All Male True Experience: Between Friends

'The Blow-up Doll'

By: Ryan Michaels

 

Rob and I first crossed paths working at a local bathhouse. We hit it off almost immediately, transitioning quickly from coworkers to close friends who hung out regularly outside of shifts. We’d candidly trade stories about our encounters with customers, though the boundary between us remained strictly platonic; we never crossed that line.

Eventually, the owner of the bathhouse passed away, the business closed its doors, and the estate put the building up for sale. Rob, who only worked there part-time while running a small business on the side, managed to stay afloat until he picked up another part-time gig to supplement his income. I wasn’t as fortunate. The bathhouse had been my full-time livelihood, and the local job market was bleak. As my savings dwindled and the job hunt turned up dry, I was forced to pack up and move forty-five minutes outside the city to stay with my parents until I could get back on my feet financially.

The distance changed our routine. We couldn't just hang out on a whim anymore, but we kept the connection alive through phone calls and online chats.

Over time, our conversations took an unexpected turn. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment the shift happened, but we eventually started having phone sex. It felt like a natural progression; we had spent years sharing the intimate details of our sex lives, and now that we were physically apart, sharing those stories began to trigger something deeper. We’d get horny, the tension would build, and we’d end up jerking off together over the phone. It was during these intense phone sessions that Rob discovered a side of me he’d never suspected—just how kinky and raunchy my tastes actually were.

The reality was that Rob’s sex life was thriving while mine was completely stagnant, leaving our catch-ups heavily dominated by his latest conquests. The town where my parents lived had a population of about one hundred thousand, but it lacked any visible gay community or cruising spots. Hard as I tried, I just couldn't find anyone locally to hook up with. I could have driven down to the city to visit a bathhouse, but my work schedule barely left me the time, and I hated the thought of driving all that way, paying admission, and still possibly striking out. Rob, meanwhile, was still in the heart of the city, surrounded by the gay village, bathhouses, and cruising areas. For him, a hookup was always just a short walk or subway ride away. My sex life had become entirely solitary.

I never cared for cam sex, and cybersex was just as unappealing—reading typed-out messages felt completely sterile and did very little for me. If someone was going to say dirty things to me, I wanted to hear the inflection in their voice; a phone call was the only thing that actually worked. So, I relied on a small collection of porn and the occasional phone sex session with Rob.

This was the early 2000s, long before the explosion of free tube sites, back when most online adult content required a paid monthly subscription. Since smartphones didn’t exist yet (only the basic cell phone), I didn't own a PC or laptop, and I certainly wasn't going to pay a monthly fee just to browse on my parents' desktop, I was left entirely dependent on physical media, which wasn't all that unusual back then.

Before long, though, my small collection of videos grew stale. Desperate for variety, I drove down to a local adult bookstore to rent some DVDs. It was there, while checking out at the counter, that I noticed a row of boxes containing blow-up dolls stacked on the shelf directly behind the cashier.

Later that night, while I was masturbating to the new porn I'd rented, my mind drifted back to those boxes. If the real thing wasn't an option, maybe a cheap doll could serve as a decent substitute.

When I returned to the store a few days later, I made up my mind. As the cashier scanned my new rentals, I spoke up, keeping my voice low.

"Um, how much are those?" I asked, nodding toward the shelf of blow-up dolls.

All Male Fiction: Humiliation Games [Audio Story]

 

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Straight Fiction: I am ALPHA!

By: Unknown Author

Girls want to fuck Alpha Males.

Let it piss you off as much as you want, but you know it's true.

That girl you like who is totally sweet and you have the biggest crush on? The one who keeps going back to guys who treat her wrong for reasons you don't understand? The one who calls you up at 1 am to cry about how her boyfriend hasn't called her in three days. The one who will curl up next to you on the couch, hug you close, kiss you on the cheek, and never let you fucking touch her beyond that?

Yeah, I'm fucking her.

The hot girl behind the coffee counter who won't even smile at you? The one who won't even say hi to you? The one who takes your money and shoves your coffee at you? The one who forgets you exist before you've even stepped away from the counter?

Yeah, I'm fucking her too, even harder.

The geeky girl you think might be enough like you that you have a chance with her? The one you think is so incredible? The one you still haven't worked up the courage to tell how you feel about her?

Guess who just sucked me off and told me they'll always love me?

And what's more? I laugh at guys like you. When you cry about how much girls treat you bad and wonder why they can't just see that you're a nice guy who would always treat them right? I nod and tell you to hang in there, you'll find someone right for you someday, don't give up hope man. But inside? I'm laughing my ass off at you, you pathetic fuck.

Every girl you set your sights on, I'm going to fuck six ways from Sunday and cum in their mouths, pussies, and faces before you can even tell her you think she's cute.

And the biggest reason I laugh? Because it's not me doing all this…

All Male Fiction: The House Painters

By: Unknown Author & Ryan Michaels

 

The one good thing about living in Houston, Texas, which is very hot and humid during the summer, is that men tend to strip off their shirts whenever the opportunity presents itself; so, there is a lot of eye candy to look at, and that makes a good trade-off for living in such a hot and humid city.

One summer morning, I changed into my bike shorts and hopped on my bike and started peddling around the neighborhood. I had been riding for about an hour when I drove by a house that had a For Sale sign out front, and a couple of guys painting the outside of it.

Both of the painters looked to be in their mid-twenties, and both were working without shirts on, wearing just shorts and shoes. Both were tanned and well-built. I wouldn't have kicked either guy out of bed, and checking them out caused a stirring inside my bike shorts. I almost hit the curb looking at them.

