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

Thursday, October 31, 2013

All Male True Experience: My First Orgy

By: STUDDDD
 
 

Last week, I was invited to an all-male sex party. It took place in the basement of a private home, (complete with indoor pool and Jacuzzi – the host was obviously well-off), which was laid end to end with mattresses. I arrived sometime after ten, and about thirty five guys had already shown up and blowjobs were everywhere! I'm an aggressive type so it didn't take long for me to get naked and start to mingle amongst the crowd of horny men.

It wasn't long before I got mixed up with a hung Latino stud that sported the hardest cock I'd ever seen - stuck straight out with a huge head on it, and it never went soft! I sucked him off while he blew another guy… wanted and got my face covered with his cum!

With a nice face-full of hot cum, I moved on to the indoor pool area, some guys frolicking in the water, others getting their cocks sucked on the pool's edge.

All Male Fiction: The Blowjob Test

By: Horny Rick
 
 

Based on a true story. The first part details an actual experience. The part involving "Mark" is pure fiction.
 
**********
 
When I was in college, I shared an apartment with two other eighteen year-old guys. Jerry was a farm boy like me, and Mark was a big city kid from Manhattan. Because we had so much in common, Jerry and I hit it off pretty well. Although we were really busy with our studies during the week, we went out partying every weekend. We both wanted to find girlfriends, but because there were far more guys than girls at our school, there was fierce competition for pussy.

Then, one Friday night, we went to a rowdy singles bar to chase girls, and after hours and hours of trying, we finally gave up. We both drank more than usual and, talking about sex, we both ended up admitting to our limited sexual experience.

Jerry told me far more about himself than I wanted to know. He said he was unsure about his sexual preferences after sprouting a hard-on while watching a gay video once. "There's only one way that I can find out if I'm gay," he said. "I've got to go down on a guy. If I don't like it, I'll know that I'm not gay." There was a long hesitation, then, "Would you? You know, let me suck your cock, Jim?"

All Male Fiction: An Unwilling Cocksucker (Part 1)

"Jacked"

By: Ryan Michaels
ryanxxx@hotmail.com
 
 
 
It was around midnight when Ryan finally left the office to head home. He was up for a big promotion, one that hinged on how well his presentation went the next day, which was what had kept him there so late. Tired, he was eager to get home to his wife and to get some long overdue rest.

As he stood fumbling with his keys in the underground parking garage of his office complex, he didn't even notice anyone coming up behind him until he heard someone say, "Hey you!"

Turning around, he was faced with three teenaged boys of about eighteen, one of them holding a gun, which was pointed right at him.

"Give us all your money!" the one holding the gun demanded.

There were security cameras, but the garage was only used for the office complex, and there was no security on duty at that time of night. So, with a gun in his face and no chance of intervention, Ryan complied and handed over his wallet.

"Now your cell phone!" he ordered.

Ryan complied again.

"Now hand over the keys!" he demanded, putting his hand out.

Giving over his cell phone and wallet was one thing, he only had about thirty dollars in his wallet, and credit cards could be replaced, so could his cell phone, but his car? He'd just bought it, his very first new car. He was still paying for it.

Ryan looked the three boys over. Despite being teenagers, all three had fairly muscular builds. The twenty-eight year old was in good shape himself, hitting the gym several times a week, and thought that he could distract them and take control of the situation.

"Here, take them," Ryan said and extended his hand to offer up his keys. When the guy with the gun went to take them, Ryan let them drop to the ground.

"Pick them up!" the thug demanded.

Ryan bent down to pick them up, and, as he began to straighten back up, he grabbed for the gun. A struggle ensued and then Ryan felt the gun crack him in the head, causing him to fall to his knees, stunned and gasping for air.

Disoriented and with his head hung, he felt a hand latch firmly onto his arm and another grabbing a fistful of his hair, pulling his head up. The one with the gun was standing in front of him, still pointing the deadly weapon at him. He smirked at Ryan, and Ryan felt that he was about to die.

"Please, just take my car and let me go!" he pleaded. "I won't tell anyone about this, I promise!"

The gunman smiled at him. "No, I think you still have more to give us," he said lowering the gun.

Ryan didn't understand. They had his money, his cell phone and his car, he had nothing else to give them. However, just seconds later he fully understood what else they wanted as he watched in horror as the teen thug with the gun unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock.

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Bisexual Fiction: Steamed Up

By: mcamden & Ryan Michaels
 
 

I was tired. My legs were a little shaky going down the stairs, my hair plastered down and my shirt hanging heavy and cold against my body. I felt good, though, because the workout had been just what I had needed to work some of the kinks out of my arms and shoulders. My muscles were now tired, but not as achy as they had been when I'd finally finished putting the new starter in our aging car.

It seemed odd to walk through the gym when it was dark outside, the skylights black and foreboding. I usually worked out in the morning, but I'd been up early to see my wife off for the weekend and then gone right to fixing the car. I was glad that I'd come, though, even though I'd debated just turning on the TV and fixing some dinner. Now I was looking forward to a long soak in the steam room, the real reason that I'd decided to go ahead and work out on this cold winter night.

The locker room was deserted as I stripped out of my clothes. It was such a departure from the bustling morning crowd.

