Straight Fiction: Silence Is Goldwyn

By: RejectReality

Once I started high school, my parents told me I was responsible for doing my own laundry. I didn't mind doing it, the problem was the laundry room in our building closed pretty early, at least for my liking.

The motel at the edge of town opening the 24-hour laundromat recently was a godsend and suited me perfectly, allowing me the freedom to do my laundry later at night. I preferred to do my laundry on Friday nights since I stayed up late on the weekends anyway, plus doing it later at night also meant I rarely had to deal with anyone and never had to wait for washers and dryers to be free.

It was one of those Friday nights and I was sitting in my parent's car waiting on my laundry. I checked the time on my phone, shut off the car, and headed back into the laundromat. The place was empty, as it usually was.

Once I transferred all my clothes from the washers to the dryers, I headed back out to my car. It was way more comfortable than the plastic seats inside, and I was parked close enough to use the free Wi-Fi.

With about five minutes to go on the dryers, I saw the motel room door just to my left open. Upon seeing my principal, Mr. Maclean, emerge, I covered the light from my phone and shrank back in my seat. He had developed a serious hate-on for me after I dated and then dumped his daughter.

Fortunately, he walked to his car and drove away. I breathed a sigh of relief but had to wonder why he was leaving a motel after midnight. It didn't really matter, so I decided to go ahead and empty the first dryer, which was a couple of minutes ahead of the one for which I had marked the time.

It worked out perfectly; by the time I'd finished with each load, the next dryer was shutting off. I stashed the first two baskets in my car, and then returned for the final one.

I put the last basket in the back seat and shut the door just in time for the same motel door to open. I could barely believe my eyes when I saw my senior English teacher, Ms. Goldwyn, step out of the door.

I couldn't help but stare.

She had her strawberry blonde hair down instead of tied back in a ponytail — though it looked a little mussed. She was wearing a tight black dress that showed off her body in a way that shocked me compared to the way she'd dressed in school. The skirt was short, and the neckline showed cleavage from tits that were way bigger than I'd realized they were.

I saw her stiffen and heard her gasp when she saw me. That was also the moment when I gathered enough of my wits to realize that my principal had exited the door only a few minutes before. I put two and two together, and the next thing I knew, I heard myself mutter, "Ms. Goldwyn?"

"Shit," she said under her breath.

I'd never heard her curse before, so it was yet another shock to the system that kept me from climbing in my car. We stared at each other in stunned silence for a couple of seconds before my face started to burn. I looked away and reached for the door handle.

"Jason, wait...," she said. I heard her heels clicking on the pavement as she quickly walked toward me.

I was too embarrassed to respond, but by the time I'd opened the car door, she was standing next to me. She put her hand on the door to keep me from opening it more.

"Jason, I can... This isn't..." She let out a great sigh, paused for a moment, and then asked, "Is there any chance you can forget what you saw here tonight?"

"I dunno," I muttered, not really meaning I wasn't sure if I could keep it a secret or not; it was just what came out while I was feeling uncomfortable and avoiding eye contact.

"Oh, God, I can't believe this is happening," she said, panicked. She knew I knew Mr. Maclean was married, and I'm sure she was afraid I was going to say something around school about what I'd witnessed.

She took a breath and said, "I can't believe I'm going to do this," then she took a step closer, and spoke quietly into my ear, "If you forget what you saw here tonight, I'll… I'll have sex with you."

Holy fucking shit! my inner voice screamed as I turned to look at her without thinking. Did she really just say that? All I could do was stand there frozen in place. I'm sure my mouth was hanging open, and my cock had gone from soft to rock-solid in almost an instant.

When I didn't immediately answer, she looked down and saw my hardness, then moved my hand that was holding the door and curled her fingers around my wrist. I let go of the door handle, and she pushed the door closed before pulling on my arm.

"Hurry, before anyone sees us," she said, pulling me in the direction of the motel room.

My heart and my thoughts were both racing as she drew me inside the room. The sight of the unmade bed rather forcefully reminded me of what she was supposed to be encouraging me to forget.

She cupped my chin in her hand and forced me to look at her. She was wearing her teacher expression when she said, "I want your word. I do this for you, and you never tell a soul what you saw here tonight."

"I... I..." My brain simply wouldn't work. All I could do was stammer and stare at her.

"Won't tell anyone?" she prompted, and then licked her lips.

"Won't tell," I repeated.

"Good," she said and smiled at me. "On the bed, then."

Ms. Goldwyn put her hand between my shoulder blades and prodded me to do as she had said with a gentle push. I took the couple of steps forward, still moving on autopilot and in complete disbelief that it was actually happening. Another push on my shoulder turned me around, and another prompted me to sit. I felt like a marionette with no control of my own body.

I was stiff as a board when she tried to lift my leg. My eyes homed in on her cleavage of their own accord. My face burned even hotter when I tore my gaze away from her tits.

"Nervous?" she asked while lifting my leg and putting a hand under the heel of my shoe.

I nodded.

"It's your first time, isn't it?"

I was too embarrassed to tell her she was right. I was awkward around girls, especially when it came to trying to get them into bed, and I had only ever dated one girl — Mr. Maclean's daughter — and she wouldn't put out ('I'm saving myself for marriage,' she told me) which is why I ended up dumping her.

"You don't have to say it. I can see it in your face. Just relax," she said while slowly pulling on my shoestring. "I promise that when I'm done, my mouth will be the only thing you'll remember about tonight."

All Male Fiction: Alex's Game (Part 2)

By: sebastian_wallace & Ryan Michaels

Read Part 1

Alex looked down at my dick as though to reassure himself that I was still aroused by this. Finding that I was - my little pencil was still poking upright in my briefs - he went on, "There's something weird about the slit on the head. It's kind of underneath it. I think it has something to do with my cock being so huge. You wanna see it?"