After averting a header over the handlebars and preparing to get my bike back in motion, I noticed there was a pickup truck with deep purple metallic paint backed in the driveway with a For Sale sign taped to the windshield. I wasn't in the market for a vehicle, but I decided that pretending to be interested and going up and taking a look at it would give me the perfect opportunity to get a closer look at the hot studs that were painting the house.

"Can I help you?" the one guy called over when he saw me there.

"I just noticed the For Sale sign while passing by; just taking a look, thanks," I replied.

I took a good look at the truck to look convincing as to why I was there and was about to get back on my bike and ride off when the guy called out to the other one, "Yo, Mike, there's some guy interested in your truck."

The other guy came jogging over to the driveway.

"Hi, I'm Mike," he said with a smile once he arrived in front of me. "You interested?" he asked.

God, was I interested, but not in his truck! The man was even more gorgeous up close. Of course, I indicated I was interested, saying that I had no vehicle and was tired of peddling my bike around town, and he started telling me about the truck, which afforded me the opportunity to take a good look at his body.

He was about five-foot-eight, had dark brown hair, a naturally smooth chest, tanned skin, and was sporting a six-pack as well as a couple of tattoos. Other than baggy cut-off shorts riding low on his hips, he was not wearing any other clothes except tennis shoes without socks. He also had specs of white paint all over him which made him look even sexier.

This guy could really chatter on and on but he finally came to a pause in his long-winded sales pitch and said, "I gotta tell you dude, if you end up buying my truck, don't give up on the cycling; it's obviously gotten you, and kept you, in great shape, and you wouldn't want all that hard work to go down the drain."

I knew that his comment was purely innocent, just a guy in good shape complimenting another guy who was also in good shape, and not a come-on, but I decided to be kind of bold in my response and said, "Thanks. Cycling is great for the legs and butt, but you've got an amazing chest. Wish mine looked as good as yours."

He grinned and then did that thing bodybuilders do where they make their pecs jump.

"Wow, that's amazing. How do you do that?"

"It's not hard; anyone can do it if they do the right weight training to develop those muscles," Mike replied. "So, back to the truck, you interested in buying her?"

Obviously, I had no interest in buying his truck, so I said, "I'll definitely think it over, but right now I gotta jet. I really gotta piss bad and need to find a bush or something." That last part was true; I really did need to piss badly.

"Dude," he laughed. "No need to be pissing on some old lady's bush. The house is empty, but we're also painting up the inside and have got the key. You are more than welcome to go inside and use the washroom if you want."

"Are you sure it's ok?" I asked.

"Sure. Not a problem, dude. Come on, I'll show you where it is."

I thanked him and I took in his ass as he led me to the house and then showed me where the washroom was.

I went into the washroom, closed the door, and took care of my full bladder.

As I was coming down the hall from the washroom I could see the living room and noticed that Mike, as well as the other guy, were both in the house now, and Mike was saying something to him quietly. When I got out into the living room, Mike introduced me to his buddy, telling me his name was Brad.

Brad also looked to be in his mid-twenties, with the same dark brown hair on his head, and some close-cropped hair on his chest, and was muscular, too, but not quite as ripped as Mike. Like Mike, he was also sporting a couple of tattoos and wearing nothing but baggy cut-off shorts hanging low on his hips.

After introducing me, Mike indicated they were going to take a break and wanted to know if I wanted a beer. Naturally, I said yes.

Mike opened the lid of a cooler that sat in the room and pulled out three beers, handing one to Brad and one to me.

Because the house was empty, there was no furniture in the place, so Mike grabbed some empty paint buckets and turned them upside down, placing two of them side by side and the third opposite them.

I was sitting across from Mike and Brad, and every time Mike lifted the beer can to his lips his right bicep flexed and it was driving me crazy with lust. After sneaking a furtive glance at Mike's crotch, I also noticed that the top button on his cutoffs was now undone and I could see even more of the jet-black streak of hair leading down to his crotch.

Besides being sexually attracted to Mike, I also admired his ripped physique and wanted to know how he achieved it, so I started asking Mike about his workout routine.

Brad's male competitive spirit kicked in and he immediately started ragging on his buddy saying, "Mike may have bigger muscles, but for the muscle that counts the most with women, I have him easily beat."

Mike shook his head, seemingly having heard this argument before, and then rolled his eyes and said, "Brad is just jealous because I get more looks from women than he does."

"You may get the looks, but that's all you get because while you are spending all your time in the gym with your 'homo' bodybuilder friends, I get my workout laying pipe with the ladies, lots of ladies." Brad then jumped up and stood in front of both of us and cupped and squeezed his crotch in his hands and said, "Women like a big dick better than they like big muscles, and they'll choose the big dick every time."

Meanwhile, my dick was begging to get hard, which is bad when you are wearing skin-tight Lycra bike shorts. I was praying they would not notice my growing bulge, and I leaned forward a bit so they would not spot the evidence.

"You've only seen me pissing, so how would you know? I'm probably as big as you are, or bigger when I'm hard," Mike responded.

Brad scoffed at this and then looked at me and asked, "What would you prefer if you were a chick, a big dick, or big muscles?"

"I'd have to see your dick to know for sure, since I have already seen Mike's muscles, which, I have to say, are pretty awesome." I couldn't believe I actually said those words, but by that point, I was buzzed after the exercise and drinking a beer on an empty stomach, and so fucking horny. I knew if it hadn't been for that, I would never have been bold enough, or brave enough, to respond that way.

But what I really couldn't believe was Brad's reaction to my statement. Instead of getting mad and asking me if I was some kind of homo, or telling me to get the fuck out of there, he simply started to unbutton his shorts and hauled out an uncut cock. It hung about five inches or so, soft.

