All Male Fiction: The Lifeguard

By: agtcuk

 

 

 

What really fascinated me about the lifeguard was his small dick. Not that I'd seen it, at least not then, but every afternoon I went to the pool, and I did my lengths while carefully scrutinizing him. Why? Because he was gorgeous, about 6' tall, broad-shouldered, with a swimmer's build, lean and almost hairless, with short, spiky black hair and a cute broad nose. I couldn't take my eyes off him. In my life I haven't always been as dutiful as I should be about keeping up with exercise, but while he was a lifeguard at the pool I never missed a single day.

Now, most pools make their lifeguards wear swim trunks, which spoils a lot of the fun. After ogling someone in trunks for a while you kind of lose interest, because of course, you want to get a sense of their dick and balls like everything else. My pool was no exception, and I'd noticed this guy in his blue swim trunks, thought he was cute, and then thought no more about it.

But I found out one day when I changed my schedule and started going for my daily swim in the morning instead, that every morning they had classes in a sectioned-off part of the pool, and for that, I was happy to find, they stripped off their shorts, revealing the skimpy Speedos they wore beneath.

The first time I saw my lifeguard in his Speedo I was immediately fascinated by the size of what was on display. Most of the other lifeguards had the usual average bulge, dick poking out to the side, or resting on top of their balls, but this guy was different.

In contrast to his big build and tall frame, the bulge in his Speedos was tiny. Oh, ordinary size balls, but above them was just a bump; the kind of protrusion that a lot of guys show once they've been in the water for a while, only this guy had it dry. It looked kind of incongruous given the guy's actual size, and I found I couldn't keep my eyes off it as I did my lengths up and down the pool.

And the weird thing was, he was totally unselfconscious about it. Actually, this is pretty typical for swimmers I've discovered: they spend so much time near naked that, like dancers or models, they become kind of indifferent to their own bodies.

This guy stood chatting to male and female lifeguards, little dick barely making a show in those black Speedos, not bothered about it at all. I'm sure they must have noticed there was nothing much inside those Speedos because even straight guys always check that kind of thing out.

He noticed me looking, though. I think he realized early on that I was checking him out with more interest than anyone else, and I could tell he was a little flattered and also a little embarrassed. I let him get a look at me as I got out of the pool. I have a good-sized dick and big balls that make a pretty good-sized bulge in my blue Speedos, and I could tell he liked what he saw.

Actually, he liked it enough to get a hard-on a couple of times. He would see me watching him as I swam, and he'd look away, flushed, and I'd noticed that little bulge starting to poke out some. At that point, he would always find some excuse to jump into the pool and cover his embarrassment, but not before I'd got a glimpse of the start of his erection. It didn't seem a whole lot longer than his dick was when it was limp but seemed to thicken up a bit in the few seconds I got to see it before he jumped in.

Anyway, this went on for a couple of weeks, until one day I was in a changing cubicle when there was a knock on the wall. I jumped, and the knock came again. Examining the wall, I saw that a small hole had been drilled through it and I bent to look through this, as the knock came once again.

All Male True Experience: Peepshow Poke

By: travelinjim

 

 

 

My business requires that I travel extensively, and as a result I often resort to adult bookstores for getting my rocks off. I just don't have the time to go out looking for someone to pick up, and bathhouses, if the place I am in has any, are too much of a hassle, and an expense.

Renting adult movies in the hotel room is out of the question, too. I am on an expense account and would be required to reimburse the company for the charges. Reimbursing them wasn't the issue. The issue would be my employer and the lady who does the books seeing that I rented gay porn. I was not out at work, but I wouldn't even want them to know that I rented porn, period, even straight porn. A person's employer and coworkers do not need to know those things.

The problem with adult bookstores, though, is that nowadays it is damn near impossible to find one that has glory holes between the booths. There seems to have been some sort of a crackdown and they have all been either boarded up or the plywood wall between the booths has had a new sheet of plywood put over it.

