The email was as explicit as it was brief. I was to leave work early, go home and bind myself to the bed in what we called "sensory deprivation mode". That meant I was to wear my hood, with the eye patches closed, and earplugs to deaden any sound.

And then I was to wait.

I blew off some paperwork and forty minutes later I was naked and getting into position. I fastened my legs to the end of the bed with the leather cuffs, carefully placed the spring-loaded hooks for the hand restraints into position, and placed the hood over my head.

Damn, it's dark in here. And quiet.

I lay back carefully and wriggled my wrists over the hooks. They caught and fastened, and I tugged to be sure that they were secure. The very last click is a frighteningly erotic moment, because at that point, I'm completely immobilized. I can twist and turn a bit, but there's no way that I'm going to escape.

I lay back, trying to settle my mind in the quiet darkness. Breathe in. Hold. Did I leave the light on or off? Exhale. Breathe in. Hold. Did I lock the door? Exhale. Breathe in. Hold. Dammit, I forgot to get the mail. Exhale. Breathe…

And I waited.

So quiet.

So dark.

So calming.

Straight True Experience: The Blind Date

By: Unknown Author
 
 
 
It was a blind date, a date set up by my best friend. I had been expecting the worst of course, some sleazy loser, or that kind of thing; however, Dean was anything but. He was handsome and charming and every bit my type. He was wonderfully romantic, bringing me flowers when he picked me up for the date, and then taking me out for a candlelit dinner at a romantic restaurant.

After dinner we strolled through the park. There was a 'music in the park' event going on, and as we sat in the grass listening to the music, I snuggled into Dean. Not once did he try to cop a feel, a true gentleman.

After the concert ended, we took a drive to the beach. It was quite late and the beach was deserted, with the moon the only source of light. I was terribly attracted to Dean, and in that moment, in that romantic setting, I wanted him. I wasn't a slut, but I also wasn't a prude, either. While I normally didn't sleep with guys on the first date, I had never met someone like Dean before, someone I was so very attracted to in every way.

However, I knew that Dean was too much of a gentleman to make a move on me, so I moved out from his side and stepped in front of him, and then leaned in and kissed him. Soon our tongues met, gently at first and then they became entwined, rougher, harder as we became more passionate. He knew now that I had given him permission to go ahead, and he gently lay me down on the soft sand.

With his knees straddling my body and his arms on either side of my head, he moved his mouth to mine again, and then down to my neck, and then worked his way from my neck down to my breasts. After nuzzling them for a moment, he began to unfasten my blouse and then reached under me and unclasped my bra. My breasts burst out into view and he immediately lowered his mouth to them and began licking and sucking on my nipples, bringing them to attention.

As he continued to suck on my nipples, I reached under him and undid the fly of his pants, pulling out his erect cock. He moaned as I began to gently stroke it. I couldn't see it, but from what I could feel Dean had a rather thick and large cock. I could feel myself getting wet as I felt it and imagined how it would feel stretching my pussy wide.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Bisexual True Experience: Mum-bi

By: pussnboots300
 
 
 
My husband and I are Americans, very much in love, and, due to a work assignment of my husband’s, were living in Mumbai for a couple of years when this happened.

It was my fortieth birthday and we were having a celebration at a nice restaurant with a few good friends we had made in Mumbai. I had been drinking all evening and was slightly tipsy. My husband looked so handsome that all I wanted to do was fuck him that night. Actually I enjoy fucking my husband. He is the sweetest and most handsome thing I have ever set my eyes on, and I love him dearly.

We have a great sex life and love to spice it up with different things. Like, I discovered that Brad (not his real name) enjoys having his asshole played with once in a while. We have great sex, with me putting a finger into his butt and making him squirm with sexual joy. Once, I purchased a thin vibrator and, after playing with Brad’s butt with my fingers, put the vibrator inside him. What a wonderful time we had! Tonight I was going to fuck him all night!

Party over and on the way home, I was caressing his cock in the car practically the entire time. We reached home and had hardly closed the door before I had my skirt up and his cock inside my hot, wet, and very willing cunt. Needless to say he came very fast and I was feeling frustrated. Just to tease him I said that maybe I should take on a lover to satisfy me at times like these.