After pulling it out, he let go of it and crossed his arms over his chest. When he did that, his loose-fitting shorts fell to the floor leaving him there naked just a few feet in front of me.

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: The Abduction (Part 2)

By: Rob & Ryan Michaels

Read Part 1

I came to my senses quite suddenly as I felt something cold brush against my neck. I blinked my eyes, trying to see. It dawned on me again that I was still blindfolded, but something felt different, something about my body. My throat was dry, my body ached, and I still couldn't move freely. My arms and legs were securely fastened, but not in the same position as before. Before! 'Before' suddenly came to my mind as I realized that it must be the next day.

I concentrated on feeling anything on me, but all I could feel were the ropes on my arms, the unmoving bonds on my feet, and something under me that I was now lying on. I tried to call out, seeing if anyone was within earshot. I managed a hoarse yell that hurt as it came out. "Ah, you're awake," came the same voice as the night before. "I hope that wasn't too much of a shock to waken you, but I didn't want to scare you."

I was already scared. Here I was, still in the captivity of this madman. What was next?

"I want you to know that I was able to get four more loads out of you before you passed out," he began to gloat. "At that point I decided to show some mercy and turn off the milking machine. I mean, you had no more cum stored up and, if I had left it running all night with your balls empty, well, the only thing that would have accomplished was causing irreparable damage to your penis. It would have been chewed raw and would no longer function. The doctors would have had no choice but to simply remove it. Oh, don't think I didn't consider doing that to you, I did, but like I said, I decided to show you some mercy, at least in that regard," he laughed evilly.

"Hlet mgh gho," I managed from behind the gag in my mouth.

"Let you go?" he mocked back at me. "Well, I thought about it last night after I got you in here, but I've decided that since you did so well, why not see how much fun we could have the entire weekend?"

"Gno! Gno!" I pleaded.

"I must, you see," he sank down to the bed and began to speak into my ear. "I was doing a favor for a friend, someone who wanted you to suffer for what you've done, but I don't think the one night of suffering you endured was anywhere near the embarrassment and suffering you have caused for her. No, the only way I can be sure you never treat any other girl in that way again, is by keeping you until Sunday."

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.

Straight True Experience: Poor Little Me

By: Unknown Author

I'm twenty four years old, considered good-looking, I work out regularly, and have a nice athletic build. I also have a small penis. Tiny would be the more appropriate word. In clinical terms, my penis is referred to as a micro penis. Erect I am only two inches long… or I guess I should say, two inches short.

I've always been quite shy in general, but especially around girls, and I never get laid. I've never even had my tiny dick in a pussy, yet. If I had a bigger dick, I'm sure I would have more confidence in trying to get girls into bed, despite my shyness. Don't misunderstand, I've been with a few girls, three to be exact, but I only got a hand job from two of them, and a blowjob from the third (and I came as soon as she started mouthing my tiny member.)

Those three encounters happened a while ago now, the last one taking place when I was nineteen. Needless to say, the only 'action' I've had since has been from my own hand, and, being a horny young guy, I jerk off a lot.

Jerking off to porn can get pretty boring after a while, when masturbation is your only sexual outlet, so what I liked to do on Friday and Saturday nights, was to go to a particular downtown bar that was always busy. I would hang out inside the bar and check out attractive women, and then go out to my car and play with myself as I imagined myself getting to have sex with any one of them. This was how I spent pretty much every weekend evening.

I know what you're probably thinking, and yeah, you're right, it is pretty pathetic. I told someone online once about what I do, and they called me a small-dicked loser. I don't care though. Jerking off is all I have, and so I love to play with myself in the dark parking lot as I fantasize about the attractive women, watch babes coming and going, and, sometimes, even seeing some lucky guy getting head in his car. It's certainly more fun than sitting at home jerking off over and over to porn videos.

Last weekend, though, something different happened, something that was quite exciting, something that I will always remember. That experience is what I'd like to share with you now.

Straight Fiction: Payback Is a Bitch!

By: Nessus & Ryan Michaels

Life's tough in the big city, especially as a junior executive in a global conglomerate. I was so far down the pecking order I couldn't even see the Vice President's office, let alone dream about being in it. That's why I had to get the promotion.

"It's two levels above me, Melanie," I said to my girlfriend as we lunched. "Maybe even three. I have to get it."

"Alan that would be great! Do you think you have a chance?" Her beautiful eyes glistened with excitement and her large breasts heaved under her white blouse.

I stared moodily out the window at the teeming city streets. Life had certainly changed since I'd moved here from Kansas six years ago to make my fortune in the Big Apple. "Yeah, I've got a chance. I figure it'll be between two of us."

"Only two? That's fantastic! You and who else?" Her plump lips glistened and I found myself fantasizing about my cock between them.

"Louise Tellat," I finally answered.

Melanie's face fell. "Oh. Louise?" Louise Tellat was the head of the department that Melanie worked in, and was Melanie's immediate manager.

"You don't have to take sides," I said sulkily. "I'll give it my best shot."

"Louise is pretty good," Melanie said with a worried tone in her voice. "Best boss I've worked for."

"So, you don't think I can beat her?"

"Well..."

"She's pretty strange, the way she dresses, that punky hair. Doesn't she live down near the Village with the weirdo set? God knows what she gets up to."

"She has artistic interests," Melanie said defensively. "But that doesn't mean she's not good at her job."

Angrily, I threw the credit card on the table. "I said you don't have to take sides, but it looks like you are, against me!"

"Alan, that's not the way it is. Can we talk about this?"

"There's nothing to talk about!"