I'd never heard anything about this, even though I'd had dealings with cocks of many different shapes and sizes over the years. It was probably something unique to his own cock, which he just assumed was a consequence of its size; maybe a birthmark or a scar from a long-forgotten injury. I was intrigued, though, and figured it couldn't hurt to take a look, especially considering what had already transpired.

I shrugged. "I suppose so. But after that, we go back into the exam."

He smiled and said, "Yeah sure, whatever," and then, with his hand still on my shoulder, he began pushing down on it and said, "You'll have to kneel down on the floor to see it, though."

My knees began to buckle from the pressure he was exerting on my shoulder. "Yeah, kneel down," Alex urged as I began to willingly bend, lowering myself down until I felt the sharp coldness of the tile floor against my knees.

I peered intently at Alex's large, gently-pulsating organ. The smell of it - the sharp but inviting odor of the sweat in his pubic hair - was quite powerful as I stared closely at his piss slit. I didn't see anything unusual, though, and told him so.

"Take a look at it close up and you'll see," Alex replied. He was insistent, putting his hand on my head, as if to guide me towards the incongruity I was trying to find. He pushed his hips towards me so that his cock, now swollen to its full impressive size, was within an inch of my face.

I opened my mouth to tell him that I still couldn't see anything unusual, when Alex grabbed my head firmly and pushed his cock into my mouth. He slid it in and out a few times, no doubt feeling me resisting it in the initial shock of finding myself invaded by him, and then feeling me responding to him by urgently sucking at it as the pleasure of what he was doing overwhelmed me.

Still holding my head, he pulled his cock out of my mouth and swiveled my neck so that I was staring up at him open-mouthed. "You like that?" he asked. "Do you? Yeah, of course you do," he smirked before letting me answer, and then pushed himself back into my mouth.

I fed hungrily on his cock, as eager to pleasure it as if I were worshipping it; smothering it with my tongue and drinking the slow dribble of pre-cum down into my throat.

Alex soon bent over me as I blew him, and I heard him suck at one of his fingers before groping down my back to lift the bottom of my shirt and grope around my ass. He quickly located my asshole, hot and sweaty at the base of my ass crack, and pressed his moistened finger into me.

Perhaps sensing my intense pleasure at feeling myself penetrated and the eagerness to receive more, Alex stated, surprisingly calmly, "Stand up."

I did as he said, and watched as he reached down into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. From that he extracted a condom – a Trojan Magnum condom - and, with a practiced hand, quickly opened the wrapper and rolled the rubber down the length of his oversized prick.

All Male Fiction: Alex's Game (Part 1)

By: sebastian_wallace & Ryan Michaels

Revised: February, 2016

About half an hour into the exam, Alex raised his hand to attract someone's attention. Since I happened to be standing closest to him, I walked over to his desk.

As soon as the exam had started I'd been suspicious of him. The way he'd glanced around the exam room and leered over at me when he saw that I was one of the invigilators. I just knew he was going to try to disrupt things by asking dumb-ass questions or making pointless requests for unnecessary stationery or something.

One of his friend's was in the seat in front of him; another was a couple of feet to his side. He was bound to start pissing around. Who the fuck designed these seating plans anyway? Where were their brains?

"Yes, Alex?"

He grinned up at me. "May I go to the bathroom, Mr. Hargreaves, sir?"

Mr. Hargreaves, sir? Since when has he shown any respect for me? Smarmy little punk.

His friend to the left snickered.

I glared at Alex and then feigned an unpleasant smile, "Of course." So this was going to be his game - asking to go to the bathroom every ten minutes.

He stood up, his shirt hanging out from his school trousers, which were halfway down his backside. His school tie was yanked down so that the knot was level with his chest. I could easily have made a fuss about correct school uniform - make him publicly smarten himself up - but I thought I'd leave it. Keep it in the bag to give me something to use later on if I needed it.

He swaggered out of the classroom and I followed him, nodding to one of my colleagues to confirm I'd be supervising Alex while he was out of the room.

I felt pretty certain that this was just a ruse; a time-wasting activity designed to prove to Alex's buddies how unconcerned about the exam he was and to distract the more serious students from focusing on their papers.

This was the second paper for Physics. Alex didn't have a hope in hell of passing it; at least not if his performance in Math - the subject I taught him - was anything to go by.

He walked into the boy's room located just down the hall and I followed him in. Striding up to the nearest urinal, positioning himself in front of it so that he was side-on to me, he pulled out his cock. Then he looked over at me, smirking, clearly feeling pretty smart with himself, "Nice job for you, huh?"

I didn't rise to the bait. "You know the regulations by now Alex. You've got to be accompanied until you submit your paper."

He shrugged derisively, "Whatever." Then he looked down at his cock.

I noticed that, despite clearly being soft and floppy, his cock looked thick and large as he peeled back his foreskin to expose its fat, pink head. He wasn't urinating. He looked back over at me, "I can never go when someone's there."

"Do you want me to turn on a tap?" Why I was offering to do anything for him - the number of my classes which he'd deliberately and systematically ruined over the last four years - I don't know.

He shrugged. "It won't help."

Jesus, his cock was big. It must have been about six inches long and at least twice as thick as mine is even when I'm hard. Why was it always the pricks that got all the lucky breaks?

"What do you think of the paper?" he asked me. He wasn't even vaguely interested in my opinion of it. He was just trying to get me to comment on it so that he could claim he was unfairly influenced or something.

I smiled, "You know I can't discuss the paper with you... not now."

