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

Saturday, January 17, 2015

All Male Fiction: My Best Friend (Part 5)

By: Lucas Miller




The bus trip back to my campus was long and uneventful. I tried to sleep, but my mind raced with images of Josh, Marc, and the others that I had met while visiting my best friend at his school.

But now I was on a bus heading back towards my old life, the time before I discovered the joy of being close to someone in every aspect of being. How could I return to the way that I used to live? How could I interact with the same people as before without letting them in on what I had experienced? Or should I just tell them?

Telling them would probably be a mistake. I didn't know them very well. Sure we hung out together and joked around, but they knew little about my past and I took little interest in their lives outside of school. It would be best to keep quiet for now.

As I got closer to my school, the longing for human touch became more intense. I wanted Josh's hand on my chest. I wanted him to gently kiss me while his hands moved over my body. And I would let him do whatever he wanted.

I could not think of one person who could fill that void. My roommate, Russell, didn't seem to fit. He was a bit of a geek. He hardly ever left the room. He was either studying or playing video games. I don't even remember seeing him without his shirt. In fact, he always went to the showers very early in the morning or late at night when it was empty. He would go fully dressed and come back fully dressed. How odd. I wonder if he has some massive birthmark that he doesn't want someone to know about.

Russell and I rarely spoke. I knew that he was from Virginia and had an older brother who graduated a year ago from the same college, and that his parents were divorced. Russell never spoke of current or previous friends, and shared close to nothing about what he enjoyed doing (reading and playing video games).

When I arrived at the dorm, it was a little after ten at night. I was tired after the long trip and just wanted to just get into bed and start fresh the next day. Fortunately, Russell had had the same idea. He was already in bed when I opened up the door. He lifted his head slightly and grunted a "hello."

I tossed my stuff on the floor by my bed, undressed to my boxers and got into bed. I couldn't fall asleep, though. I laid awake for over an hour. Russell was quiet in his bed. He had the covers pulled tightly up to his neck. I again wondered what he was hiding under his sheets and clothing.

Around midnight, Russell suddenly moved about in his bed. I could see that he was facing me and appeared to be looking directly at me. I pretended like I was asleep, and shortly after he got up and went to his desk. I heard him take a couple of tissues out of the box on the desk and return to bed.

I slowly opened my eyes. With the covers pulled back up to his chest, he turned away from me. I heard the rustling of clothing and a waistband snap softly. Was he going to jerk off? Good 'ole Russell actually had a libido!

He was very quiet about it, but I knew he was jerking off. The covers moved with a quiet swish as his right arm and hand went to work at bringing himself off. I don't think I had ever been as quiet as that.

About ten minutes after he had started, Russell's breath began to get heavier. His arm was moving more quickly now, and beneath the sheets his body was becoming more rigid. He was definitely very close now.

Despite the fact that I couldn't see anything except an occasional silhouette, I was also getting very aroused. Without realizing it, my hand had slipped inside my boxers and I was running my fingers over my hard cock. I didn't know what was making me more excited: the idea that my roommate was masturbating only a few feet from me or that Russell was exposing flesh that he never showed in the daylight.

There was a low grunt from Russell's bed, followed by another less obvious one. His arm had slowed down considerably and his body appeared more relaxed. Then he pulled his clothes back on and he got up again. I heard him drop the tissues in the trash and get back into bed.

My hand never left my cock. It was still very hard and it would not permit to just leave it that way. I started stroking it, trying to be as quiet as Russell was. I kept looking over at his bed. He didn't seem to be facing me.

Although I considered giving him a show, I decided I didn't want to embarrass him. He obviously thought I was asleep, so my strokes were short and concentrated around the head of my cock for the most pleasure.

But my mind drifted. I thought of Josh and his hands on my cock. I pictured him moving down in the bed and stroking my hard cock as he ran his fingers over my balls. He was naked and I was naked. Marc was sitting by the bed undressing. He got down to his underwear, and I saw that they were my boxers. In my mind, he kept them on as he rubbed his cock through the cloth.

Josh was becoming more forceful with my cock and balls. He had a tighter grip on my shaft and was pulling at my nuts. Sweat was running down my face and chest. I was getting close. I wanted Josh to put his mouth on my cock, and I wanted to taste Marc's sweet prick.