We parted there and I angrily strode back to the office. It's always great when your girlfriend decides to support the opposition! I sat at my desk as night fell on the city, running through my strengths and weaknesses as they related to the promotion and my shot at getting it. In all honesty, I knew that Louise would beat me, so I had to exploit her weaknesses.

I sat bolt upright. Her main weakness was her fondness for the edge, the counter-culture look and all that goes with it. That, I could exploit with a few well-placed rumors. After all, I had a week to play. I laughed to myself as I rode the subway and scribbled notes.

The next day, I started placing the rumors.

A few days later, Melanie leaned across the table as we were having a coffee break. "Have you heard the terrible rumors about Louise?" she whispered.

"No," I said, acting surprised. "What rumors?"

Melanie looked around and then leaned closer. "Drugs. Alan, I don't believe it, but somebody saw her shooting up in the restroom."

"You're kidding me!?"

"No, I'm not," she said earnestly as I hid a smile.

**********

Melanie had to fly down to our Florida office, so she missed the memo announcing my promotion, but she phoned me as soon as she heard. Louise coldly congratulated me and, surrounded by people patting me on the back, agreed to join us for a Friday night celebratory drink.

I was surprised when Louise sat next to me at the bar and said, "Sorry if I seemed cold before. I was just disappointed. No hard feelings?" she asked extending her hand.

"No hard feelings," I agreed and shook her hand. I wasn't sure if she really meant it or was just doing it for appearances sake, but, shortly after that, and more than once, I felt her shoe graze my leg.

I finally looked down at her long legs extending from her short skirt and looked up to find her studying me. "Like what you see?" she smiled and I blushed, but, bolstered by alcohol and my success, pushed on.

"I sure do."

She giggled a bit and then turned back to talk to someone else.

Finally, it was time to go and Louise picked up her large clumsy bag and followed me to the door. "Share a cab?" she asked.

"Sure, why not," I answered.

She sat close to me in the back of the cab. Driven by the sight of her long legs and my hardening cock, I found myself asking her up for a drink, my apartment closer than hers, which meant the cabbie dropped me home first. We both knew what I really meant, and I was delighted when she agreed.

Louise insisted she make the drinks, and we kissed when she handed me mine. "Here's to your promotion, and to a great night ahead," she said, smiling knowingly at me as she drained her glass.

Hurriedly, I followed suit and reached for her. "No, no," she said, gently pushing me away. "You get into bed and I'll freshen up." She then disappeared into my bathroom, and I eagerly stripped all my clothes off and climbed into bed. Drowsily, I lay there, waiting for her to join me, and that was the last thing I remembered about that night.

I woke with a pain in my groin as the morning light streamed in. There was no sign of Louise, and I found myself staring at a metal contraption that encased my cock. My poor cock was threaded through a narrow metal tube that was bent over my balls and fastened with a shiny ring that looked like a handcuff, and encircled my balls next to my body.

I rushed to the toilet and found I had to sit to pee. Relief came as I emptied my bladder and the pain subsided. I tugged and tugged at the device but it wouldn't budge.

Panic set in and it was then that I saw the note on the dresser: When you realize you can't get it off, call me. A simple L was scrawled next to a cell phone number. Louise! That bitch!

Punching the number in, I waited impatiently for Louise to answer as I stood naked in my apartment, the silver contraption constraining my genitals.

"Hello?"

"Louise, you fucking bitch!"

Click! I stared at the phone in shock. She hung up! I took some deep breaths and attempted to calm down, then dialed the number again.

"Hello?"

"Louise," I said desperately. "Don't hang up!"

"Alan, baby," she sneered. "What a surprise. Like your little gift?"

"Why did you do this to me?" I cried.

Her voice grew cold. "Revenge, baby. Pure revenge! You fucked with me, Alan. Took my job! I was the best and you fucking know it. I put a small and a medium sized chastity belt in my bag. Just knew it had to be a small," she snickered.

"Louise," I pleaded. "It's not my fault they picked me instead of you."

"Bullshit! You and your fucking rumors!"

"Rumors?" I said innocently and the phone went dead once again. Gritting my teeth, I made the call again.

"Hello Alan," she snapped before I could speak. "You lie to me again and it stays on forever. Got it?"

I gulped. "Got it," I mumbled.

"Guess your morning hard-on felt a little different this morning," she laughed.

"Louise, how do I get it off?" I begged.

"You don't!" she snapped. "I'm the only one that can take it off, and I don't feel like it yet. I'm still pissed at you."

"How long?" I asked brokenly.

"Hmm, I don't know. Maybe a week… a month."

"A month!" I exclaimed. "What do I tell Melanie?"

"Melanie? Yeah, guess I forgot about her." She laughed again and then said, "Let's just hope we can do a deal before she returns from Florida."

"Deal?" I quickly asked. "What kind of deal?"

Louise laughed again. "Let's talk on Monday. Have a great weekend, Alan." The line went dead and I stared at the metal tube that encased my cock. Suddenly, I realized the longest I'd ever gone without cumming was two or three days and I felt frightened that somebody had that much control over me. I had to get this thing off of me!

All Male Fiction: The J.O.C.K. Club (Part 6)

By: MrCreamJeans

Read Part 5 | Read Part 1

Kenny felt a little stupid. He was dressing for the Sadie Hawkins dance. A girl named Michelle had asked him to go, and he had said yes. The "look" was supposed to be sort of hillbilly, something akin to the old Li'l Abner comics. Kenny's mom was getting into this much more than Kenny. She had rummaged through some old clothes in the basement, did some alterations, and the result was now staring back at Kenny in the mirror.