Still, it is a lot more fun to jerk off to porn in a place like that. It's kind of like you are doing it at home (or your hotel room) in the sense that you are all alone and no one can see you behind closed doors, with the difference being that you are actually in a public place, where you know everyone else there, including the employees, know what you are doing. It just adds to the excitement of it for me. And, if I am left with no choice but to masturbate, why not make it as exciting as possible, right?

My most recent visit to an adult bookstore took place a few weeks ago during a business trip to a small town in the Midwest. Being such a small town I figured it unlikely that there would be an adult bookstore, but once in my hotel room I grabbed the yellow pages to check anyway. I was quite shocked, although happily, to find a listing for one.

Of course, never having been in that town before I had no idea based on the address where it was, or even if it was in the actual town. So I called and asked where they were located. The guy just told me the address, which I already knew. So I explained that I wasn't familiar with the area and told him what hotel I was staying at and asked if the store was anywhere close to where I was.

I couldn't believe it when the guy not only told me that the store was in town, but was only a few miles from where I was staying. He gave me directions, which I wrote down for future reference. Getting off a load would have to wait as, even though I had just arrived, I had to get to a meeting right away.

When I returned to my hotel room from that meeting, which had been grueling, I decided that it was time for some fun… not that I needed an excuse anyway. I grabbed the directions and headed out of the room to my car.

All Male Fiction: Bob and the Day After (Part 3)

By: amtibbs

 

 

 

Read Part 2

 

The next day, Bob couldn't keep his mind on his job, his mind still going back to the night before, and it was almost time for the lacrosse team practice and there were still things to do to prepare the locker room. Though not really part of his job description, Bob helped the team manager and his assistants lay out the gear each player would need for the practice that day. Piles of shirts, shorts, socks and jockstraps had to be distributed to each player's locker so when they arrived they could immediately get changed and visit the trainer if necessary. There was a list that mapped locker to player and player to size, but this late into the season Bob had it committed to memory.

That day, Bob was pushing the cart filled with jockstraps and cups. As he reached each locker he'd grab the proper size jock, insert a sanitized cup and lay it neatly folded in the locker.

As his mind wandered, he recalled that one of the first things he learned working in the locker room was that the colored stripes on a jockstrap waistband indicated its size. "Shit!" he thought. "I can't remember anything from my classes this morning. Why did I think about that?"

Bob still had ten lockers to go when the first of the lacrosse players arrived. He wondered what was wrong with him; why was it taking him so long. None of the staff liked to be seen handling the guys' jocks and the razzing that came with it. Other staff had received comments like "Bet you'd rather be handing that jock with me in it" while the player grabbed their pouch and "Hey, mine has a hole in the back!" as they bent over and spread their ass cheeks. Bob had never gotten caught doing this part of the job and he waited for the comments to fly.

He hurriedly finished the job not looking around to see who might be watching. As he headed back with the cart, he finally glanced up and noticed a couple of the players standing together watching him but he got no ribbing.

After returning the cart, Bob made a straight line back to his office. He had almost gotten there when a hand grabbed his shoulder. He stopped quickly and spun around to find Nick standing there with concern on his face. He quietly asked Bob if everything was alright. A number of answers ran through Bob's mind. He decided that "Hell no and it's all your fault!" was not the appropriate answer and just replied that he was feeling confused but okay. Nick asked to meet him later to explain. Bob mumbled a reply before turning and walking on.

Straight Fiction: New Approaches (Part 1)

By: tonebone

Jenna and I had been together for a couple of years and to be honest, our sex life had become predictable and relatively dull. I longed for the days where we fucked like rabbits several nights a week.

I knew that Jenna had been fairly wild in her youth, having admitted to me she had cheated on prior lovers on more than one occasion. When I had inquired as to why, her answer had always been vague, but she had hinted that she had become bored in her relationships.

I often worried she might become bored with me and cheat, but she had reassured me those indiscretions had been abandoned alongside of her reckless days.