But the fantasy was interrupted. Russell turned his lamp on and was looking at me sternly. "What the hell are you doing?"

Thursday, January 15, 2015

All Male True Experience: My First Gay Blowjob

By: alex77019



Many years ago, when I was a senior in college, as I was crossing the campus I needed to use the men's room, so I entered a campus building and looked for the washroom. I found it, down in the basement.

I chose the first stall, and as I entered, the walls were all covered with graffiti, the usual stuff that guys write on walls. When I took a seat, I turned my head to the other wall to read some of it and noticed there was a hole in the wooden divider between my stall and the next one. The hole was pretty big, and before I even had time to start doing what I went in there to do, another guy entered the stall next to mine.

After a few moments, I could hear a noise coming from his stall. It was quiet, rhythmic, and somewhat familiar sounding. Leaning forward, I found myself peeking through the hole in the wall, and there, in my full view, was another young college guy sitting on the can, leaning back, and stroking his semi-erect dick.

At first I moved my face away. I had never had any thoughts or desires towards other men. I was only into girls, and thought how fucked up it was that I had looked. Despite this, moments later, I found myself looking again. They guy's cock was rock hard now. I had never seen another man's cock before, except in straight porn, and I found myself almost mesmerized by the sight of it. I told myself that is why I couldn't stop looking, it was simply a matter of seeing something I had never seen before, sheer curiosity.

Then something else fucked up happened… my cock started to get hard! I couldn't believe it! Why had I sprung a rod from seeing another guy's hard dick? I wasn't queer, I knew that. What the fuck was going on? I wanted to pull up my pants and get the hell out of there, but my body didn't move. It was like I was frozen in place. And then, while still looking through the hole, I realized I had unconsciously started to stroke my own cock now, too!

Suddenly, the guy straightened up, leaned forward on the toilet and looked at the hole. I quickly pulled my head back, but I was pretty sure he saw that I had been watching him. Standing up, I reached down for my underwear, and the next thing I knew, the guy stuck his finger through the hole. I had no idea why, but he fingered the hole a couple of times and then he leaned his face near the hole and told me to shove my cock through it.

Sunday, January 11, 2015

All Male Fiction: On the Mat

By: Unknown Author & Ryan Michaels


It was a grueling practice. The coach had worked us hard, trying to get us ready for the meet that was coming up against our rival school. Their wrestling team always beat us, but this year Coach was determined that we would win. So he was always on our butts, pushing us harder and harder, regularly keeping one of us after practice for extra coaching. A lot of guys on the team would grumble in the locker room about how hard the coach would work us during practice, but not me. I enjoyed the hard, sweaty workouts with the team. It gave us some team spirit, not to mention a common "enemy" - Coach Meyer.

One thing you gotta say for Coach, he knew his business. He was the top in his weight class in college, and here he was, not two years later, coaching our team. He kept himself in great shape, too, always working out in the weight room, keeping his body hard and tight, never deviating much from his 177lb wrestling weight. Broad, muscular shoulders, defined pecs, narrow waist and hips - a great body for a wrestler.

We were in the same weight class, and my body was pretty good, too. I worked out for it, trying to keep up with Coach, and did pretty well, too. I was just a bit smaller in the shoulders, but otherwise we were pretty evenly matched, body wise.

Not to say that any of us on the team were slackers. We all kept up as best we could with Coach. Kind of a pride thing. First thing we did before practice was meet in the weight room for a workout. Coach was always in there before us, and worked with us almost like a personal trainer, pushing us to go harder. Then we'd go into the wrestling room, pairing up and testing each other, trying new holds, sweating up a storm.

This day, all the guys were exhausted after practice. We all hit the showers, but there was none of the usual horsing around. We all just wanted to get out of the gym to nurse our sore muscles.

And most of us did. I wasn't so lucky. I was one of the last in the showers, and so was one of the last to be in the locker room, drying off, when Coach walked in.

"Tim," he said, "I'm not happy with your workout today. You weren't taking care of business out there. Get back into your singlet. We've got some work to do."

"Ok, Coach," I said. But it wasn't ok. I had just showered, and now had to get back into my sweaty uniform, not to mention my only jock, which was also damp with sweat, only to have to shower again later. But Coach seemed pretty insistent, and I was the only one left who had yet to go through some additional one-on-one coaching after practice, so I didn't really have much of a choice.