He grinned. "Like I'd tell anyone."

"Yeah, soul of discretion, aren't you?"

He looked a little irritated, or perhaps a little wounded. After a few seconds he said, "I'm smart enough to know when to keep my mouth shut."

I considered that and nodded slowly. Then I said, "Perhaps... but even if I wanted to discuss the paper, I haven't seen it for long enough to have formed an opinion on it."

He nodded and looked back down at his cock. He played with it idly while he waited for his bladder to relax. He jerked the foreskin across the broad head a couple of times. "Do you always have this much trouble going when you need to visit the boys' room?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "No, but then I don't usually have some old guy perving on me, do I?" Before I could challenge him on that, he looked up at me and grinned again. "I know... I know... it's the regulations."

I smiled back. "It was the 'old' bit which I objected to, actually. I'm only thirty."

Alex kept smiling, "Yeah, it was just a figure of speech." He looked back down at his cock. Unless I was mistaken, it seemed to be getting bigger. It looked distinctly less flaccid than it had been a few moments earlier. "Anyway," he said, "In public washrooms and stuff, you usually have other guys next to you pissing. Kind of relaxes you a little. Know what I mean?"

"Well, I offered to turn on the tap - the sound of running water…"

"It wouldn't help. It's different. I dunno."

I thought about suggesting that he return to the exam until the urge to pee grew stronger. But then I realized that would be playing into his hands; giving him the opportunity to distract everyone every few minutes on the pretext of having a nervous bladder.

"Well, if you can't go here and now, you're gonna have to wait an hour before you're allowed out again," I said. "So you better start thinking of waterfalls or something."

He looked over at me. "An hour?"

I nodded. "It's in the regulations." It wasn't but I wanted to nip things in the bud.

"No one's ever said that before."

"I can show you where it's written in the booklet, if you wanna stay back after the exam is finished?" I knew that Alex wasn't the type of guy to stay back in school a second longer than he had to.

He shrugged. "Look, I wanna go but I can't. It's just not happening even though it feels like I really need to go." He seemed surprisingly genuine. Perhaps he really was feeling nervous by having me standing there staring at him.

"I can't leave the room, Alex. You know that."

"Yeah, I know that…" He hesitated, staring ahead at the tiled wall in front of him. Then he went on, "I don't suppose you wanna take a piss, do you?"

All Male Fiction: Prep School Retreat

By: A.J.

It was our final year of prep school, and we were all eighteen-year-olds who were happy, healthy, and — at least some of us — quite horny. Being our final year, it was compulsory to attend the camp retreat. The camp setting was beside a back-beach of sun and surf, and there were tennis and basketball courts at the campsite itself.

Upon arrival, we poured off the bus and rushed for the log cabins. There were about eight cabins on the grounds, each capable of housing about eight guys in the double bunks, as well as a small function hall, kitchen and mess room, and a toilet block with showers. I somehow found myself in the same cabin with Scott, Adam, Brian and Kevin, all of with whom I was good friends. I'd had the hots for all of them for a while. They were all pretty nice looking. The only problem was, none of them, well, no one, in fact, knew I was gay, and I knew it wasn't something I could ever tell my friends.

Even though we were good friends, I'd never seen any of them naked before. We did take gym in school, but after gym class we simply changed and had to get to our next class. There was no time for showers, and no one ever took off their underwear when changing in and out of their gym clothes. The showers were there for the guys who were on the various school sports teams. Now, having the chance to share a cabin with them, as well as a communal shower, I was sure to get to see them naked, and that thought was pure bliss.

As for the other three that made up the eight of us, I knew them well enough, but just in passing; we weren't friends or anything. But, I guess that was precisely why we were assigned to the same cabin. The brothers who ran the school considered the retreat a place where we would all, whether we were already friends or not, get to know one another spiritually.

We had an itinerary to follow, including workshops, talk sessions, discussions, and group gigs over a variety of topics designed to "bring us close to God," as the brothers would say. We were also allotted some free time each day to do with what we wanted.

There was, however, one very strict rule put in place for us boys. An all-male nudist group had decided to use the somewhat secluded beach during our week's stay there, and because of this unfortunate (from the brothers' viewpoint) situation, that area of the beach was off limits to us. However, when Kevin decided, during our first free period on the very first day, that he wanted to go swimming, against all warnings of the brothers to stay away from that area of the beach, the five of us ended up stumbling upon the sights. And what sights they were!

Taking in the sights began to stir feelings in my crotch, and my semi-hard cock was making the moderate bulge in my clingy swim trunks obviously larger.

"Shit, we must have gone the wrong way," Brian cursed when he saw all the naked men lying about in the sand. "Let's get the fuck out of here, quick!"

"Yeah, let's!" Adam agreed as they both started to turn.

"Wait," Kevin said. "Are you afraid of the brothers? How are they even going to know we were ever here? It's not like we came here on purpose."

"I'm not afraid of the brothers," Brian said. "I just don't want to be surrounded by a bunch of naked homos."

"Me neither," Adam chimed in.

"How the fuck do you know they're homos?" Scott asked.

"Because, any guy that would join a nudist group that is for men only has to be a homo, and all of them joined, so they all must be homos," Brian replied.

"Yeah," Adam agreed.

"Yeah? So why don't you go over there and ask them and find out for sure?" Scott laughed.

"Fuck that," Brian replied. "I don't want to be that close to a bunch of naked guys!"

"Hate to break it to you, but you're gonna be that close to a bunch of naked guys every single day… when we all have to shower together in the mornings," I laughed, my cock lengthening a bit as I pictured that.