Instead of getting mad, Brad actually laughed and said that perhaps I should. I wasn’t sure if he was joking around or would actually be into doing something like that, so, to test the waters, I started to tell him what all I could do with another man, and soon Brad was rock hard and pumping me again. He lasted much longer this time and I had a good orgasm!

Soon we found ourselves enjoying this fantasy of me having sex with two men. I always got quite turned on whenever we talked about it during sex, and one day confessed to Brad that I would like to actually try it for real. I was now past forty and past caring. While I still looked good, now, I knew if I waited too long this fantasy may not happen. I really loved my husband and was unable to look past him, but was willing to have a short term sexual relationship with a man to try out these new found desires.

Brad thought the idea of doing it for real was really hot, but wondered how we were going to go about finding a decent, good looking guy to have sex with. We thought about that over the next while, but came up blank. It wasn’t like we had ever done anything like this before, so we were a bit clueless.

It wasn’t until I got a junk email that we figured out what to do. It was one of many adult junk emails that always seemed to fill my junk mail folder, which I usually just deleted, but, given our dilemma, I took a look through them. There was one from a website called Adult Friend Finders. I read over the advert, and then visited the site, signed up and placed an ad.

After many attempts, I found a number of couples that seemed alright, but no single men. Brad by now had given up and the task was left to me. I thought that if I did not find a man, another couple might be an option instead, although I really just wanted my husband and another man in bed with me – that was my fantasy.

A few months passed and I too thought that this was an exercise in futility and virtually gave up the idea. As usual, life had other ideas.

That morning at my gym (yes I try and work out on a regular basis and keep my short but average frame quite fit), I dropped a small weight on the floor. A nice looking young man bent over to pick it up. His name was Tim (name changed), a white guy, who appeared to be American like us. As I would come to learn, he was actually Canadian, and just visiting, working out at this Gym during his stay. The guy was really young, perhaps not more than twenty-two or twenty-three. We exchanged pleasantries and went back to our workouts.

Over the next few days I would always see Tim at the Gym and we would talk. One evening he asked me out for a coffee. Brad was out of town and I decided to accept his invitation.

Tim was courteous and sweet as we drank our coffees, but I realized that he seemed less talkative, shy almost, which was not the case at the Gym, so I asked him what was on his mind. With a little prodding, he finally managed to say that he found me attractive. I was surprised. Not by the fact that he knew I was married, at least I assumed he did by the wedding ring on my finger, but that a man his age was interested in me, in a sexual way. I asked him how old he actually was and he told me he was twenty-one.

Until that point I had never even considered that Tim might be a possible candidate for me and my husband, what with his young age and all. Who would have thought a young guy like him would be interested in someone my age? But, by his own admission, he was, and that changed everything. I decided to take matters further; maybe if I took the lead I might have my fantasy. I suggested that we ditch the coffee house and go out for a real drink instead. Tim accepted my invitation.

At the pub, and after a few drinks, soon Tim was sitting really close to me and I was enjoying the attention. The pub was dimly lit but I could see that he had an erection. Obviously I knew what he wanted, but since it didn’t seem like he would ever make a move on me, not wanting this opportunity to pass me by, I just went for it and asked him point blank if he would like to have a purely sexual relationship with me. His response was immediate and positive.
 
With things now in motion, it was then that I went over some conditions with him. The first was that my husband would be a part of it. That raised some questions with him, the first being, would my husband just be watching or taking part? I told him that my husband would be taking part, it would be a threesome. Next he wanted to know if by threesome, I meant I would expect him and my husband to do things to each other, too. I assured him that my husband was straight, although he did enjoy me using my finger and even a vibrator in his butt. Tim’s face didn’t really show what he thought about that, nor did he ask if I would want to do that to him.

I went on to name the next condition, which was, if we did this, he could not tell anyone about it. My third and final condition was that he had to fully understand that it would just be sex and nothing more, that I was in love with my husband, and I could have sex with Tim without loving him, yet knowing him to be a decent guy. Tim agreed to all of my conditions, and was very excited by the whole thing, as was I. He then wrote down the phone number of where he was staying on a napkin so that I could contact him when things had been arranged with my husband.

We soon left the pub and, after telling him I would give him a call the minute things were set, we said our goodnights and parted ways. As I drove home, I was smiling the entire way. Brad would be shocked when he heard what I had managed to do, but also very excited!