When I came out of the locker room, I found Coach standing on the mat, waiting for me, his hands on his hips, still in his singlet.

"You ready?" he asked.

"As I'll ever be," I answered. "What was I doing wrong?"

"You weren't pushing for the pin like I told you. The only way you're gonna win at wrestling is to go for the pin, all else be damned."

"Yeah, but Coach..."

"No buts, Tim. Let me show you how to do it."

He hunkered down in wrestling position, ready to lock up with me. I did the same. We approached each other, got our hands on each other's shoulders, he slipped his hand behind my neck, and we started to circle each other. He shot his hand out, catching me behind my knee, and pulled up, toppling me back. He landed on top of me, swung around, catching me in a deep crotch hold, trying to cradle me up into a fast pin. But I managed to bridge back, preventing him from getting my shoulders down. As I did this, I felt his hand slip through my legs, until it rested on the pouch of my singlet. I thought I felt his hand give it a slight squeeze, but I was sure I was mistaken.

I got my arm around his neck, slipped my arm through his legs, and rolled him over on his back. Now I was close to pinning him, but he rolled through, and away from me. He stood up, ready to lock up again.

This time, I managed to get my arms around his chest in a bear hug, lifting him off the mat, and slamming him down, with me on top. He wrapped his legs around me in a body scissors and held me there. We were chest to chest, crotch to crotch. I grabbed his wrists to pin them over his head, when he broke his scissors, and bridged up. I was on top of him, feeling the pressure of my dick pushing down on his, and noticed that he had thrown a rod. The feeling of his dick against mine caused a reaction in my own crotch, and I started to get boned up, too.

We wrestled like that for about fifteen minutes. I could partially see some of his cock outlined as it stretched the material of his singlet. My full-on hard-on was even more obvious in my singlet, but that didn't stop us. Guys always get hard-ons when they wrestle, it's natural.

Finally we broke off for a short rest. We were both soaked with sweat and panting from the exertion. We both lay on our backs, trying to get some air into our lungs, when Coach turned to me. "Not bad, Tim," he said. "I knew if I pushed you, you'd do ok."

"Thanks, Coach. You do pretty well yourself."

He laughed, and punched me in the arm. I did the same to him. He hit me again. Pretty soon, we were rolling around with each other, play-wrestling. He landed on top of me, getting me in a tight bear hug, trying to pin me down. Suddenly we both stopped, realizing that our crotches were mashed together. Coach rolled off me and stood up.

"This singlet is too wet to wrestle in," Coach said and then began to peel himself out of it. "Yours is soaked with sweat, too. Strip it off, Tim," Coach Meyer said as he tossed his singlet to the floor and stood looking down at me, hands on hips, in just his jockstrap.

Monday, January 5, 2015

All Male Fiction: Chris' Sex Adventures (Part 5)

"The Uninvited Guest"
By: samboi91 & Ryan Michaels




Laughter filled the now brightly lit hallway. "Nice pants!"
 
I turned around to meet my brother's gaze. "Uh, yeah, I sat in something over at Brad's."

Jeff laughed again. "Yeah, more like sat on something!"

"Oh come on, you know Brad has a girlfriend," I said, remembering the promise I had made to Brad.

"Yeah, so? I've had a few of those myself, but that still didn't stop me from fucking your ass."

"Look, Brad and I are just buddies."

"Yeah, butt-buddies," Jeff laughed. "Come on, I saw the back of your pants, can smell them too. I know what that big wet stain is. I know it's not your load back there, and you were with Brad all day, so who else could it be besides him?"

"Ok, ok. Brad fucked me." I noticed Jeff's cock beginning to slither down the left side of his jeans as I admitted it, and the idea of Jeff getting hard over me getting fucked started to get me hard too. "But you have to promise not to say anything, not even to him. He made me promise never to tell anyone, not even you."

"And you were really going to keep it a secret from me?" Jeff asked sounding a bit hurt.
 
"Yeah, I promised him… but I probably would have told you soon enough anyway," I grinned.

"So how'd it happen? What did you do, jump the poor guy and rape him or something?" Jeff laughed.

"No, I didn't have to. He came onto me."

"Really?" Jeff said sounding surprised.
 
"Well it's not that hard to believe," I scowled.