"Yeah, well, being naked with your buddies in the showers is a lot different than hanging out next to a bunch of naked guys on the beach, who you're pretty sure are fags."

"Yeah, but being naked in a communal shower is also different than being naked outside. Haven't you guys always wondered what it would be like to go skinny-dipping before?" Kevin asked.

"I go skinny-dipping all the time," Scott said.

"You do?" the rest of us all responded at the same time.

"Yeah, every day… in the shower," he laughed.

"I'm serious guys; have any of you ever?" Kevin asked again.

"Hmm, have I ever wondered what it would be like to go skinny-dipping with other guys? Uh, no," Brian replied.

"Okay, but being here, and seeing how private it is, and how you can just get naked, outside, in public, and no one cares, kind of makes you want to do it, doesn't it?" Kevin said staring out at the water.

  

"Uh, nope, not really," Brian said.

"It does me," Kevin said.

"Okay, then do it. Go on, I dare you!" Brian taunted.

"Yeah," Adam said. "Go on… or are you all talk?"

"Okay, I will," Kevin replied.

"Yeah, sure," Brian laughed. "Like you'd actually get naked outside, and in front of all those naked homos."

"I would, I will. I've always wanted to do it," Kevin said, and before any of us could say any more, he walked right over to the shore's edge.

I was having trouble keeping my meat from tenting my swim trunks just thinking about seeing Kevin naked, but just as he was about to take off his swim trunks, he instead jumped into the water. When he was waist-deep, he pulled his trunks off and waved them in the air.

As we walked along, encouraging him on, he swam parallel to us. But unbeknownst to him, Adam had sneaked into the water and scooped up the trunks that Kevin had left floating, brought them ashore, and placed them halfway up the beach. When he got tired of playing around, Kevin looked for his trunks, but couldn't find them.

"Hey! Who pinched my trunks?" he shouted when he realized they were gone.

"They're up there," replied Adam, pointing to them.

"Throw them here, will you?"

"You'll just have to come and get them if you want them," Brian said with a grin. "I just hope none of those guys over there," he said pointing at the nudists, "come running over and try to grab your junk before you can get to them," he laughed.

Kevin gave Brian the finger, and then he swam out of the surf and boldly and unashamedly walked up the beach to retrieve his swim suit. Not only did I get a close look at those well-developed shoulders and powerful pecs, that taut stomach and trim waist, but I also got to see a gorgeous blond bush surrounding a fairly long looking soft cock hanging above two huge orbs, the sight of which I engraved in my mind forever.

So, as it turned out, I didn't have to wait until our first morning shower together to see at least one of my buddies naked. But, if I thought that treat was wonderful enough, then what I was to see that night was even better.

It was well after midnight when we scrambled into the bunks and got all snug in our sleeping bags, and then proceeded to shoot the shit together. I, however, couldn't seem to get my thoughts off the sights from earlier that day, and I wanted to jerk off over it. But everyone else wanted to talk on, so I discreetly fondled my hardened meat in my sleeping bag while everyone else chattered.

As the sensations of my caresses increased, I closed my eyes to relive that skinny-dip and what I had felt like doing to Kevin when he got out of the water, and I was soon completely tuned out of anything else. As I heard my name mentioned in the conversation, I brought my senses back to reality, with eyes still closed.

"Hey, it looks like A.J.'s fallen asleep on us," Scott said.

"Simon's asleep, too. Must be that bunk. He crashed awhile back," replied Brian. Simon was one of the three guys I didn't really know, and he was sharing the bunk bed with me, with him on the top bunk.

"I think A.J.'s just faking it," Scott answered.

"I know how to wake him up," offered Kevin.

Opening my eyes slightly, I had this vision of a red caterpillar walking towards me. Kevin was still in his sleeping bag. Arriving at my bunk, he turned his back to me and leaned forward slightly as he began to lower his sleeping bag, with his ass pointing in the direction of my face.

Knowing he was about to pull the adolescent prank of farting in a sleeping guy's face, I sat up quickly and pulled my head towards the back of the bunk, put my hand out in front of my face and said, "Fuck off, I'm awake."

"Told you it would work," Kevin giggled, but what the other guys didn't know, and Kevin probably didn't either, was that when he had slid his sleeping bag down, his jockey shorts had slid down his ass a bit, revealing to me the upper part of his ass cheeks and a bit of his ass crack. That made my already throbbing cock throb some more.

After some laughter from the other guys, Kevin began waddling back to his bunk, but, in his haste, he slipped on the floor and came down with a thud.

"Are you all right Kevin?" I asked as the other guys laughed.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, joining in the laughter.

Picking himself up off the floor, he managed to waddle back to his bunk the rest of the way without falling. Conversation died down, Adam reached out and turned off the light switch located near to his bunk, and sleep settled in.

But I couldn't sleep; my hard-on wouldn't let me. I wanted to jerk off right then and there, but I was afraid that if someone was awake they'd hear me, and I knew if that happened I'd be teased for the rest of the trip.

I waited a bit, but my hard-on wasn't going away, so I quietly crept out of the bunk, having decided to go to the toilet block to take care of my problem. Just as I reached the door, I jumped a bit when Brian whispered out in the darkness, "Where you going, A.J.?"

"I have to take a piss," I whispered over my shoulder. Brian didn't respond and just lay back down. I opened the door, exited the cabin, and headed towards the toilet block.

When I got there, the only light was the one above the doorway that led inside. It was kind of creepy when I stepped inside, and I couldn't find any light switch. But, there was this kind of metal mesh along the top of the walls (for ventilation and to let the shower steam escape, I guessed), and the moonlight was shining through it, illuminating the room in areas just enough to see where I was going. That was probably better anyway, than if all the lights had been on; more private for what I was planning to do.