The steam rolled out and the heat rushed at me as I opened the door to the steam room. I stepped inside the small room and spread my folded over towel on the top bench. The odor of the steam and the hot, damp wood was soothing. I sat on the towel and leaned back, briefly hissing at the heat of the wall on my shoulders, but slowly relaxing and accommodating. I slouched some and closed my eyes.

The heat was intense and sweat quickly began to glisten on my naked body. I could feel individual droplets forming and running down, meeting other droplets and continuing. The gentle hissing of the steam lulled me and I recalled the moments before Liz had left this morning...

"Honey," she'd called down to the garage, "could you come up for just a moment?"

I grumbled a little beneath my breath. I was right in the middle of rearranging the trunk contents so that the lid would close.

I mounted the steps, eager to see her off so I could get to work on the repairs. Rounding the corner at the top of the stairs, I stopped cold. Liz was sitting at the top of the stairs. Her long skirt was hiked up and her legs were parted, revealing her beautifully shaven pussy. There were a few drops of glistening dew surrounding her delicate pink lips. Her face wore a playful grin.

"I'm having a little problem, could you help me?" she asked.

"I think I can be of some assistance," I quickly replied, my mouth dry and my pants suddenly growing restrictive.

"I thought you might," she said. "It's this problem with honey..."

"Honey?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"Yes, I can't seem to get it off." With that, she produced a small plastic honey bear in her right hand. I watched transfixed as the spout of the bear slowly yielded a narrow, heavy stream of golden liquid that fell precisely upon Liz's swollen clit and slowly oozed southward, commingling with her own nectar.

"Do you really think you can help?" she asked breathily.

Without a pause I nearly lunged at her, forcing her into a recumbent position as I began to taste the heady concoction of her sex. The sweetness of the honey combined with the earthy taste and aroma of her cunt aroused me fully as I slowly lapped at her, starting just below her pussy and drawing my tongue up and over that moist, beckoning region, to her now engorged pleasure center.

My tongue swirled over her clit, gently yet firmly finding every morsel of honey and devouring it. Her legs moved up to my shoulders, and as she spread them wider to allow me full freedom, her ankles locked behind my neck, pulling my eager face into her. I took her clit between my lips and suckled it, pressing my lips firmly down around the shaft as my tongue danced around the tip.

Her legs pulled my head even closer to her as I slipped first one, then two fingers into her now wet cunt, probing along the pubic bone in search of yet another sensitive spot. My mouth continued to suckle and swirl and one probing finger found its mark as suddenly her legs locked my head securely in place and her body began to gently and rhythmically spasm with the pleasure of her orgasm. I gently slid my fingers from her and released her now sensitized clit from within my lips.

Her legs released my head and she gently pushed me back up to a standing position on the stairs. Moving quickly, she moved down three steps so that she was now straddling my feet. Her hands deftly unfastened my pants and pulled them down, my cock springing free, the tip damp from pre-cum. She reached up and grasped me mid-shaft, and pointed me directly at her mouth. Her lips parted and her wondrous tongue darted out and lapped at the small opening, sampling the clear fluid slowly oozing out.

"Mmm, you taste as good as ever," she said. "Cum for me, quickly." Her right hand moved methodically along the shaft, her left hand cupping my balls, hefting them, squeezing them gently.

She took the tip of my dick into her mouth, her lips stretched around the shaft just behind the head as her tongue migrated directly to the most sensitive area on the underside. Very quickly I could feel my balls beginning to heave, and the spasm pushed through me. My cock jerked once forcefully as the cum erupted from it, all the while her skilled tongue milking me for more.

She released my now softening cock from her mouth, backed up a step and stood and said quietly in my ear, "I'll expect a good hard fuck when I get back, so rest up."

Opening my eyes quickly, I realized that I had drifted off in the hot swirling mists of the steam room. Looking over, I saw that I now had company, a man of about my age, perhaps a few years younger. He looked to be in good shape with a well-toned body enveloped in a sheen of moisture. He was sitting on the same level as I and was quarter turned and facing me.

With a start I realized that he was lazily running his fingertips over his semi-erect penis. I looked up at his face and he smiled.

Sunday, October 27, 2013

All Male Fiction: Trick and Treat

By: Tommyhawk1
 
 
 
It was Halloween, just after sundown, so as representatives of our frat house, we were out on the street in force in our costumes, picking up the pledges (the money kind) we'd gained from our frat house's Halloween Haunted House. I was dressed as Robin, Jack was dressed as the Flash, and Tim was wearing a bandanna and a goatee made from a piece of an old wig. I guess he was a pirate.

The deal was that we'd collect the money on Halloween in an imitation of the kids who asked for candy, only instead of the candy, we were given the checks they were supposed to have ready.

"We might as well skip this house," I said to Jack and Tim as we approached the yellow house with the green shutters. "You remember what happened last year."

"What?" Tim asked. He was new to the frat, I'd said that last part to Jack alone.

"I remember," Jack said. "That's why we're not skipping him this year."
 

"What happened last year?" Tim wanted to know.

"Old Man McCabe," Jack said. "We said 'Trick or Treat' and he said, 'I'll take the trick.'"

"He reneged on his pledge. We just stood there and looked at him, and he laughed and shut the door in our faces," I finished.

"Oh," Tim nodded. "What a jerk. We had one like that when I was a kid, too. One of them in every neighborhood, I guess."

"So why do you want to go back again this year?" I asked Jack. "You know he's just going to do it to us again."