I spent long hours trying to figure out how I might reignite our sex life, even going so far as to discuss it with one of my best friends. "Relationships are bound to get boring," he said. "It's just the way it goes."

"Yeah, but there must be some way to re-inspire them," I said.

"Short of opening it up or trying new things, I don't see how."

"New things? What sort of new things?"

"You know, swinging, orgies, that kind of stuff."

"Yeah right."

"Hey, you asked," he deadpanned.

I had never thought about swinging or orgies, but when I did an Internet search I was alarmed by how common the practice was. I even came across a site on fetishes and was surprised by some of the things that got people off: bondage, watersports, cbt, rape scenes, strap-ons, even cuckolding.

As I read about these things I was shocked. I then came across a site called BateBook with erotic stories about such happenings. I started to read a couple, but those types of scenes just weren't for me, so I closed the site and left.

Over the next few days, though, I found myself thinking about certain things I had read. In particular, those stories involving group sex and voyeurism. I couldn't understand how people could find this a turn on. But, eventually, I found myself back on the BateBook site reading more of the stories. I was even more surprised when I found myself erect as I read about men watching other men fuck their girlfriends or wives.

The more I thought about these things the more I found they turned me on. I started thinking about them while I was fucking Jenna and it always led to more passionate sex.

One night after we had fucked for over an hour, Jenna asked me, "What's gotten into you? I mean, you've really been a tiger in bed lately."

I felt embarrassed and didn't know what to say. I had never been dishonest with Jenna and I wasn't about to start now, so I remained silent.

"What is it?" she asked with a lascivious look in her eyes. "Tell me."

"It would probably freak you out if I told you."

"Are you fantasizing about fucking someone else?"

"No, that isn't it."

"It's not?" She squinted her eyes at me. "Then why don't you tell me what it really is?"

"I've just been reading some kinky stories on the Internet," I admitted.

Jenna sat up, suddenly interested. "What sort of kinky stories?"

I blushed. "You really want to know?"

She smiled. "Yeah, I do."

I looked away and whispered, "Group sex and stuff like that."

"Group sex?" She giggled. "I didn't know you got off on that kind of stuff."

"I didn't either. I've never even really thought about it, but after reading some of the stories I have to admit, it seems pretty wild."

Jenna lay back down beside me and just said, "Wow," and that was the last we talked about it.

**********

A few days later I came home to find Jenna sitting on the couch with a magazine between her hands. She glanced up at me with a devilish grin. I squinted to see what she was reading and was somewhat surprised to see she had a magazine that pictured a nude woman on the cover.

"These are nasty letters," she said. "I found a couple of letters I think you might like. Sit down and let me read you one."

I sat down beside her and she began almost immediately. The story was about a man and a woman picking up a third woman. I had read a few of these stories, but they weren't the ones that had been haunting me. She paused when the story came to the two women making out while the man pumped the new woman from behind.

She looked at me curiously. "This isn't the kind of story you were thinking of?"

"Not exactly," I blushed. "But it's okay," I shrugged. "Go ahead and read." Even so, I was getting turned on.

"Hmm, well, there is another one I liked better, but it involves two men." She watched me squirm. "Would you like me to read it?"

I looked at her, nodded and whispered, "Yes, read me that one."

She seemed pleasantly surprised as she flipped a few pages and said, "Oh here. Here it is." She began reading. The story was about a man and a woman discussing his sharing her with another man. The woman was reluctant, but through some minor sexual manipulation the woman finally succumbed and agreed to have sex with him and his friend. By the end of the story the woman was taking it doggie style while the friend was fucking her face. The man, who was telling the story, was perversely turned on when she swallowed his friend's load.

Jenna paused and noticed how intently I was listening. She looked pleasantly bemused. "You're really turned on by this?"

I nodded. "I don't know why, but it seems pretty sexy; the idea of sharing you with another man."

"So you think about doing this with me?" she asked.

I nodded.

"You wouldn't be jealous?"