I made my way through, past the urinals and toilet stalls, back towards the shower area. I wanted to be away from the toilet area in case someone else came along to use the washroom.

There was a long bench along a wall by the shower area where people got changed; it was perfect. Pulling my underwear down, I sighed out loud as my hand was finally able to make contact with my horny cock. After a few minutes, I pulled my t-shirt off, as I liked to be completely naked when I jerked off, whenever possible. I didn't consider it too risky; I mean, I was already naked below the waist pumping my raging hard-on, so did it really matter at this point if I had my t-shirt off, too?

Now totally naked and boned, I lay down on the bench and began pumping away furiously on my own meat, imagining myself walking up to Kevin on that beach as he came out of the water naked, dropping to my knees and giving him a blowjob.

So engrossed was I in my own little fantasy that I failed to hear the toilet door creak open and close. "What's going on here?" a deep, stern sounding voice said in the darkness.

All Male Fiction: The J.O.C.K. Club (Part 8)

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

All Male Fiction: I Spy (Part 3)

By: Unknown Author

Read Part 2 | Read Part 1

Several weeks later, Eric found himself in another predicament. Shortly after his steamy encounter with Andy in the coach's office, Coach Anson had been suspended by the school board on unspecified grounds. Everyone knew the reason though. Rumors had spread that school employees and students were fucking in the men's locker room. Charges were not laid, as there was no proof found, but even so, parents didn't want Coach Anson around their kids after that, and he was not expected to return to Southfield High.

Eric felt bad about the coach's situation and, given that Alex Diego, Andy Garner, the coach, and Eric were the only ones who knew what had been going on in the coach's office, he wanted to make sure the coach understood that he hadn't told anyone or started the rumor. He didn't think Coach Anson would agree to meet with him, though, so he decided he'd just drop by the coach's house and pay him a surprise visit instead.

The coach lived in a small ranch-style house on the far edge of town. Friday night, after Eric's parents were asleep, he rode his bike out to Coach Anson's house. Eric knocked on the front door, but no one answered. As he went to leave, he saw that there was a light on in a room on the side of the house. He wondered if that was Coach Anson's bedroom and if he might be undressing. He couldn't help himself and, after hiding his bike behind some bushes, crept around to the side of the building.

The small window was a couple of feet above Eric's eye level, but he stood on the air-conditioning unit and stared inside. Eric saw a bachelor's bedroom - a few pieces of furniture, a king-size bed with white sheets, and a closet with athletic clothes stuffed in at all angles. The light came from a lamp next to the bed. No one was in the room.

Just then, Eric saw Coach Anson strut into the bedroom from the hallway, and he was fully naked, with a towel slung over his shoulder. He was dry, so Eric figured he was only just about to take a shower. He watched the coach's big cock sway between his muscular thighs, as he walked over and took something from the dresser drawer. Eric couldn't see what, as the coach's back was now to him, but he could see the coach's broad, muscular shoulders, his rippling back, and his tight, muscular ass. He took in the sight until Coach Anson walked back out of the bedroom.

Eric's curiosity to see Coach Anson in the shower overwhelmed him. He pushed up on the double-hung window and happily found that it wasn't latched. He quietly slid it open and stepped cautiously through. He quietly pushed the window closed again, before tiptoeing across the room to the open bedroom door.

The sound of Coach Anson's shower filled the hallway; wisps of steam escaped through the bathroom door that was slightly ajar. Eric crept over to the door, pushed it slowly, and peered in. Steam fogged up the bathroom mirror that ran the length of the room. The coach had various bathroom items along the wall near his sink – aftershave, shaving cream, cologne, workout supplements, and... What the fuck was that? Right next to the shower was an eight-inch, flesh-colored dildo standing on its base. Eric had never seen anything like it; he took in a quick breath to regain his composure.

Coach Anson stood in the shower, behind a clear, slightly opaque shower curtain. Due to the bathroom ceiling lights, Eric could make out the coach's silhouette - his meaty shoulders, his bulging pecs, his powerful back, his thick glutes, and his bulging prick. Eric watched in awe as Coach Anson soaped up his cock and massaged it in his soapy hands.

Eric's attention quickly returned to the eight-inch dildo standing erect outside the shower. As he nervously and boldly opened the door wider and took a few steps into the bathroom to get a better look at it, he slid on the bathroom tile floor. He caught himself, but not before his right foot smacked the underside of the sink with a loud slap.

Coach Anson was startled by the unexpected noise and dropped his soap on the tub floor. His hand brushed back the shower curtain to see his intruder standing in his bathroom. He stared at Eric, while Eric's eyes absorbed the sight of Coach Anson standing naked and wet. The coach's muscular 5'10", 190-pound frame glistened from the steamy hot shower, and his nipples became erect from the cold breeze of the bathroom. The coach's cock stood semi-erect below a dense bush of wet pubic hair, and was all covered in soap suds; his balls were shaved smooth.

Eric tried to turn and bolt, but Coach Anson stepped out of the shower and tackled him, knocking Eric to the floor, just outside the bathroom door. He then roughly flipped Eric over onto his back. "Eric Anderson! I don't know what the fuck you think you're doing here, breaking into my house in the middle of the night, but you're not going anywhere just yet!" Coach Anson bellowed with authority.

All Male Fiction: The J.O.C.K. Club (Part 7)

By: MrCreamJeans

Read Part 6 | Read Part 1

Kenny had really been thinking about what the jocks had said to him. He also had another reason not to go to the meeting. "I don't know, man," he said to Jon. "I think I might lay low for a while with the jeans creaming thing."

