All Male True Experience: Afternoon Delight

By: chicagobasil

One afternoon I was pretty horny - which wasn't that odd, since I'm horny every day - so I decided to drive over to the Forest Preserve to see if there were any hot guys worth checking out, and to possibly have some fun with.

As I pulled into the lot, there was only one other vehicle there, a red jeep. I drove through the lot slowly, glancing at the jeep as I neared it. Inside was a guy, dressed in a shirt and tie, and he was pretty hot from what I could tell. He was backed in, so I pulled my car in right next to his so I could check him out better in my driver's side mirror.

As I sat next to him, trying to casually check him out, I could tell by the very familiar movement his arm was making that he was stroking his cock. I couldn't believe it; what luck! I started my car, put it in reverse and backed my car up until my driver's side door was in line with his. After throwing it into Park, I shut off the car and pulled my own cock out and started doing the same.

Straight Fiction: Fire in the Hole!

By: English Bob & Ryan Michaels

While my wife and I were indulging in our favorite pastime, it was Janet that first caught scent of the smoke, while my head was buried between her thighs. At first I told her it was probably just a neighbor with a fire going in their fireplace, and the smell of smoke from the chimney was just coming through the open window. But, when I went back to eating her pussy, the smell of smoke soon became stronger, and it became quite obvious that the smoke was coming from inside our house, and quickly apparent that Janet's orgasm would have to be postponed!

Upon making our way downstairs to investigate, we found there was a fire in our kitchen. Foolishly, we didn't have a fire extinguisher, or even a hose that would reach the kitchen, and after trying unsuccessfully to put it out with pots of water, we made a call to 911. Both my wife and I then exited the house and were waiting on the front lawn in our night-clothes when the fire department arrived.

We watched the firefighters work quickly, and heard the occasional snigger and giggle when they saw my wife in her almost see-through nightie. The reason for their mirth was that Janet is not a petite woman. She's not fat, but just tall and well built, and the flimsy nightie strained to hold her 38 Double-D breasts in check. Obviously, since we were having sex at the time, we had been naked, and it was the first item of clothing that came to hand when we realized that there was a problem in the house.

I felt Janet shiver as the fire chief walked past us and threw her a sly grin. The man was big, and black, the muscles in his forearms bulging with rippling sinew. I guessed that it wasn't the night air that caused Janet's shiver, and that suspicion was confirmed as she whispered, "Damn! Now that's one hot looking man!"

I laughed. My wife is a hot little number herself at the best of times, but dragged away from having her pussy eaten moments before climax, her cunt must have been burning hotter than our kitchen! "I'll bet he's not exactly small either," I teased as I put my arm around her shoulder. "And, it looks to me like he got a bit aroused below the belt when he was checking out your tits," I added.

"Oh, John, don't! I'm still so horny! Do you think we'll be able to go back in soon? I need to resume where we left off!"

I looked over towards the door. The small fire was obviously out now, and what little smoke was left drifted in lazy curls and hung in the still night air. "I don't think it will be too long now, honey," I said. "But I'm not sure we will be able to sleep here tonight."

"Who said anything about sleeping," Janet replied with a grin.

I smiled to myself. A plan was beginning to formulate in my head.

It needs to be mentioned at this point that Janet has never exactly been the faithful type. Over the years of our marriage - and of course before - she had seen more cock than I care to remember, and I loved watching her nearly as much as she enjoyed doing it! She was a complete slut, and she'd done it all - sometimes with more than one man at a time. But the one thing that she absolutely adored, craved really, was black cock, especially big, thick black cock!

I looked back up to the house; two young firefighters were walking out with smiles indicating a job well done. The fire chief followed behind them, and then crossed the lawn towards us.

"All done now, Mr. McDowell," his voice drawled in the local dialect. "Follow me and I'll show you where it started."

Janet and I obediently followed the large man into our house. From the back he looked even bigger, and I could see the expression of lust on Janet's face as she stared at his muscular looking butt.

"You folks were lucky," the chief said once we were inside the kitchen. "Fortunately, there wasn't too much damage, and the fire didn't spread to the rest of the house. It started down here in the garbage," he said pointing. "Probably a cigarette or something; don't think there's any real need to call in the investigation team."

The chief was doing his job, but his eyes seemed to be preoccupied staring at Janet's chest, and his crotch seemed to be expanding even more than when I'd noticed his arousal around my wife, earlier.

"Thanks chief," I said, breaking a moment of awkward silence. "It could have been much worse if you guys hadn't gotten here so quickly and put it out so fast. Is there any way we can repay you for saving our home?"

"Thanks Mr. McDowell, but we're just doing our job. We're not allowed to take any kind of financial reward or gifts. It's against regulations."

"Oh, well that's too bad," I said. "May I ask you a question?"

The chief nodded.

"Well, to be blunt, when the fire broke out, my wife and I were having sex, and, well, being interrupted left her pretty horny, so we were just wondering if..."