He was wearing an old, faded, plaid flannel shirt that belonged to his dad which was too big on him. His jeans, on the other hand, were way too small. They were a pair he had outgrown a year ago. His mom had sewn patches on the knees and frayed the high-water cuffs to give them a worn-out look. She let out the waist so he could close them, but that crotch! His cock and balls were tightly packed under the unyielding denim, a sensation that he was definitely not accustomed to. He'd had a hell of a time getting his boxer shorts down the pant legs, too, and he was sure they'd be riding up all night.

Kenny's mom called through the door, "Are you decent?"

"Yeah," Kenny moaned.

His mom came through the door and squealed, "Oh, you look adorable!" Then she walked over to him saying, "And I have the perfect finishing touch. But you'll have to tuck your shirt in."

"Huh?" Kenny asked, somewhat panicked. He was counting on that oversized shirt to help conceal his bulging crotch.

"It's a belt!" his mom pronounced gleefully as she held up a length of smooth rope.

Kenny knew there was no point in arguing about this, so he rolled his eyes and turned his back toward his mother while he undid his pants and jammed the shirt tail down into his already overstuffed jeans. He then took the rope and threaded it through the belt loops, then tied a square knot at the front.

"Perfect!" his mom exclaimed. "You look great!" she said and then wandered off to let him finish getting ready.

Kenny looked at himself in the mirror. It was way more embarrassing than before. In addition to the obvious bulge of his cock and balls, the bulky flannel shirt was making even more unsightly bulges in his skin-tight jeans. He noted that he could even see the lines on his legs where his boxers ended. His pants were a bulging, lumpy mess.

He thought quickly. One thing he thought would help would be to just take off his boxers, so he quickly undid the rope, shucked his jeans and boxers, and pulled his jeans back on. Unfortunately, his cock saw the brief release from its imprisonment as an opportunity to stretch! By the time he hurriedly got his jeans up his thighs, his cock was already at half-mast and was swelling rapidly. He jammed his cock down under his balls, holding it in place with the crotch seam of his old jeans. Mercifully, the swelling stopped.

Grumbling to himself about the damn belt, Kenny began tucking in the shirt tail, this time taking more care to keep the fabric from bunching up. Finally, he zipped his jeans, put on his rope belt, and turned once again to the mirror. This was a little more acceptable. His cock bulge was now directly behind the zipper, so there was only a gentle swelling there. He hoped and prayed that he wouldn't pop a full-fledged boner in those revealing jeans, but there was nothing he could do about it now, he had to go or he'd be late. Kenny threw on his sneakers and ran down the stairs.

As he was on his way to pick up Michelle, Kenny suddenly realized that his cock had shifted from his crotch seam down his right leg. He was used to it being on the left. Of course, any unfamiliar sensation is enough to start a teen guy's prick stiffening. Sure enough, Kenny felt the tingling that signaled the start of a boner. He didn't know what to do, though. He couldn't reach down and rub one out, that would make a mess that he couldn't hide, but he also couldn't walk up to Michelle's door with a hard-on jutting down his thigh.

Remembering that pushing his cock down earlier kept it from getting fully hard, he decided to clamp his legs together and let the tight jeans do the work. Then he thought about the ugliest woman he could think of, the one who worked at the school cafeteria with the hairy mole on her cheek. It did the trick. By the time he got to Michelle's house, his cock was soft enough that he could make the needed right-to-left adjustment as he walked to the door.

Michelle came out wearing a pink gingham dress that fit her waist and ample breasts as if she had been poured into it. Kenny grinned and said, "I like your dress."

"Thanks," she replied. She scanned Kenny's Sadie Hawkins outfit as they began walking to the car. "I like your jeans, too."

Kenny just blushed.

When they entered the gym, the first thing Kenny noticed was that the lights were quite a bit brighter than the regular "sock-hop" dances he was used to. The gym was decorated with hay bales, wagon wheels, and other "country" decorations. The decorations didn't matter to Kenny; he had been hoping it would be dark so his embarrassing bulge couldn't be seen.

Kenny wilted visibly when he saw Rod and Jon headed his way. Jon was already staring intently at Kenny's jeans, examining every inch of his friend's cock bulge.

"Hey, Kenny," Rod called out as they approached.

"Hey guys," Kenny responded, knowing it was pointless to try to hide his tight pants and obvious bulge from these two.

"Nice outfit," Jon kidded.

"Isn't it cute?" Michelle piped up. "I think it's sexy."

"Ooooo," both guys jeered.

"Yeah, yeah..." Kenny said, blushing furiously. He decided to turn the tables on them. "So, you guys got dates?" he asked, knowing full well they didn't.

Rod didn't miss a beat. "Nah, but I think we'll be able to hook up here," he said, knowing that wasn't really going to happen.

Michelle grabbed Kenny's hand and started dragging him to the dance floor. "Let's dance!" she said.

"See you guys," Kenny called as he disappeared into the crowd.

Concentrating on the new moves he practiced in his bedroom, he worked on impressing Michelle with his dancing ability. Then came a slow dance, and Michelle plastered herself against Kenny and they both began swaying to the music. The warmth of her body radiated through Kenny's clothes, and he sensed right away that she was putting extra pressure on his groin. It felt really great, so he returned the pressure.

"Mmm," she purred in his ear as she felt his cock growing down his leg.

Kenny couldn't believe how great it felt to be freeballing and humping his cock against a hot girl. His cock twitched and he heard her moan, so he made it twitch again, blissfully unaware of what was to come.

When the song ended and a new, fast piece started, Michelle asked Kenny, "You want to keep dancing?" Before he could answer she continued, "Or do you wanna go sit on the bleachers and make out?"

"Make out," Kenny gulped his reply.

When she turned around, Kenny hugged her from behind, and that's the way they walked over to the bleachers.