The disappointment on Jon's face was obvious. The Tuesday morning meetings were his favorites, because he had a perfect view of Kenny's desk in the class right before the meeting.

Kenny continued, "Besides, I got nothin' saved up, you know?"

"You been beating off again?" Jon asked teasingly. His hand went into his pocket.

"Not exactly," Kenny replied. "You know Suzie, the blond cheerleader?"

"Yeah?"

Kenny looked his friend in the eye, barely able to contain his glee. "She sucked me off yesterday after school!"

"No way!" Jon shouted as his cock began to stiffen at the thought. "Oh, man! Details, details!"

"Well, she was at the dance, you know?" Kenny said. He noticed Jon's hand already busy in his pocket and decided to make the story as arousing as he could. "And she saw me walking around all hard and everything."

"Everybody saw that, dude," Jon kidded.

"Yeah, but it gets her all hot, you know? So yesterday at school, she comes up to me and says what Michelle did was really awful, and how she wanted me to come to her house after school."

"Oh, fuck!" Jon exclaimed.

"So I go over there, and she, like, doesn't waste any time at all. The next thing I know, we're on the couch makin' out like crazy." Kenny's voice took on a different tone as he remembered the events. "Oh man, her lips were so soft, and she totally wanted to French and everything."

"Yeah? Yeah? Get to the good stuff!" Kenny's impatient friend insisted, his loose jeans tented and wiggling.

"Ok, so she starts rubbing my cock through my pants... and she's even better at it than Michelle! Pretty soon I'm thinking, 'Fuck, this was all a setup. She just wants to make me cream my pants like Michelle!' But just then, she reaches for my belt and starts undoing it. I'm like, 'Whoa!'"

"I bet!" Jon said, his breathing becoming erratic.

"And so she opens my pants, and she sees my boxers..." Kenny said, suddenly remembering Jon's "thing" for his boxers, "...the real faded ones, you know?"

"Oh fuck," Jon murmured.

Kenny smiled as he continued, "And she goes, 'Oooooh, I like your boxers!'" Kenny was embellishing the truth a little for Jon's benefit. Jon was so easy to mess with. "Then she starts rubbing my cock through my boxers! Aww, man that felt soooo good!" Jon was quiet, so Kenny continued. "And then, man, and then I could feel some pre-cum coming out, and like all of a sudden there's this wet spot on my boxers."

"Wow," Jon sighed.

"And I couldn't believe it, man. She leaned over and stuck her tongue out, and licked the wet spot!"

Jon couldn't do anything but whimper. He was stroking his cock like crazy through his pocket picturing Suzie licking Kenny's hot boxers.

"Well, my cock really jumped when she did that. She looked up at me and grinned, and then... well, you're not gonna believe this, man."

"What? What?" Jon rasped.

"She grabbed my boner in my boxers and put her lips all the way around it," Kenny said. It was actually a lie – Suzie had taken his cock out of his boxers before she sucked on it, but he knew this would send Jon into a frenzy.

It was working. Jon was blatantly jacking off inside his pants. Anyone who even glanced their way would have seen Jon's fly rhythmically jumping and his face bright red with arousal.

"Then she started licking the head right through my boxers, and pretty soon she was moving her lips up and down, giving me a blowjob right through my fuckin' shorts!" Kenny said. "Aww man, I couldn't hold back. I totally creamed in her mouth right through my favorite boxers."

Kenny hadn't really been watching Jon very closely. He knew Jon was masturbating in his jeans, but didn't realize how far things had gone. With only one block before they got to school, Kenny turned to his shaking, panting buddy.

"Dude! Don't shoot now! You got the contest second period. Don't waste it!" Kenny urged.

"Mmmphh!" Jon grunted, using all his will power to hold back his load. Through clenched teeth, he hissed, "Can't... hold... it! Gotta... gotta... oh fuck!" Abandoning all hope of holding back his load, Jon grasped his cock through his pocket and boxer shorts and started milking his hot, slippery juice into his jeans. Streams of cum shot out and began soaking through the fabric and running down his leg.

"Aww, mannnn!" Kenny taunted. "You got noooo self-control! What a dude!" He knew this humiliating talk would arouse Jon even more. "You're totally jizzing your jeans, man. Right out in front of everyone!" There were actually only a handful of students in range, and none looking in their direction, but it added to the embarrassing picture. "Look at that wet spot! What a fucking mess!"

Jon stroked his trapped cock furiously as Kenny put him down for his lack of control. It was embarrassing. He knew he didn't have any control over his dick. He knew he was making a big mess of his jeans even before school started, and he'd have to walk around all morning with a big sperm stain. But it was worth it. His cool buddy Kenny was the one who made him do it, and now he was the one who was making fun of him, this cool kid teasing him about wetting his pants in public; wetting them with cum.

Finally, Jon sighed deeply and took his hand out of his pocket. Kenny just grinned and shook his head.

"That's gonna dry before the contest, man," Kenny said. "Are you gonna be able to get off again by second period?"

"I will if you will," Jon said, grinning.

All Male Fiction: Private Lessons (Part 3)

By: Ryan Michaels

ryanxxx@hotmail.com

Read Part 2 | Read Part 1

I stopped dead as I heard Mr. Johnson's voice. My heart began beating faster and my shoulders stiffened and rose slightly. I was frozen in place momentarily, and then I slowly turned around, full of trepidation.

As I came to face him, however, despite my fear and anxiety, my eyes automatically fell on my teacher's long dong. It was soft now, well almost. Rather than hanging down long and straight as it always had when I had seen it those other times, now it was pointing out from his body very slightly. The head of his giant cock was red, and I could see the shine of wetness on the tip. I knew why, and so did Mr. Johnson! Now the only question was, did he know that I knew, and, if he did, what was he going to do about it?