"I'm counting on it," Jack replied. "I'll bet he's still wearing nothing but those ratty old sweat shorts when he does it, too."

"And he probably still has that big bowl of candy he won't give us anything out of," I agreed. A piece of candy was part of the perks we got from our collection rounds. Hey, college kids like candy as much as kids, you know!

"What a jerk," Tim said again.

"So what do we do?" I wanted to know, for we were at his front gate already.

"Just wait until he says, 'I'll take the trick,'" Jack said. "Then we rush him. One of you make sure to close the door behind us, too."

Tim looked questioningly at me and I nodded. "Why not," I agreed.

"Fine with me," Tim chimed in. "The jerk back in my neighborhood, he called me a pussy when I didn't know how to answer him when he said he'd take the trick. What does it even mean, they'll take the trick?"

"It doesn't mean anything," I assured him.

"Sure it does," Jack said as he stepped up to the front door. "And we're going to give him the trick."

I considered this. "Cool."

Ding-dong went the doorbell.

A shadow at the window in the door, just a small, frosted rectangle, enough to show us someone was about to open the door, and we all took a step back.

And the door swung inward and Mr. McCabe was in the doorway.

Like we'd predicted, he wore nothing but the same baggy, ratty, loose-fitting sweat shorts he'd worn last year. His face was round and beginning to sag some, so was his chest and stomach. His hair looked like it'd been cut with a buzz saw.

"Trick or treat!" we said. All the other neighbors would promptly grab the bowl of candy (if they weren't holding it already) and we would get some candy and the check put into our bags!

Not this jerk. He put one hand on his hip and said, "I'll take the trick."

Last year, that had produced dumb looks and us muttering, him laughing and shutting the door. This year...

"Get him!" came Jack's call and the three of us rushed him!

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Straight Fiction: At the Hands of a Stranger

By: Miss Jane
 
 
 
Standing in front of the window, peering through the thin lace drapes, was just the beginning of fulfilling a long time fantasy of mine, something I was pushed, well dared to do by my husband, to make it a reality. I can see the passersby too busy with their own activities and thoughts to even notice me. Of course, being on the inside of the window and the other side of the thin lace drapes it is probably difficult for them to see anything inside. Taking a deep breath, I pull apart the edges of the drapes. Sliding them open only a couple of inches, I see my own partial reflection in the window.

Waiting a few minutes to see if anyone outside notices, I am relieved and at the same time a little disappointed that no one has. Reaching for the drapes, I open them a few more inches. Seeing more of my reflection in the window, I feel a shiver move over my body; my completely naked body. My nipples harden almost instantly. Giving each one a gentle squeeze, I don't wait as long to open the drapes wider. Moving closer to the outside world, I hear more of the muffled noises permeating through the window.

Still no one notices me. Swallowing hard, I close my eyes and grasp the drapes. I pause for a few seconds before yanking them open quickly, my heart beating fast, my pussy now extremely wet from anticipation. I am frozen in the moment, knowing I am naked in front of a window with complete strangers passing by me only a few yards away. Holding my breath, I slowly open my eyes and look outside. With daytime turning to dusk, the streetlights and reflection on the outside of the window probably make seeing me somewhat difficult.

Again, I feel an exhilarating chill sweep across my body. I suddenly feel the urge to pull the drapes closed, but since my husband will undoubtedly ask me about this, and has the uncanny ability to discern just from the sound of my voice if I am lying, I resist the urge and stand motionless. I look down at my hardened nipples, my hands quickly moving to them.

Stroking the soft underside of my large breasts, my fingertips tease the curvatures of my smooth skin. Staring outside, hoping to catch the eye of some passerby, I begin to gently knead my tits, squeezing them, pulling on my nipples. I give them a few hard pinches, feeling the familiar sensations of arousal moving through my body.

I notice a man dressed in a business suit slow down but not look in my direction. I keep my eyes on him, then, much to my delight, he turns around and slowly walks by again. Still, he does not look directly at me, but I do see his head angled slightly in my direction.

My heart starts to race. Has he seen me, or has he just remembered something that requires he go back in the direction from which he came? As I watch him disappear from sight, I moan quietly, a little frustrated. Startled by my phone ringing, I turn away from the window and answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hey Baby. What's going on?"

I smile at hearing the voice I've been waiting for. "Hey you, I was hoping you would call!"

"I told you I would. I hope you're doing what we discussed. Are you?"

I don't answer; instead I feel a wave of embarrassment and intense excitement sweep over my whole body.

"I will take your silence as a yes." I hear a chuckle over the phone, and can't help but giggle a little too.

"I wasn't expecting you to call while I'm doing this. But it's actually kind of exciting," I whisper.

"Has anyone seen you yet?"

"I think so. A man walked by then turned around and passed by again, but I am really not sure," I reply.

"Are you at the window now?"

"No, I had to step away to..." I stop talking, interrupted by my husband's voice.

"Well it's a cordless phone. Go to the window. Tell me when you're there again. I want to visualize it."

Taking a few seconds to get back to the window, there is a moment of silence, and then I reply, "Ok, I am here."

"Good. Lift one leg and rest it on a chair or a table near the window. Show off your beautiful pussy."

Doing as instructed, I lift one leg and rest my foot on the padded seat of the chair nearby. "Ok, I am."

"Good girl. Has anyone seen you? Do you notice anyone looking?"