"Totally, but I think that's part of the turn on."

"How long have you been thinking about this?"

"Only just recently, after I saw those stories on the Internet. I never would have thought that kind of thing would turn me on, but when I found that site it just kind of crept up on me." I reached out. "Let me see that magazine."

All Male Fiction: Angry Bull

By: Unknown Author

 

 

 

Bull stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door. Max sat up in surprise, pulling the sheet up to cover his naked body. "Don't be a pussy," Bull said. "Your boyfriend has been fucking my boyfriend, did you know that?" he asked as he undid his belt and eased down his jeans, and then pulled his t-shirt over his head.

"No," Max said in surprise. His heart was beating quickly, and he couldn't keep his eyes off the bulge in Bull's tight, white briefs. He had heard that Bull's nickname came from the way he was hung, but he had never had the chance to ascertain that for himself.

"Well, it's true," Bull said. "And I figure the only way to get even is for us to fuck. And I'm going to give you the best fuck you've ever gotten in your life! We're going to make them both pay."

Max's emotions were whirling. First he was told that his boyfriend had been cheating on him, and the next thing he knew, here was Bull walking over to him, rubbing his hardening dick through the soft cotton of his briefs, and saying he wanted to fuck him. His dick was standing stiff under the sheet, the sensitive head rubbing against the weave. He tossed aside the sheet to reveal his hard-on.

Bull grinned at him. "Oh yeah, that's what I like to see. Now get over here and suck my cock!" He stood at the edge of the bed as he pulled down his briefs.

All Male True Experience: Of (Golf) Balls and Asses

By: JohnnyX

 

 

 

Last summer, when I was nineteen, my parents had decided to take a summer trip around Europe, and I was not invited. Even though I was nineteen, my parents let me know that they were not comfortable letting me spend the whole summer living alone - undoubtedly visions of wild teenage parties going through their heads - and that they had arranged for me to stay with my aunt, a widow who lived in a Southern California retirement community built literally around a golf course.

My dad went on to inform me that he had arranged for me to become one of a small army of caddies at The Golf Club, as it was known, as a way to keep me out of trouble and earn myself spending money. The idea of spending the summer with a bunch of elderly people didn't really thrill me, but I didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

It began as a pretty dull summer, and I spent most nights at the small cinema in the community center; ironically, it was having a Rock Hudson retrospective. Even the few guys in their forties in the community seemed old to me. In my second month, though, this young hunk showed up, a blond with a gleaming smile, not much older than myself. He seemed nice, and he sure caught looks of envy, or dislike, from the older men. He always had the same caddy, a thirtyish Cuban.

About a week later, I was pruning in my aunt's backyard when I heard a voice say, "Hi, stranger!"

I looked up. It was him.

"I've seen you at The Golf Club," he said mock-reverently. We laughed. "One guy tells me you never flinch when you have to ask members afterward, 'Do you want me to wash your balls, sir?'"

"Members are apt to say anything," I replied.

"Members," he laughed.

I got the joke after a few seconds.

It turned out he was brand-new at male modeling, was visiting and staying next door for a month with his grandparents, and was named Derek.

"Call me John," I said.

"I wish I could call you caddy," he smiled.

Days later, I was his caddy, and thenceforth I got dirty looks from the Cuban.

Derek was pretty good at golf, but after a month in a community of golf fanatics the sport no longer fascinated me as a topic of conversation. But Derek fascinated me.

Our second morning on the links, by a secluded gardener's shed near a pond, he asked me, without grinning, "Do you want to wash my balls?"

I could tell by the way he said it and by the way that he was looking at me that he wasn't talking about his golf balls, nor was he making a joke. So, I took a deep breath and went for it. "Which balls?" I grinned.

That was all it took for him to confirm that we were both on the same wavelength. He smiled in response to my comment, motioned his head and led me behind the shed on the water side. He leaned against the building and deftly unzipped, hauling out his half-hard cock and a pair of balls wreathed with dark golden hair.