When they sat down, Michelle kind of giggled. "You know, everybody knows what it means when a guy walks behind a girl like that. All my girlfriends talk about how they can feel the guy's boner on their asses and stuff. You shouldn't be embarrassed." Then, lowering her voice, she added, "You really have a nice cock."

When Kenny heard that, his cock jumped under the tight confines of his old jeans. To his horror, he felt a drop of pre-cum escape from the tip. He knew that with no underwear it would soak through the faded denim right away, but it seemed like there was nothing he could do about it except try to calm down.

Michelle wasn't about to let that happen. She leaned over and planted a kiss on him. The kiss kept going and soon they were dueling with their tongues.

Kenny was exhilarated. He had been to several dances and always envied the couples he'd seen making out on the bleachers. Now he was part of that scene for the first time. He wrapped his arms around her and savored her taste and feel. The only trouble was that his dick seemed like it was getting even harder. He felt yet another drop of pre-cum leaking from his inflamed cock. He was sure there'd be a wet spot by now.

Several minutes and several drops of cock-juice later, Michelle suddenly backed away and announced, "Ooh! I love this song! Let's dance."

Before he could think, Kenny was being dragged onto the dance floor, boner bulge and all. Michelle started moving to the music while poor Kenny kind of hobbled through some steps, his movement hindered by the unyielding hardness in his jeans. He couldn't help taking a quick look to see how bad things were down there. It was the most embarrassing sight he could imagine – even more embarrassing than having to jack off in front of the J.O.C.K. club. Every detail of his cock shaft and head were visible through the tight faded denim, and there was a quarter-sized wet spot at the tip. When he looked back up, Michelle was staring straight at his pants. He blushed. She smiled.

By the time that song was over, his cock had softened to about half-mast, and at the end of the next song, he was back to normal (except for the pecker tracks on his thigh).

"I wanna sit down. Is that ok?" Michelle said.

Kenny couldn't deny her anything, so off they headed toward the bleachers. After they sat down, Michelle asked, "Um, can I ask you something personal?"

"Sure."

"Um, are you wearing any underwear?" she asked, fairly certain that the answer was no.

Kenny blushed once again. "No," he admitted. "My mom made me wear these stupid tight jeans and there wasn't really room for my boxers."

"Oh, I think your jeans are sexy," Michelle replied, as she traced her fingertips over his thigh. "I really like them a lot. But I think you better be careful, Kenny. It really shows when you get turned on, if you know what I mean." Her fingertips moved in small circles, edging closer and closer to his growing member.

Kenny couldn't believe such a cute girl would be so interested in his cock. Once again his cock jumped, and another drop of slimy liquid was ejected into his jeans. A spot appeared immediately.

Noticing it too, Michelle giggled and said, "Maybe you should cool off. Would you get me something to drink?"

"Umm..." Kenny said, staring at his obscenely bulging and spotted crotch.

"Oh, you guys worry so much about that stuff. Nobody cares! Just put your hands in your pockets or something," she said.

Kenny knew that suggestion was going to be both unhelpful and impossible in these tight jeans. So he gamely stood up and headed toward the concession stand, his dripping boner rubbing against his thigh and jeans with every step. And just his luck, who was standing by the counter but Rod and Jon.

"Whoa! Du-u-ude!" Rod laughed. "What's Michelle been doing to you?"

Kenny decided to turn his embarrassing situation to his advantage. "She's totally hot. All she wants to do is make out and rub my cock." He saw Jon's eyes widen, so he continued, "She just can't get enough of me, man. She said later she's gonna suck me off."

"Right," Rod said with a disbelieving edge to his voice. "I bet you won't even get it out of your pants."

"We'll see, dude," Kenny replied with mock confidence. "I gotta get her something to drink. See you guys later."

By the time he got the drinks and returned, his cock had once again returned to a less obvious state, but not before it left several more little wet spots all over the front of his jeans.

"You know what I did for you?" Michelle asked as they were finishing their drinks, her hand moving to his thigh.

"No, what?" Kenny gulped.

"I'm not wearing any panties," she cooed. She saw his cock lurch under his jeans. "Does that turn you on?"

"Oh yeah! You're so hot, Mich *mmbblllll*" He was interrupted by his date starting to kiss him again. There was no delay this time. The tongues were in play from the start. Soon her hand was over the head of his dick, teasing the sensitive ridge.

Meanwhile, Rod and Jon had wandered over by the bleachers. Jon stopped in his tracks.

"Wait. Rod, check this out. Kenny's totally making out with Michelle," he said.

"Oh man! They're really into it!" Rod exclaimed.

"Let's go back over here. I wanna watch this for a while," Jon said.

"I'm right with you!"

The boys moved into one of the few shadowy areas of the gym. They had a perfect view of Kenny and Michelle.

"Is she jacking him off?" Rod asked.

"I think she's rubbing his cock, but it's hard to tell. Oh man, this is so hot!" Jon replied, his hand sneaking into his pocket to stroke his hardening member.

Rod noticed his buddy's movement and snickered. "Just can't help yourself, can you?"

Jon grinned sheepishly. "Can you imagine if she jerked him off all the way?"

"Mmm, I wonder if he's wearing boxers?" Rod said, knowing the effect it would have on his jack-off buddy.

All Male Fiction: Fuck Stop

By: Roland G & Ryan Michaels

Ryan's sexual experience was limited: until recently he had been just another horny teenager, fantasizing constantly, and constantly masturbating. The erotic tensions contained in his powerfully developed young body usually shot out into his hand. But he wasn't a virgin.