"Um, I think so," I say quietly, looking intently at a man facing the window, but reading a newspaper. "I can't quite tell."

"Put the phone down on the window ledge, and turn it to speaker phone. I am going to tell you what I want you to do, and I want to hear what happens. From here on, you won't talk to me, you will only do what I tell you. Do you understand?"

"Uh, yes," I whisper, my voice a little shaky.

Hitting the speaker phone button, I lay the phone down on the window ledge. I glance out the window and see the man still facing my window, the newspaper held high, but not high enough to conceal his eyes. I listen closely as I hear a quiet voice.

"Take a hold of one of your hard nipples, and give it a nice firm pinch. Then, take your other hand and gently stroke your smooth pussy. Now look around outside, and if you see anyone watching, maintain eye contact, male or female, it doesn't matter, just keep looking at them."

I close my finger and thumb around my nipple and give it an almost painful pinch, twisting it, rolling it back and forth. I close my eyes and savor the intense surges of pleasure coursing through my body. I tilt my head back slightly and close my eyes for a few seconds as I move to my other nipple, repeating my actions. Slipping a couple of fingers between my smooth folds, I feel just how wet I am. I gasp at the incredible abundance of wetness awaiting me.

"I heard that! I bet your pussy is nice and wet already. I am getting so hard just picturing you touching yourself... and picturing you doing it in front of a window is just fucking hot! I hope that someone is watching, or will be soon."

"Yesss," is all I can moan in response, keeping my eyes on the man seemingly reading his newspaper. I take a chance he is watching, and give him a mischievous smile. To my delight, he smiles back at me and nods his head slightly. Looking down his impeccably well dressed body, I can barely make out the bulge in his trousers. I slowly lick my lips as I raise my eyes again to meet his stare.

"What's happening? Is someone watching you? Are you still touching yourself?"

"Uh huh... yes, someone is watching, and yes, I am still touching myself," I reply.

"Beckon them over to the window, unlatch it, and open it slightly. If they come over, invite them to touch you. You know that's what you want, what you've been craving! Do it! Do It!"

All Male Fiction: The Adventures of Pete & Jeff (Part 1)

"Collecting Debts"

By: Pete
 
 
 
It was 1980. I was eighteen and I had my own business mowing lawns. I had been mowing lawns for three years and had a trailer loaded with my mowing equipment, which I pulled behind my big green GMC van. I'm naturally thin, and mowing lawns kept me really lean, and I also had an awesome tan from working all day with my shirt off.

It was August in Michigan and hotter than hell, the humidity making you sweat even after stepping out of a cold shower. It was a Friday, around 6 pm, and I was hitting up my customers that owed me money so I'd have some cash to party with that night.

My best friend Jeff was with me, and we were smoking a joint as I cruised from house to house collecting ten bucks for each lawn I had mowed that week. We weren't wearing shirts, only our short ripped jean shorts and tennis shoes, which is what everyone wore in 1980. My old van didn't have any air conditioning and, despite the way we were dressed, we were still sweating even though the windows were down.

I'd always had the hots for Jeff, but never wanted to make a move on him because I didn't want to fuck up our friendship. He didn't seem too interested in girls, and he never dated during high school. I thought this was a little strange because he was a pretty hot guy, and, even though he talked about girls, he never really did anything about it, so that gave me hope that maybe he was "like me."

We were pretty buzzed from the pot when I pulled up in front of the house of one of my customers. This guy was pretty nelly and I was sure he was a fag. He lived alone and had two poodles, shaved with those pompom balls around their chest and feet… how fucking gay is that? He never made a move on me, but sometimes I would catch him watching me from the kitchen window as I mowed his lawn, sweat running down my body, soaking my tight shorts, grass clippings sticking to my chest.

After ringing the bell, he answered the door with a glass of white wine in his hand.

"Hey Mr. Sharley, you owe me for two weeks. That'll be twenty dollars."

"Hey Pete, no problem. Come on in while I find my wallet."

"I have a friend with me waiting in the van."

"Why don't you invite him in, too? It's awfully hot out there. Perhaps a nice chilled glass of wine would help to cool you both off a bit."

"Ummm, sure, why not." Jeff and I never turned downed a drink, especially alcoholic!

I turned and headed back to the van as my cock started to swell up, wondering if this guy was going to try anything with us. He wasn't sexy or anything, but just the thought of something happening with Jeff and this fag got my eighteen year old dick moving around in my tight shorts.

I walked up to the van window and told Jeff the guy was offering us a cold glass of wine inside. "The only thing is," I said, "I think this guy is a fag, so I don't know if he has any ideas on us or not."

"Fuckin' A man. No problem. A glass of wine sounds great!" Jeff replied.

I was glad Jeff didn't make a disgusted face or anything when I mentioned the guy was a homo, and I was pleased he just hopped out of the van without making any fuss about my fag comment.

We got inside and Mr. Sharley, who was probably only thirty, motioned us into the kitchen. We sat down on the vinyl coated kitchen chairs as he went into the fridge and pulled out a big jug of cold Gallo white wine. The vinyl felt cool against my hairy thighs on the chair seat.

Jeff sat with his legs spread open, one arm draped over the back of the chair and his other hand resting on his naked thigh, near his crotch, as Mr. Sharley poured us some wine in regular drinking glasses. Being eighteen and just a couple of guys, we downed the drink in one swallow and put the glasses back on the table. The drink felt cool as it went down my throat and into my belly.