**********

After nearly a week away, Brad was due back that evening, around seven, and I knew that he would be sexually charged, so I gave Tim a call to tell him it was on for that night, if he was available. He was, and I told him I would call him back shortly with the time and place.

After hanging up from Tim, I called and rented a suite at a very nice hotel. I then called Tim back and gave him the name of the hotel, the room number, and told him to be there at 8:45pm, sharp.

After that, I spent some time at the beauty parlor and really did myself up. If I was going to have my fantasy then I was going to look and feel sexy. I then purchased some new sexy lingerie. When I got home, I got in the bath, bathed and shaved my legs, as well as my pussy. Later I slipped on the lingerie.

Before I left for the hotel, I laid out some nice, but loose fitting clothes for Brad to wear, and then left him a note saying: “Come to Room 1011 at the (name of hotel) for sex, sex and more sex with your horny wife. There will be a second key to the room waiting for you at the front desk. Enter without knocking and quietly come to the bedroom. Be there at 9pm sharp, not earlier please.” I stuck the note on the back of the front door, where I knew he would see it right away, and then left for the hotel.

At the hotel, I went about setting the mood for the evening’s event, soft music, dim lights and aromatic candles in the bedroom, while I awaited Tim’s arrival.
 
Tim arrived at about 8:55pm, ten minutes later than I had said, but that was ok, we still had a bit of time before my husband’s arrival. I had answered the door in just my lingerie, and Tim’s eyes bugged out as he took in my nearly naked body. I noticed the front of his pants moving.

However, along with his arousal, I could also sense his confusion because Brad wasn’t there. I explained that I had arrived earlier and that Brad would be along in just a few minutes. This relaxed him and I moved to him and pulled his shirt over his head. Tim then removed his shoes and socks and then his pants. He had a body to die for. Then again he was just twenty-one and a regular at the gym. I then took his hand and led him to the bedroom.

Monday, September 9, 2013

All Male True Experience: Supermarket Meat

By: Dermotmalone1
 
 
 
I first saw him in the supermarket of all places. He was standing at the Deli counter and his back was to me. I couldn't help but notice how well he filled out the jeans he was wearing. He had a nice firm round ass. He stood around 5'10 and was nice and lean without being skinny. His hair was cut short, not buzzed, but very short.

I didn't want to seem obvious or look like a pervert so I just walked around and got a glimpse of his face. He was cute, and although I wouldn't call him drop dead gorgeous he had an air of sexuality about him. Trying not to be obvious, I tried to check out his package but his coat was covering most of it. I knew he saw me looking at him but he didn't give me any signals whether he was interested or not. So I just got my deli order and continued my shopping.

Standing in the frozen food aisle, I saw him coming towards me. This time his coat was undone which gave me a good view of his package. All I can say is that he filled out his jeans nicely. He stopped a few feet from where I was standing and proceeded to pick out some frozen items. This time our eyes met, however he didn't respond in a way that led me to believe he was interested.

After paying for my groceries I proceeded to the exit. As I was approaching the doors we came face to face again. By now my cock was getting hard, and I motioned for him to go in front of me and stared at his ass as he walked out to the parking lot.

I got to my car and loaded my groceries into the trunk. Then, just as I was opening the door to get in my car, another car pulled up beside mine and a voice called out, "Get everything you wanted?"

I turned and saw the guy I had been cruising sitting in the car. My mouth went dry but I managed to respond, "Not everything."

Rubbing his cock through his jeans he then said, "Is this what you were looking for?"

I was really taken aback by this but looked directly at his crotch and nodded.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

All Male Fiction: Workout Buddies

By: Unknown Author
 
 
 
Tim had been going to the gym for several months now. He went every weekday morning at 6:30, worked out for an hour, and then went directly to work. He had gotten in decent shape, and was now starting to define some individual muscle groups so he could really get buff. However, he also had another motive for going so religiously; he got off on seeing other guys naked.

Fortunately at his gym, everyone went bare once they were in the locker room, so he got to satisfy his inner need daily. Today, as he walked to the showers, he covertly glanced at a couple of nice butts. He'd never picked up anyone at the gym, and decided it probably wasn't a good idea.