Jeff laughed. "I just meant, you said he made you promise not to tell anyone, so being that worried about people finding out, how did he even know you'd be into it? It's not like anyone would think you were gay just by looking at you."

"Well… he, uh… heard us fucking," I said, wondering how Jeff would react to that.

He didn't say anything for a minute and then said, "Hmm that explains it then, why he wanted to fuck you so bad."

"What does?" I asked.
 
"He must have heard me say how tight your ass was," Jeff said and then laughed. Then the smile and laughter quickly disappeared. "So, was he better than me?" he demanded to know with all seriousness.

At six-three, he towered over my six-foot self and was kind of intimidating. The fact that he was in just a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt with his perfect pecs showing through, and biceps bulging, and his deep blue eyes piercing my own made him even more so. But I wasn't scared of him. "Hell yeah, way better," I said. The look on Jeff's face was priceless and I busted out laughing.

"You asshole," Jeff said laughing now too, and then he grabbed me and pushed me to the floor and started wrestling with me, but I managed to get on top pretty quickly and pin him down.
 
As I sat on him, I could feel his cock pressing through his jeans against my wet ass. He grinned at me and started grinding into me. I let out a soft sigh, letting my guard down, and he pushed me up, flipped me over onto my back and had me pinned now. He held my arms above my head with one hand and started undoing my shirt.
 
Once all my buttons were undone, he started running his hand down my body as he continued to hold my arms above my head with the other. I released little moans as his tongue explored my nipples and his hand got lower until he started undoing my pants. He kissed his way down my body as he unzipped my fly and pulled my pants over my throbbing cock.
 
With my cock exposed, his tongue left my body momentarily and I could feel his hot breath on my dick. "Oh, fuck, Jeff, suck me off! Please!" I begged as I lifted my head slightly and looked down into his blue eyes, which were staring up at me.
 
A grin came over his face, and then, quick as a flash, he grabbed me and flipped me onto my stomach and pulled my pants down and off to expose my ass. Then I could hear his fly unzip and his jeans sliding down and off before feeling his big dick between my bare cheeks as he started grinding his cock against my ass.
 
"Damn, Brad really did a number on you. Your ass is so wet from his load. I'm not even gonna need lube for this."

He started pushing his thick cock into my ass. It started sliding in all the way until every inch was in me. Jeff lifted my ass up for better support and started fucking me hard.

"Fuck yeah little bro, Brad's cock must have been pretty thick to stretch you this much. But your ass feels amazing wrapped around my dick."

"Hello?" a muffled voice called out from the front.
 
Because we were only in the hallway, I knew we were going to get caught in just seconds. My head was down and my teeth clenched as my brother drove his cock all the way inside me and held it there, frozen.

All Male Fiction: The Trouble with Twins

By: nevada_gavin & Ryan Michaels



There's one thing about having twin brothers - you're always in the minority. The twins were just a year younger than me, and they'd kept me on guard ever since my dad married their mom when I was just a kid. They were always up to something, usually at my expense. I hated it while I was growing up, but after I went off to college and got away from them for a few years, I was actually looking forward to seeing them again. We were all getting together for a family holiday at the folks, and I was wondering what kind of a stunt they were going to pull on me now that we were all adults. I had no doubt they were still as full of mischief as they had been when we were growing up. Boy, was I ever right about that!

They arrived home about an hour after I did and started razzing me right away, just like they had done years before. They'd grown up to be good-looking guys, their dark hair cut short and their builds solid. They'd both gotten into lifting weights, and it was showing up in their heavily muscled arms and thick chests. I was tall and slender, more a runner than a weightlifter.


After dinner, they put their heads together and kept looking over at me and nudging each other, laughing like they were plotting trouble. As I sat there watching them, I couldn't help but noticing that if I saw them in a bar, I'd be attracted to them. I'd never told them I was gay growing up, figuring it would just give them something else to razz me about, but once I went off to college I came out to my family. Everyone took it well and was very accepting. Oh, the twins still razzed me when we were all home, but they never razzed me about that.


I turned in shortly before midnight, and the twins followed suit. It was just like old times - me in my room, the twins across the hall, making a hell of a racket while getting ready for bed, and mom and dad in the master bedroom on the main floor.


I was just drifting off to sleep when I heard my door creak. I started to sit up, but the guys were on top of me before I could get my head off the pillow. I struggled, but I didn't have a chance in hell against them.