"You guys should sip that. It's wine you know, not Kool-Aid."

"Oh, we're used to drinking wine, and we're thirsty because it's so fuckin' hot!" Jeff said.

Mr. Sharley was almost standing between Jeff's splayed legs as he poured us another drink, adding a little extra to the glass this time, and I'm sure I caught him glance at Jeff's crotch. This made my already chubby cock start to swell even more.

After smoking the pot in the van, and then downing the first shot of wine on an empty stomach, I felt really nicely buzzed. The proximity of Jeff in the small kitchen, the two of us only in tight ripped jean shorts, made my blood start pumping faster. Mr. Sharley didn't have air conditioning and it was hotter than hell in the kitchen, and I swear I could feel the heat coming off both of their bodies. I could feel the sweat trickling from my hairy armpits down my sides, wetting my shorts.

Mr. Sharley sat down across from us at the table and tipped his glass to us, "Cheers! Happy weekend!"

We took a good gulp of the wine, but didn't down it entirely this time.

"You guys doing anything fun tonight?"

"Yeah Mr. Sharley…"

"Call me Mike."

"Yeah, ok, Mike, just hanging out, you know, drink some beer, smoke some pot, maybe go to a drive-in movie later."

"You guys got pot?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, sure, good stuff. Maui Wowie!"

"Wow, I haven't smoked pot since college, it's been awhile," Mike said, kind of nostalgically.

"I have a joint," Jeff said. "You want to smoke some now?" As he said that I saw Jeff kind of scratch his balls and give himself a little squeeze, his chair pulled far enough away from the table, giving Mike a good view of his crotch.

I saw Mike check out Jeff's bulge again and his eyes got a little wider, then he said, "That would be great!"

Jeff stood up and reached into his shorts pocket for the joint, his shorts too tight to reach into the pocket while sitting. The horny fag couldn't take his eyes off Jeff's bulge, and I could swear Jeff's bulge was starting to get bigger.

Jeff pulled out his lighter, and, still standing, lit the joint, took a big heavy drag and then passed it to Mike. Mike took a big drag off the joint, coughed just a little, and then handed it to me. I took a big drag and then passed it back to Jeff.

Jeff sat back down again and he opened his legs even further as he took a toke of the joint. Then, as he passed it off to Mike again, he put both hands on his thighs, making a nice V look that directed your eyes directly to his crotch.

We finished our drinks on the second gulp and Jeff motioned to Mike to get us more.

When we finished off the joint, Mike said, "Wow! That stuff is good. I'm already fucked up!"

"Yeah, this is great stuff," Jeff said. "And it makes you hornier than fuck!"

I almost choked on my wine. I couldn't believe Jeff had said that, especially after I told him this guy was probably a fag.

"Yeah, pot always did make me horny," Mike said, checking out Jeff's package again.

I looked over at Jeff, and I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw him rub his bulge… not just like scratching his balls, but a real crotch grope and feel. Seeing this, as well as the look of cock lust in Mike's eyes, had my dick rock hard inside my tight shorts.

"You know, Mike," Jeff said, "My buddy Pete and I could use a few extra bucks for tonight, you know, so we can get a pizza or something at the drive-in."

I wasn't sure where Jeff was headed with this, but I thought my boner, which was hurting from the tightness of my jean shorts, was about to bust out as Jeff continued to nonchalantly rub his crotch.

Mike was staring directly at Jeff's bulge, and almost as if in a trance just uttered, "Uh-huh…"

"I can see you've been staring at my dick bulge since I got here," Jeff said, giving it another rub. "And if you want, maybe we can both whip out our dicks for you to see a little closer, say for… twenty bucks each?"

Thursday, October 10, 2013

All Male Fiction: The Ping-Pong Club

By: Unknown Author & Ryan Michaels
 
 
 
Peter was a college freshman, and while he never had a problem with the ladies, he always found it hard to make new friends with other guys. He didn't know anyone at college, that is, until Sean, a sophomore, had approached Peter and welcomed him to the college. Sean was really nice to Peter, offering to show him around campus, and soon the two became best friends.

When Sean asked Peter to join his Ping-Pong club, the college freshman was thrilled. Thrilled that Sean wanted him to be a part of a club that he belonged to, and also thrilled at the prospect of making some new friends. But, at the same time, he was a little surprised that he would ask him, of all people, to join such a club.


"Sean," Peter said, "we've never even played the game together. How do you even know I'd be any good?"


"Look," Sean said, "the club lost its fourth member and we need a replacement. Come on. You'll like Bobby and David. They're fun."


"But," Peter protested, "I don't play Ping-Pong."


"That's okay," his friend said. "It's not like it's a team or anything. We're just playing for fun. And anyway," Sean said in an enigmatic way, "sometimes losing is even better than winning."


"What does that mean?" Peter asked.


Sean winked. "You'll find out if you join the club."


So, Peter agreed.


The boys met for breakfast at the dining hall on Saturday and then left for the club's meeting, which was being held off-campus at Sean's friends' place. Because Bobby's parents were wealthy, he and David were able to afford a little one-story home with a small basement.


Peter and Sean drove to the house at the appointed time, and when the other boys let them in, introductions were made, and then the four adjourned to the lower floor. There was a couch, TV, a little bar, a small refrigerator, a portable CD player, a little bathroom off to one side and, in the center of the room, a large Ping-Pong table.