His sex life had begun conventionally enough with a girl, a tramp who hung out with the athletes at the local high school and who had gone to bed with almost all of them at one time or another — and in various combinations.  Ryan had made a name for himself on the football team during his first year of high school so that even if he'd been unattractive, the girls would have flung themselves at him.

His first slut threw herself at him, indeed, one night in the bed of his pickup truck. He lost his cherry to her, (her cherry had vanished long before she spread her legs for Ryan) when he plunged his inexperienced dick in and out of her insatiable cunt until he came about thirty seconds later.

Several similar experiences, however, made it clear to Ryan that he really wasn't getting much out of fucking pussy, especially with fucking those sluts. At least, it didn't seem so wonderful to him, despite the fuss all his fellow jocks made about banging pussy. Oh, he lasted longer than he did that first time, but, to Ryan, it was just a way to get his rocks off — nothing more. He sometimes thought he preferred pumping his own cock over pumping his dick in and out of a slut's snatch.

Shortly after his eighteenth birthday he and some friends had gone into town, gotten their signals crossed, and the upshot was that Ryan had been left behind without a cent in his pockets. It was late at night and all he could do was hit the streets and try to hitch a ride back to the suburbs. Of course, like anyone, he knew that hitchhiking could be dangerous, but he was stranded and desperate. Besides, he was an athletic guy, a football player, and felt he could take care of himself.

After a long wait, Ryan was surprised to see a big rig slow down and then stop. The driver spoke through the open passenger window. "Where're you headed?"

Ryan told the man where he lived.

"I can drop you off there without going too far out of my way," the trucker said as he leaned over and opened the passenger door. "Hop in."

"Thanks," Ryan said as he gratefully climbed up to the cab and got in, settling on the cold leather seat beside the driver, who was a thick-set, muscular type of about thirty-five. He had a strong jaw, a tanned face, blue-gray eyes, and brown hair. He wore jeans — every bit as faded and tight fitting as Ryan's own — and a polo shirt, which wasn't exactly standard truck driver's attire, but which showed off his heavy chest and bulging biceps.

"Frank's the name," he volunteered.

"I'm Ryan."

"Kind of late for you to be out, isn't it kid?"

"I lost my ride home," Ryan explained.

They chatted for some time as the truck sped through the quiet, dark night. Then Frank said, "Look what I bought myself today." He pulled a thin brown paper bag out from under the seat and handed it to Ryan.

Ryan opened it automatically and pulled out the magazine he found inside. He had never seen anything quite like the unblushingly pornographic photographs the magazine contained. This was the seventies, long before the Internet. Such materials were not readily available to someone Ryan's age.

Each photo showed a man and a woman fucking in various positions. Then, several pages were devoted to a step-by-step photo essay showing the woman sucking the guy's cock. The final pictures showed him shooting his load, with cum blasting all over her face and dribbling down her panting, eager lips.

 
"Holy shit," Ryan muttered. "This is pretty hot stuff." He felt his dick beginning to harden inside his tight jeans as he examined the cocksucking sequence more closely the second time. He easily imagined himself in the man's place, with those willing lips wrapped snugly around his swelling cock.

"Have a drink," Frank offered, passing a bottle of bourbon to Ryan, who swallowed a big mouthful and passed it back. The driver eagerly closed his lips around the neck of the bottle and tipped it up. "That bitch looks like she knows how to give good head," he commented lewdly. "Hey, you ever had a blowjob?"

"Well… no," Ryan admitted. He didn't see any point in trying to impress Frank by lying about it. The various girls he had made it with, well those experiences were far from romantic. There had never been any blowjobs, hand jobs or even kissing. It was all about some slut who wanted nothing more than a quick fuck from a stiff dick.

"Yeah? That's hard to believe, a good-looking young guy like you. Some guys like a good suck-off better than pussy, you know. You feel somebody's smooth lips, nice and warm and wet, right down over your hard prick. Then you feel a tongue dig into the really sensitive spots, licking away, and, oh man! And once a cock slips deep down a tight hot throat, once a cock gets sucked on like there's no tomorrow, then shit, kid, I'm telling you there just ain't nothing like it in the world!"

"Sounds amazing!" Ryan replied, his cock now rock hard in his jeans.

Ryan saw Frank glance at his crotch. He felt embarrassed, his hard-on more than obvious, and then a small smile crept across Frank's face and he said, "So, kid, you want to see how it feels?"

Ryan knew he should get out of the truck, but he sat still and said nothing. Conflicting emotions welled up within him, and he quivered with excitement and nervousness at the prospect of letting Frank blow him. His dick pressed even harder against his jeans. He felt the truck make a turn; they were going off onto a dark side road. Then he felt a big, calloused hand push between his legs and cup itself nonchalantly around his meat. Frank began to exert a steady, confident pressure, gently kneading the hot meat imprisoned beneath the buttons of Ryan's fly.

"You like that, don't you?" Frank whispered heatedly, his breath rasping over the edges of his teeth. "I can tell you like it. Jesus, that's a big goddamned rod you've got inside those jeans. Spread your legs a little, let me get at it."

His hand felt so good and Ryan just opened his legs some more without stopping to think about it.

"That's right. I'm going to keep working your big hot dick, and your balls too until you can't stand it anymore. You're going to have to ram it down my throat. I won't hurt you, don't be nervous. In fact, Ryan, you're going to enjoy every second of this."

The truck rolled to a stop in the shadow of a huge tree at the edge of a deserted field.  Ryan remained motionless, wanting it and yet not wanting it, afraid but almost helpless with desire.

The hand so busy between his legs now climbed up to Ryan's belt buckle and began to loosen it. Ryan felt the hand undo the buttons of his jeans, one by one, spreading open his fly. He dared not look down. Then the fingers, alive and warm inside his pants, caressed and fondled his balls, then pulled out his hard cock.