As he rounded the corner into the communal shower stall, he stopped abruptly. Standing at the four-person shower pole was a really hot guy that had just joined the gym. Tim had noticed him when he first joined, but each time the guy was always on his way out. Tim couldn't believe he was finally getting to see him naked.

The guy was probably 6' 6", and had a perfect body. Tim caught his hesitation and quickly moved up to take the open showerhead next to the giant. Although Tim was 6' himself, he felt little next to the big guy. He was able to get in a few hidden glances as he showered, and really liked what he saw.

The guy was really built - massive pecs, rigid, muscled abs, his arms and legs were like tree trunks. He was also very good-looking. His dick didn't hang down much, but Tim knew you couldn't judge the size of a guy's cock when it was soft, and knew that this guy's probably grew to some thick massive piece of meat to match the rest of his large muscled frame. Tim had to really concentrate to keep his cock from stiffening as he took in the stud's nakedness.

When the big guy finished showering and proceeded to towel off, Tim covertly glanced around at the other two guys showering, and they were watching this guy as much as he was. Of course Tim knew they were just envious of his body and weren't looking for the same reason as him.

Tim decided to start going to the gym an hour earlier from now on, in hopes of seeing this hot stud in the showers again, and it worked out well, as the guy usually ended up arriving at the gym just a few minutes after Tim. He decided to forgo his thoughts about it not being a wise idea to try to pick up a guy at the gym, and said hello when the guy wandered over to the weights where Tim was working out. The guy returned his greeting and introduced himself as Greg.

Tim would time it perfectly so that he would always end up in the showers around the same time as Greg, and within a few days the two had struck up small talk as they showered. The small talk was mainly about body building and Tim was elated when Greg asked, since he was new at the gym and Tim worked out at the same time, if he would be his workout buddy. Of course Tim agreed, and the very next day they began working out together.

On Friday morning, as they were leaving to go to their respective jobs, Greg asked Tim if he was working out Saturday morning. Tim usually slept in, but readily said yes.

The next day, at that early hour on a Saturday, the gym was pretty empty, and with no one else waiting to use the various exercise equipment, they were both able to have a good long workout. Since neither had to rush off to work, Greg said he was going to take a soak in the hot tub and invited Tim to join him.

As they soaked together in the hot tub, naked, Greg asked Tim if he had had breakfast before coming to the gym. Tim had not and thought Greg was going to suggest grabbing a bite to eat after the gym. His cock twitched under the foamy water when Greg asked if he would like to go back to his apartment to have breakfast, explaining that he always liked to make big breakfasts on Saturdays after working out, but ended up throwing half of it away because he couldn't eat it all.

Tim accepted Greg's invitation, although he was hungry for something other than breakfast. He had started to get the vibe that Greg might like men, too, and hoped that the invite to Greg's apartment for breakfast was leading up to something else.

After they showered, Greg pulled on a pair of very short fleece shorts, without any underwear, and picked up his bag and keys and the two headed out.

Greg's apartment was only a few blocks away, and when they arrived Greg motioned for Tim to follow as he headed to the kitchen, telling Tim his specialty was making pancakes. With a rear view, Tim was half-hard watching Greg prepare the breakfast in his skimpy shorts.

When they both had big stacks on their plates, Greg suggested they sit down on the small couch and watch some TV. Tim expected the athletic Greg would switch on ESPN; he was surprised when Greg squatted down in front of the entertainment center and opened a door, revealing numerous porn videos.

While Greg remained crouched searching for a particular video, Tim noticed Greg's that balls had slipped and were hanging out one leg of the tiny shorts, which were tight across his muscular, melon-shaped ass cheeks.

Greg inserted a video and sprawled on the couch next to Tim. He spread his long, bare legs, touching Tim's leg with his knee. He made no move to stop the contact, and Tim did not draw back from the touch, either.

"Hope you like some good porn. As you can tell, I have a good collection."

Tim was expecting to see straight porn, and was surprised as the video progressed to see one of the two men, who were both doing things to the woman, take the other guy's cock in his mouth.

Sunday, September 1, 2013

All Male Fiction: Surveillance

By: Tommyhawk1
 
 
 
The van was perched in an alley behind some buildings that had seen better days. I carried a Thermos of coffee and a big brown bag that held my lunch and a bag of potato chips. Nothing else. In my line of work, you have to watch yourself on these long watches. You can gain ten pounds a week without noticing.