While Bobby and David went off to get a few beers, Sean whispered to his friend, "Whatever happens, you've got to promise not to object. Okay?"


"What the hell does that mean?"


"Never mind, just promise."


"Sean…"


"Hurry up, they're coming back. Do this for me, okay? Just promise, don't make me look bad in front of my friends."


"Okay, I promise. But what…"


At that moment, their hosts returned, passing out the beers.


The game started a few minutes later with Bobby and David teamed against Peter and Sean. Within minutes, Peter knew they were going to lose, and lose badly.


It didn't take long.


Volley after volley whizzed by Peter's shoulder as he frantically tried to lob them back, his face reddening in embarrassment and his armpits becoming soaked with nervous shame. David and Bobby, sensing immediately that Peter was the weak member of his team, aimed the ball at him without mercy, and their deliberate assault was as obvious to Peter as it was humiliating. Worse, Peter knew he was making an ass of himself in front of Sean, the one person in his life he most wanted to impress.


When the game was finished, Peter nervously apologized for his lousy playing. Sean, though, just grinned. He seemed strangely happy to have lost. While Peter was trying to figure out why, Bobby and David came over and stood in front of Sean and locked eyes with him.


Bobby spoke. "You ready?"


Sean nodded.


The other boys swiftly removed the net from the table, then returned and picked Sean up by the arms, pulling him over to the long side of the table. Sean lay flat, his legs spread wide, feet planted on the floor and his belly pressed to the tabletop as Peter stared in confusion. What the hell was going on?

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

All Male True Experience: Bus Station Pickup

By: Robert F.
 
 
 
It happened to me the first time in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I was a poor college student at the time, heading home for summer vacation after my freshman year. I had arrived at the bus station around midnight, and found it odd that everyone else who had gotten off the bus, about twenty people, either left right away, or soon left after being picked up by a friend or family member.

After sitting on a bench outside for a while, I headed inside to inquire as to when my bus would arrive. I headed over to the ticket booth, where the attendant sat, watching a small TV. After tapping on the window to get his attention, I found out that I should have gotten on a bus that left three hours earlier than the one I ended up taking, as there was not another bus leaving for my destination until 6am. Obviously everyone else on my bus was headed for Tulsa and nowhere further. With six hours to kill, and nowhere to go, I took a seat on one of the benches inside the station.


Besides me, and the attendant, the place was empty. After about fifteen minutes, someone came in through the doors. With nothing better to do, I took him in as he strode through the bus station. He was lean, muscular, and black, and he looked to be about my age or a little older. He would sit in one spot and then move to another spot, never sitting still for long. I figured he had missed his bus too and was just as bored as I was, and couldn't sit still.


This went on for about ten minutes, and the last time he got up he looked right at me and smiled. I figured it was just his way of acknowledging me, a way of saying hello, but then he walked down to the far end of the bus station, to the washroom door. When he got there, he turned and looked back at me, smiled again, and then went inside the washroom.


Well, I thought, he did seem intriguing and I had all that time to wait, and I was pretty bored, and a bit horny, too, after the long bus trip. So, I took a casual look over toward the attendant and saw that he was still engrossed in his TV program and wouldn't notice a thing, and then, slowly, I got up and walked over to the washroom.


I pushed on the door and entered to find the black guy standing at a urinal, and he didn't even bother to look over at me when I walked in the room. That made me a bit nervous; a look would have confirmed what was going on. For all I knew, I was getting into something vaguely dangerous. But, what the hell, I was feeling a little bold, I was in good shape, and I could handle myself.


I walked up to the urinal next to him (there were only two), and pulled my dick out. I was feeling bold, but not that bold, so rather than turning my head to get a peek at his dick, I tried to get a look at it from the corner of my eye. He was standing rather close to the urinal, but I could see a bit of dark skin, and I could see his arm moving slightly and knew he was stroking his dick.


I began to slowly stroke my dick, too.


"Nice dick," he suddenly said to me.


Despite reservations that he was setting me up for a beating for being a fag, I looked right at his and mumbled, "Thanks, yours too," and then looked straight ahead again.


"You like black dick?" he asked, and took a step back to reveal his hard cock to me.


I instinctively looked over and just nodded, although the truth was I had never been with a black guy before. In fact, I had only been with two guys before, period, and no women. I had been sucked off once in my life, and had sucked dick only twice before.


"You wanna suck it?" he asked, wagging his hard dick at me.


I couldn't make my mouth move and again just nodded.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

All Male Fiction: A New Found Glory

By: Jack S. & Ryan Michaels
 
 
 
My nerves were getting edgy as I waited. I'd been here a number of times before, so I knew the two booths this porn store provided for viewing were very active and, with luck, someone would show up at any moment to help me out. I was horny. I mean really horny! I knew I needed a good blowjob to feel better. The wait was aggravating, but anticipation kept me hard and leaking.

The glory hole I was sitting next to was very large, very easy to look through. Remembering the first blowjob I got here, my first blowjob ever, had kept me coming back for more. That first time, I'd barely had a chance to unzip my jeans and slide them down when the guy in the next booth began sliding his finger back and forth along the bottom of the glory hole, beckoning enticingly. The boldly printed words SHOW HARD FOR BLOWJOB above the hole, made his intentions clear. Instantly, I knew what he wanted me to do. Instantly, I became hard as rock.