After realizing where my eyes were, I raised them up Mr. Johnson's body to meet his eyes. He must have known I was looking because he had stood silently for those few moments that I had been mesmerized by his big penis.

Once eye contact had been made, Mr. Johnson spoke. "Where do you think you're going, Ryan?"

"I-I'm going back to my dorm room, sir."

"Not yet you're not," Mr. Johnson said and started to approach me.

I felt myself start to tremble slightly. Then Mr. Johnson, standing right in front of me now, reached out and took my jockstrap, which was dangling below my books, the one strap of which had been held by one of my fingers. In my haste to get in and out of there as quickly as possible, I hadn't even realized that I had snagged it when grabbing my books.

"You know that you're not allowed to take your jock back to your dorm, Ryan," Mr. Johnson said. The jockstraps were provided by the school, with each student's first name and the first initial of their last name written on the front of the wide waistband with permanent marker. After they had been worn (we didn't wear them for every gym class) they were to be tossed in a bin for laundering and never allowed to be removed from the locker room.

"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Johnson. I didn't even know I had hooked it with my books. I guess I just forgot to toss it in the bin after I got dressed."

"Ok, Ryan," Mr. Johnson said. "Now you'd better get back to your dorm. Looks like you have quite a bit of homework you should be doing," he said nodding at the pile of books in my hands.

"Yes, Mr. Johnson. Goodbye Mr. Johnson," I blurted nervously, and then I quickly turned on my heels and made for the door.

Once outside, I fell back against the locker room doors and let out a big sigh, relieved that Mr. Johnson hadn't confronted me about peeping on him. Obviously, he had no idea that I had witnessed his private moment in the showers or he surely would have said something.

A moment later, I found myself turning around and pressing my eye to the thin crack that appeared between the double steel doors of the locker room. My line of sight was filled with a rear view of my naked teacher walking away. I looked at his ass, and then below it and saw what I, for some reason, longed to see, part of his large cock hanging down between his legs, swinging and bouncing around as he padded across the locker room floor. My attention was diverted from my teacher's oversized penis when he neared the bin where the jockstraps got deposited and kept on walking without dropping mine into it, still holding it in his hand as he turned and headed in the direction of his office.

I didn't know what to make of all that I had seen, but I knew one thing for sure: I needed to get back to the dorms and jerk off right away!

After I got off, homework, sleep, and the next day's classes had kept my mind otherwise engaged and off thoughts of the previous afternoon. But now it was time for gym class again, and I was dreading it. During the hours between classes, I had somehow managed to convince myself that Mr. Johnson was fully aware that I had spied on him in the showers, and was fearful of the repercussions I might face now that he had had a day to think over exactly what it was he was going to do about it.

When gym class ended, Mr. Johnson, as expected, put me in the last shower rotation to shower with him and one other student. At least it wouldn't be just me and Mr. Johnson this time. That would assure that he wouldn't bring anything up in the showers, and I planned to make sure I was dressed and out of there before my other shower mate.

But, Mr. Johnson didn't take his shower with the last two as he almost always did. It was just me and Tommy Mitchell, a classmate I didn't really associate with.

This just convinced me even more that he knew I knew what he had done in the showers because he was making a point not to shower with me. The fact that he had chosen not to, settled my nerves. Now I knew I could shower and dress and get out of there without seeing him again for sure. Despite this, though, I still found myself kind of wishing he would come and take a shower with us so I could get a look at his cock again… and it was with those thoughts of my teacher's large penis that my own started to get hard!

I couldn't believe it! I had never once sprung a boner in the showers in front of my classmates, only Mr. Johnson. And now here I was getting one in front of Tommy Mitchell!

All Male Fiction: My Best Friend (Part 3)

By: Lucas Miller

Read Part 2 | Read Part 1

Josh had to go to class later in the afternoon. Although I had hoped we would stay in bed all day, it was also nice to spend some time alone. I reflected over the events of the past two days. I smiled at the memory of Josh and me in the showers starting our fun together. Then there was the pleasurable blowjob I had given to Carl behind the garage. Then, of course, there was Marc. My heart raced at the thought of him wearing my underwear, his mouth on my cock, and the wonderful sensation of his ass surrounding my dick as I fucked him.

Marc was the first and only guy I had fucked. But even before we'd had sex I felt a different kind of attraction to him. I hoped that he wasn't upset about Josh and me spending the morning together. I wanted to stay close with Marc… I wanted to continue to see him. I wondered if Josh would mind including him in our sexual play. They had fucked too, so why not?

All of this passed through my mind as I showered. The showers were quite busy, but I was oblivious to those around me. When I had finished I returned to Josh's room and dressed. I thought that I would spend a couple of hours exploring the campus. Before leaving, however, I noticed that Marc's computer was on. I went over to see if I could access it to check my e-mail. Luckily, he didn't have his computer password protected.

When I opened the browser, out of curiosity I checked his bookmarks and found some gay sites. Towards the end of his bookmark list was a page titled "My Blog". I clicked on it, and what loaded was an online journal Marc had been keeping. There was a list of entries, with the first one dated over two years ago. He had been in high school then.

It felt wrong violating Marc's privacy, but curiosity had the better of me, and I clicked on the first entry. It began with: "A new life began today…"

I was worried that Marc might come in while I was reading this, so I hit the print key and watched as page after page after page came out of the printer. It took nearly fifteen minutes to print the entire journal. When it was finally done, I closed the site, then deleted my browsing history so Marc wouldn't know I had accessed his journal. After gathering up the pile of papers, I put them in my knapsack and, without even bothering to check my email, I left the room.