The van door opened as I approached. Flannery. "Thank God you showed up, Pierce."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Hey, you never know," he said. "I do these surveillances, I find myself thinking how I could be stuck here forever, you know?"

"You've been alone too long," I said semi-sympathetically.

"Well, it's your turn now," he said. "Oh, by the way, the television in the van is out."

"Shit."

"On purpose," he went on. "Big brass said that we had to keep our eyes on the suspect. Guess they're afraid you'll be too busy watching the late, late movie to notice when he gets dressed and leaves."

"Is he in bed?"

"Yeah, just got in," Flannery said. "So hurry up and confirm he's safe in bed so I can get the fuck out of here."

I got in the van and looked at the screen. A one-room apartment, currently the bed in center, the view magnified for a close-up. "Yeah, that's our baby," I said.

"Thanks." Flannery got out of there. "Have fun watching him snore. Remember, the television set is broken and so is any radio you brought along with you. They check up on you and find you not watching that screen like it's a suspense drama, your ass is grass and they've got the hedge-trimmers ready."

"Your ass," I said. "Go on, get out of here."

Hell, Flannery was right. We work an eight hour shift, and our job is to watch a suspect for any suspicious activity. The hell of it is, a twenty-four hour surveillance is dull as hell. If you had a buddy with you, you could talk, maybe. Without one, the television set was your best friend, even the small-screen model. One eye on an old movie, the other on a sleeping suspect. Except they didn't trust us poor low-level slobs to do both at once.

I saw motion and concentrated on the screen. The guy was getting a phone call. Cell phone set to vibrate, I hadn't heard a phone ring. I made a note. We'd have to find out the cell phone number and put a trace on it. All my suspect did was listen, then he said good-bye (I got that much voice on the tape, anyhow) and hung up. He'd sat up on the bed.

I knew who he was, from his file. Jackson Heath, a small-time hood running with the Kragen gang. His name had come up on a half-dozen cases, and we were hoping he was the key that would unlock the entire organization. The file had contained a picture of him. Young, dark-haired, that too-cute punk that seems to crop up time and again. I'd known that.

I hadn't known, though, what a totally gorgeous body this guy had on him. I worked the controls to get a better look, pulling back to see all of him. Wide shoulders with magnificent arcs of biceps, just a dusting of hair on his forearms, heavier coverage on his lower legs, and an enticing line from his navel down to the bush hidden in his briefs. The chest was smooth and washboard like, narrowing to a so-slender waist, the legs lithe and nicely muscled and beautiful.
 
I was getting all this from the equipment we had in the room, the cameras used a combination of infrared and enhanced technology to give me the best possible image. There was also a good bit of light coming from the windows. I got him in a sort of bluish glory.

And then he turned on the light. My computer went from infrared bluish color to full-flesh glory! Then he lay back on the bed. Peculiar. The FBI agent in me got alert for a while. He must be waiting for something. Somebody. I got ready to record whatever happened next. Whatever he did, it would be preserved for prosperity and any case that came from it.

Only he wasn't doing anything much. Lying on the bed with the covers beside him in the light, his beautiful body splayed out. One hand was up and brushing lightly over his chest, that idle movement of a man who had been awakened and couldn't sleep or didn't want to.

Brushing up and down those wonderful muscles, the tips caressing the hairs into dozens of scintillating fibers upon his skin. The sound system we had bugged his apartment with was delicate enough to pick up the soft "oooh!" sound he made as his fingers wandered southward down his body. Then again, the delicate sigh, "ooohhhh!"

And now that hand went down to his briefs, the old, worn, sagging things he wore were scant hindrance as he felt out his manhood and gripped his hardening prick.

"Shi-i-i-i-i-it!" I said as I peered at the screen. Hell, this was better programming than I'd get on the television even if it had been working (and we had satellite!) Didn't this guy know we were taping him? I thought he did. Word was he had been told by the leak in the department we hadn't plugged yet.

But if he did know... "Shi-i-i-i-it!" I said again.

He was fishing in his briefs now, both hands, working his dick now, his hands busy inside his briefs. He knew I was here. The fucker was putting on a show for me!