"Let me suck it, kid," he had whispered hoarsely, his mouth right in the big hole. His lips were large and moist, well-formed and masculine. He looked like a very big guy. It intrigued me that he wanted to suck a cock. I allowed my erection to display itself.

"Oh! Man! What a cock! And it's uncut, too!" he sighed, loudly, excited by the sight of my erection. "I like 'em big and uncut, kid. C'mon, shove it through the hole! I'll take care of that for you! You'll see. You'll like it! C'mon! I want it! Let me suck it!"

With some hesitation, wanting to do it and yet not wanting to do it at the same time, I stood, turned, aimed my cock for the hole, and slowly poked it through. Before the knob was fully into the hole, it was in his eager mouth.

Incredible heat and moisture captured my cockhead in the soft tissues of his mouth and caused me to swell to aching stiffness. His tongue swirled knowingly through my ample foreskin while sucking pressures grew intense. I had not been able to imagine what a blowjob would actually feel like when guys had talked about them, but the sensations I was now experiencing as this expert cocksucker sucked and slowly sank my cock into his throat were mind-boggling.

Pushing to get every inch of it into the incredible heat and suction, I rose up onto the balls of my feet and thrust my hips forward. He hummed and reached out, encircling my big sac with a large fist. The touch lifted me to orgasm and, without thinking about whether or not he wanted me to ejaculate in his mouth, I blasted off into the most spectacular series of cum-spurts of my young life. It was so much better than all the jacking off I had done! At eighteen, I was at the peak of potency, so I filled him up as he swallowed spurt after wonderful spurt, taking every bit of it.

Now, a few weeks later, sitting on the cold metal chair in the booth, I realized that I had been comparing all the other blowjobs I'd been getting here to that first, really spectacular one. I guess that's normal when the first one is so good. The others were good, too, but I quickly discovered that talent and enthusiasm were not universal characteristics shared by every cocksucker, so I kept hoping I'd run into that first guy again, but, so far, no luck.

A noise interrupted my thoughts. Someone was opening the door to the other booth. I held my breath as I watched through the hole, and the sturdy frame of an athlete filled my field of vision. He was wearing only skimpy running shorts and a small cut-off tank-top which exposed his washboard midriff. Muscles flashed at me, making me feel flush.

Unembarrassed about being spied on, the guy slipped down his shorts and sort of strutted in place, showing off a real surprise package: his amazingly bulging jock pouch, which he displayed proudly, turning and preening, showing me every erotic angle. He then pushed down the jockstrap, too. His very large cock dangled over a giant set of balls. This guy was hung! He had to be at least nine and a half inches to my seven and a half! And he faced the glory hole exposing himself to me as I stared in awe.

I felt disappointment mixed with arousal. He was probably here to get a blowjob, I reasoned, just like me. A few times the guy in the next booth was there to get a blowjob, not to give one, and I had cleared out. And I was almost certain no macho athlete like this guy would suck cock. But, as he sat down, I was hoping he'd slide a finger along the rim of the glory hole, like the first guy had.

"How ya doin'?" he whispered in at me as he leaned down to look up at me through the large glory hole. "Man, that's some prime piece of meat you're playin' with there," he added, staring at my fist-wrapped cock.

I was struck by how handsome he was, as well as by his compliment, since his cock was so much bigger than my own. I grinned, not knowing what to say.

He grinned back. "Want some?" he whispered excitedly.

I nodded, thinking it was an invitation for me to stand and deliver.

But before I could move, he stood. His cock looked completely erect already and, aiming it with a single finger, he slid it through the hole, letting it go as it came through to my side and sprang to rigid attention.

It stood there, vibrating lustily, pointing up at the ceiling. It was inches from my face. It looked magnificent! It looked as good as my own… better! It throbbed in the soft lighting and looked perfect. The head was extremely fat and puffy, with huge contoured flanges. And his big balls were up so tight against the wide base of the big weapon that I knew, instinctively, from my own experience, he had not had an orgasm in a while. He was ready. His cock was ready!

"Suck it!" he demanded huskily.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

All Male Fiction: My Best Friend (Part 1)

By: Lucas Miller
 
 
 
I had known Josh since we were in grade school. We were the best of friends and inseparable at that time. When I was twelve he moved to Virginia and we would only see each other once a year after that. We continued to be great friends, writing to each other and calling when we were allowed, and more recently, e-mailing each other.

When we did visit one another, I was struck by the physical changes that took place as the years went by. I remembered that he was a thin kid at twelve. He had dark hair, green eyes, and olive skin. He was always active and popular with everyone that crossed his path. Now, nearly seven years later, he was still thin, but not gangly. I could tell that he was involved in athletics, as he appeared to have no body fat and nicely formed muscles on his arms.


I hadn't seen Josh at this point for about a year and a half. I had asked him to come to my graduation party, but he had gone to California with his parents for his own graduation present. We had tried to get together since, but with college starting, it was more difficult. When I learned that I would have an early spring break, I called him and suggested I hang out with him at his college during that week. He agreed and the arrangements were made.


I arrived late in the evening and Josh met me outside his dorm. We hugged each other and headed up to his room. We weren't alone; his roommate, Marc, was sitting at his desk reading.