I found out right away that the campus was in constant motion. There were so many people around that it was impossible to find a quiet place to sit and read Marc's journal. In the end I decided to go to the library to find a private corner.

On the first floor nearly all the chairs were filled, so I went to the elevator and took it to the sixth floor. There were fewer people there and I found a relatively private place to sit. I say relatively because I was probably about twenty feet from a couple who were studying together, mixed with some giggling on the girl's part when her boyfriend would whisper things in her ear and touch her. But I wasn't going to find any better place to sit.

I pulled the journal out of my knapsack and started to read it:

A new life began today. I have spent my life in near isolation, keeping others away from me, preferring to be alone. My dating experience is slim. I have kissed only two girls and I am almost seventeen. I have never touched a girl's boobs or had sex with a girl. Strangely, I never even think about it. It's not that I am disgusted by sex or girls, but having sex with the girls I know doesn't seem comfortable to me. I thought one day I would get comfortable with girls, but it hasn't happened. I think I found out why, today.

I know I am taking a chance writing about this and putting it online. Although I know the Internet is so vast that the likelihood of someone stumbling upon my blog is very small (It's not like I advertise it, give the URL to people or share it), I still know I am taking a risk of exposing myself to my classmates and family. I suppose if this does happen it would be a good way to let those who are close to me know who I really am.

So, my life truly started today. It totally happened by accident (I think). I had been sick yesterday and had forgotten to get an assignment from Mr. Morgan, my English teacher. After school I remembered the missed assignment and went back to his classroom. It was empty, but I heard movement coming from Mr. Morgan's office, which is connected at the back of the room.

I made my way toward it. The door was closed, but not completely. There was a small crack between the door and door jam. I peered in and saw Mr. Morgan digging through the bottom of his desk drawer. His back was to me. I was going to knock, but the way he was searching made me a little curious as to what he was looking for. I decided to wait until he found it, then I would go in.

Finally, Mr. Morgan pulled out a magazine from far back in the drawer. He opened it up and began leafing through it. As he did this he turned his chair to the side so that he was partially facing me. I could clearly see his face. He was smiling and licking his lips.

Mr. Morgan is a pretty cool teacher. He gives us a lot of work, but is always cool about grading. No one ever failed his class. He is also pretty good looking for a guy in his thirties. He has short brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a trim body. It was strangely exciting watching him without his knowledge. I was able to really look him over.

Then he held up the magazine and I could see the cover. It had a man in a leather outfit standing next to another guy in what looked like a ski mask. The man in leather held a chain that ended at a collar around the other guy's neck. It was a gay magazine!

I couldn't believe Mr. Morgan was gay. This was a good piece of gossip, but I realized I didn't have anyone I would really tell it to. I continued to watch.

Mr. Morgan was rubbing the front of his dress pants. He set the magazine down and opened his zipper. He pulled his dick out of his pants through his opened zipper, and it was hard! I was stunned by how long and thick his dick was. It had to be at least eight inches long. Much bigger than mine. And there he was moving his hand over it.

What surprised me the most was that my own dick was now hard in my pants. I wanted to pull mine out, too, but I had books in my hand and was afraid to move for fear of him hearing me. So I stayed still and just watched.

As I read Marc's words I started to become aroused. Although I was far enough from the giggling couple, I thought it would be best to be alone. I located the men's room and went inside. It was empty, so I took the last stall. I pulled down my pants and sat down on the toilet. I continued to read:

Mr. Morgan was beginning to sweat and moan. My dick was doing its best to tear through my underwear and jeans. It hurt like hell and I had to release it from its confines. As quietly as I could, I stepped back and set my books down on a desk in the last row. I moved just as quietly back to the door.

Mr. Morgan's hand was moving quickly over his hard dick now. I unzipped my jeans, reached inside and pulled out my own dick. I began copying his every motion. When he slowed down, I slowed down. When he quickened his pace, I followed. When he began pulling at his balls, I started pulling at my balls.

My own cock was rock hard now and I started to imagine Marc's encounter with his teacher. I anticipated Marc's next move, hoping he would storm into the room and suck Mr. Morgan's cock. I read on:

I could tell Mr. Morgan was getting close to cumming. His moaning was getting a little louder and he was starting to grunt a little. Then a long string of cum flew from his dick and landed on the floor. Another smaller glob landed on his pants. The rest ran down the side of his dick.

I also started to cum. Most of it ended up in my hand, but some remained on my dick. I had never done it before, but with no other option, I ate the cum from my hand and then wiped my hands on the back of my jeans before stuffing my dick back into them and zipping up.

Quietly, I went back over to where I had laid my books and picked them up. Moving back to the outside of his office, I waited until he had put his dick back in his pants, then I knocked on the door.

He greeted me pleasantly, but with noticeable nervousness. I asked for my assignments and he got them together quickly. As he was doing it I noticed the magazine still on his desk. He caught me looking at it and his eyes got wide. I just smiled at him, and then he handed me the assignments. "Thanks, Mr. Morgan," I said, took another glance down at the magazine and then left his office and his classroom.

This was the end of the first entry. I flipped through a few more of the pages and saw Mr. Morgan's name throughout several of them. I hoped there was more to their encounter.

I was going to jerk off, but I heard someone come in. Whomever they were, they moved down toward my stall and ended up right on the other side of the door. They stayed there for a few seconds, then went to the stall right before mine. It was very odd. It was only then, drawing my eyes away from my reading material for the first time that I noticed a hole in the wall of the stall where the toilet paper holder should have been.

Moments later a half-hard dick poked through it. "You want to suck this?" the guy whispered.