Ryan looked down. His dick stood straight out from his jeans. Frank's big warm hand was wrapped around the lower part of it, squeezing the shaft with gentle firmness.

"You've got a really big one," Frank whispered. "There are damned few cocks like this baby around! You're not cut, either. Mint condition, I like that. Shit, look at all that foreskin, and that big fat head peeking through. Fuck man, I can't wait to taste you, Ryan!"

The trucker lowered his head into Ryan's lap. Ryan felt his dick, the shaft of which was still tightly clasped in the trucker's hand, being captured by something warm, wet, and very slippery. He gasped as the trucker's head began to move up and down. He had never dreamed anything could feel so fucking good on his cock! And Frank went on and on, as though he would be perfectly delighted to suck on Ryan's cock all night.

Hell, yes, Ryan thought, it did beat pussy — that hot, wet, tight, hard-moving mouth around his cock, like a whirlpool sucking in the body of a drowning man.

"Suck me!" Ryan finally dared to moan. "Suck my cock!"

His outburst seemed to inspire his cocksucker to even greater urgency. Within seconds, the pleasure became so intense it was unbearable. Ryan arched upward off the seat with all his strength, fucked his meat into the trucker's mouth, ramming it brutally down the man's engorged throat. Frank only ate it harder and faster, more eagerly. Suddenly Ryan groaned, fought back a shout, and fired his first thick wad of cream into the trucker's mouth. Massive wads of sperm followed one another, bursting from Ryan's arching, trembling body.

When it was all over, Ryan sank back against the leather seat, breathing hard. Frank curved his lips slowly up around Ryan's cock shaft and then pulled off it completely. He pulled Ryan's foreskin back as far as he could and licked the exposed, sensitive knob with his tongue, causing Ryan to shudder, before he finally sat back in his driver's seat.

"Di-did you swallow that stuff?" Ryan asked him in amazement.

"Sure! Are you that new to this scene?"

Ryan nodded.

"I remember the first time I got a knob job," Frank laughed.

As the trucker reminisced, Ryan relaxed and drank more whiskey when Frank offered it. Ryan felt ambivalent about taking part in a homosexual act, even as a passive recipient of oral gratification. The booze, however, helped him to overcome his shyness. And so, strangely enough, did the odor in the truck cab — the maleness of two aroused bodies, of crotch, jeans, sweat, cum, bourbon.

"Hold the bottle for me," Frank said.

Ryan took the bottle and watched as the trucker opened his fly and took out his cock. It wasn't remarkably long, but it was thick and getting thicker as the trucker worked it with his hand.

As it grew completely hard, Frank held it up like a mast and said, "Now, this baby has been around some. I like to suck, you know, feel all that hot cum blasting into my mouth and down my throat. But I like to get mine sucked off, too. How about it, kid? Think you could handle it?"

"I-I've never done it," Ryan said, staring at the trucker's hard dick staring back up at him, with an odd mixture of revulsion and lust.

"I'll tell you what, just put your hand around it. Just like it was a nice hot piece of pipe."

Ryan reached over and did it.

There, yeah, that feels good! Now, give it a little squeeze."

Ryan gave the cock a squeeze.

"Shit, that's great. Come on, Ryan. You're looking at it. You're feeling it. It looks good, right? And it feels good? Well? Come on. Go down on it, just a little."

Ryan looked down at the throbbing cock he was holding in his hand. He knew he shouldn't do it; he didn't want to become a cocksucker, but it was so tempting, and he let himself bend down to the trucker's lap and slowly let the truck driver's stiff meat slide into his mouth.

The cock seemed to swell even larger once it was between Ryan's lips. He felt that what he was doing was awful, criminal, immoral… but he knew, at the same time, that it was the right thing for him to be doing. Somehow, he was destined to have this hard cock in his mouth.

As he tried to suck it, it climbed deeper into his mouth, toward his throat. It tasted pungent. Ryan sat up again, gasping, shuddering. "I can't do it. I'm afraid I'll puke."

"That's okay, kid. Will you beat me off?"

Ryan still had the moist prick in his hand. He began to move his hand up and down on the thick piece of meat, smearing his saliva over it. Feeling horny again, he began to beat his own hard rod with his other hand.

"Yeah! Oh, yeah," the trucker sighed. "Harder, kid, harder. Yeah! Fuck! Flog that dick! Beat that mother fucker! Ahh shit, I'm cumming!"

A white blob of cream leaped upward and fell onto Ryan's pumping hand, followed by the thick cum which poured forth from the tip of the trucker's dick. Ryan beat his own meat more urgently, and in a few moments, he erupted a second load into his own hand. The heavy, funky man odor of jism filled the truck cab. Ryan was almost sickened by it but he also felt strangely relieved and calm.

Soon they were rolling again, and when Ryan got out of the truck a block from his house, the trucker leaned over toward him and said, "Hey, Ryan. You know the Genesee Truck Stop, near where I picked you up?"

"Sure." Ryan and his buddies had eaten at the combined gas station and diner several times; it was a popular hangout.

"I'll be there next Friday. Meet me in the parking lot, say around ten o'clock, and I'll show you where there's some real action; the places and the people who know what it's all about. We'll have ourselves a ball."

"I don't know. Maybe."

"You'll be there. Once a guy gets a taste of dick he always wants more. I'll be waiting," the trucker said and then he drove off.

**********

Throughout the following week, Ryan thought about it. His mood alternated between desire and disgust, between fear and fascination. And when Friday night rolled around, he got a ride into town and made his way to the truck stop, as he had known all along he would, as Frank knew he would.