Josh introduced us. "This is my roommate Marc, and Marc, this is my best friend Adam."

"Nice to meet you," Marc smiled broadly as he shook my hand.


"You, too," I replied.


"I've got big plans for tonight," Josh said to me. "There's this huge party right off campus. There are tons of people I want you to meet."


"Sounds good to me." I looked around the room for a place to set my stuff.


"Oh, bad news. You're gonna have to sleep on the floor. You can use my sleeping bag if you want."


"No problem."


"You can use my bed," Marc said.


"No, the floor is fine." Marc was smiling again and I couldn't help but smile back at him.


"Well, we should get ready for the party," Josh suggested as he started gathering his bathroom stuff. "Do you need a shower?"


"Probably a good idea. It's been a long trip."


"And you smell like hell, too." Josh slapped me on the back and laughed. "Let's get that foul smell off of you."


I got a change of clothes and followed him to the community showers. I'm not sure what got me going, but I couldn't keep my eyes off of Josh. He removed his shirt, revealing a hairless stomach and chest. He appeared to be working out. He was trim and well-defined. I felt nervous for some reason, and thoughts of seeing him naked excited me. He removed his jeans, standing only in his boxers and socks.


"You planning on taking a shower in your clothes?" Josh laughed.


That shook me out of my daze, but my dick was starting to get hard. "I guess I'm just a little tired."


He laughed. "Whatever you say." With that he pulled his boxers off and quickly turned away. I only got a glimpse of his cock. It seemed to be about four inches limp, and his balls hung low.


I undressed and wrapped a towel around my waist to hide my semi-erect prick. What was happening? This was my best friend. He wasn't gay… and I wasn't gay. Was I?


I stayed in the shower until my semi-erection had subsided. Thankfully, there were individual stalls and I could hide behind the curtain.


When I was done I dried off in the shower stall and wrapped the towel around my waist just in case I had a sudden pop-up. Josh was already out of the shower and sitting completely naked on one of the benches. On one hand I admired the way he just sat there without shame, while on the other I wished he would get dressed so that I wouldn't be distracted.

I groaned as my cock reacted to my friend sitting with his legs spread apart giving me a clear view of his cock and balls. It looked bigger than I had thought earlier.

My clothes were beside him, so there wasn't any way to avoid him. I turned away from him so that my back was to him, but if someone were to pass by they would definitely see my growing dick.


Wouldn't you know it… someone did. Marc passed by us wearing only a towel. He smiled at me, glanced down at my cock, then at Josh. His smile got a little bigger.

Josh suddenly spoke. "Take a look at this." I turned my head. He pointed to his toe where blood was trickling onto to the floor.


"What happened?" I turned completely around forgetting my half hard-on.


"I don't know. I guess I cut it on something."


"Well, it's really bleeding." I squatted down and put my towel on the bleeding toe to apply pressure. "Does it hurt?" I looked up at him realizing I was almost eye-level to his cock. I swallowed hard. I thought I saw it move slightly.


"Not really," he replied. His eyes dropped briefly from my eyes to my crotch and I felt nervous again. He then lifted his foot and lightly caressed my balls.


I gasped and my cock twitched.

"Sorry, buddy." He lowered his foot again.

I couldn't answer. I glanced at his cock and it was semi-erect now. Maybe he was feeling what I was feeling. I thought I would test it.

I put one hand on his knee while I continued to apply pressure to his toe. "How does that feel?" I asked while spreading my fingers to stretch out against his thigh.


"Good." He looked around. Except for Marc, who was in the showers, we were alone. He raised his good foot again and kept it at my balls. He slowly moved it under them, touching them gently.


My cock was now completely hard.

"Boy have you grown," he smiled. He took his foot and ran it over my cock. I thought I was going to explode.

My hand moved closer to his cock and he too was hard. I found his balls and held them in my hand. I moaned and increased the motion of his foot on my dick.


"We have to hurry," he said. "Marc will be right back."

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

All Male True Experience: Teenage Explorations

By: Unknown Author
 
 
 
Russell was the first boy I poked. That's what we called it between ourselves. We lived on an island that really wasn't an island any longer, though it had been at one time, before they built a causeway to it.

On Oak Island there were only three of us who caught the school bus, Russell, a girl named Pat, and myself. Russell had gotten a hard-on one morning at the bus stop and asked me to shield him from Pat. So I stood in front of him with my back to her and stared at his erection.

That same afternoon, as the three of us left the bus, I told Russell I needed to piss really badly. His house was the first one we passed, so he and I went in and left Pat to find her own way home. His folks were still at work, as I knew very well.


"That was some boner you threw this morning," I shouted as I stood at the toilet gushing out the pee I'd been saving up all day.


The bathroom door was open, and I heard Russell grunt from his room across the hall. Turning around, I looked through the adjacent door. Russell was in the process of changing from his school clothes to a pair of shorts, and was then in only his white briefs. He really had a good-looking ass on him.

By the time I'd finished pissing, my cock was on a semi and I stroked it good to keep it that way. I brazenly turned around with my cock in my fist and pretended to be trying to stuff it back in my pants.


"Shit!" I growled, and Russell turned around. "Can't get this fucker back in."


I watched his eyes intently. He sure stared at my cock. I gazed pointedly at his crotch, and was rewarded to see the pouch of his underwear swelling with meat. Without saying a word, I walked into his room with my cock sticking out.