"Oh, no worries," the chief said, smiling and trying to hold back a chuckle. "The smell might bother you a bit, but your house is safe for you to stay here, so I'll just be on my way and let you two get back to what you were doing," the chief concluded, misunderstanding what I was getting at, and then started to walk away to leave.

But, he stopped dead in his tracks when I continued on to finish what I had wanted to say. "Oh, that's good to know, but what I was going to say was, it's too bad your regulations don't allow people to show their appreciation because, seeing as how it looks like it was my wife's cigarette that caused you all this work, I just thought it should be her that thanks you properly, by, I don't know, giving you some head or something? It wouldn't really be a gift, just a big thank you, but if that's against the rules…"

"You're pulling my leg, right?" he said interrupting as he turned around to face us.

"Not at all," I grinned. "I told you, my wife was left so horny when we had to stop what we were doing, and she's even hornier now, because, well, she really has a thing for black guys."

"Black guys," he said, obviously in a bit of shock over all that was being said to him.

"Yes," I smiled. "To be blunt, once again, chief, she really has a thing for black cock."

"You're really being serious, I mean, about what you said she'd do for me?" he asked in disbelief.

"Totally serious," I said. "I noticed before I asked that you seemed aroused when looking at my wife, and that you aren't wearing a wedding ring, but if you have a girlfriend, or it goes against the regulations, we understand."

"No girlfriend," he said still sounding like he was in total disbelief.

"Great, so how about it? Just say the word and my beautiful wife will thank the hell out of you!"

The question hung in the air like a thick smog. For a moment there was only silence while the chief seemed to try to gather his thoughts. Suddenly his face seemed to relax and he said, "Well, I have to admit, seeing your old lady dressed like that did cause a stir or two in my pants, and regulations only state we can't accept money or gifts. Thank yous are not only allowed, but appreciated, so I don't think a 'thank you' from your wife breaks any official rules." His face broke out into a grin and then he continued, "So, if you are being serious, I'd love to have her suck my dick! It'd have to be quick though, with my men outside, but I don't mind quick as long as I can play with those big tits of hers while she does it!"

I looked over at Janet for her reaction. Her brown eyes smoldered with barely suppressed excitement, and she nodded her agreement. "Okay then, honey, you heard what the man said, get your tits out!"

Janet smiled coyly at me and then began slipping her nightie from her shoulders. She worked slowly as both the chief and I watched her intently, allowing her fingers to lightly touch the flesh of her tits as eventually the nightie fell below her breasts.

"Jeez, man," the chief whistled appreciatively. "That's one fine pair of tits! Come here baby, let's have a feel!"

I watched my wife's heavy orbs sway back and forth as she padded her way towards the chief. Her eyes closed in an expression of pure lust as his large hands reached out and cupped her tits, the black of his skin contrasting acutely with Janet's pale complexion. She moaned out loud as his fingers closed on her hardening nipples and he squeezed them, gently at first, and then a little more urgently.

Seeing that Janet was getting into having her tits played with, and seeing that the chief was getting into it as well, I spoke up and said to Janet, "Don't forget, you still have a thank you to give."

Janet's eyes opened immediately, she grinned at me, and then her hand dropped to the crotch of the chief's pants. He moaned slightly as she squeezed the impressive bulge that was outlined there. Slowly, she manipulated the stiff zipper and eventually lowered it.

"Mmm, no underwear," she murmured as her hand found its way inside, speaking for the first time since this all began.

"No, too hot for underwear in this job," the chief moaned as Janet moved her hand around inside his pants while he continued to caress her pendulous breasts.

And then I saw it. Janet had eased the chief's thick tool from the confines of his pants and was gently stroking the length of his shaft while he groaned happily. It was an impressive sight: at least nine inches of fat, throbbing black meat. Having watched her on several occasions with a black guy, I can say that not all black men are hugely endowed, but the chief certainly fit the stereotype! The wide purple head glistened with beads of pre-cum as Janet's finger gently massaged the clear fluid all around his cockhead.

The chief's hands fell from my wife's breasts as Janet moved herself onto her knees and undid the button on his pants and pulled them down to his ankles. She then quickly guided his large weapon towards her mouth. Inch by inch, his length slipped into it until I could see the outline of his cockhead bulging at the entrance to her throat. With a slight movement of her head, Janet took a deep breath and literally forced herself down onto him. The chief moaned loudly, bucking his hips up and sending the final inches of his tool into my wife's throat.

It was a wonderfully exciting sight for me, and I could feel my own cock throbbing under my robe. However, rather than opening my robe and going to town on my own dick, I had other ideas.

Tearing myself away from the deep-throat action that was being displayed in front of me, I quickly walked to the front door, stepped outside and headed towards the two firemen who were dealing with putting away the fire hose and such. I figured they did as much work as the chief and deserved a proper thank you as well, not to mention the fact that I really wanted to see all three of them thanking her. So, when I had reached the fire truck, I said, "Hey guys, the chief asked me to come out and send you two inside."

There was some inaudible grumblings from both, followed by a sigh, but no questions, just compliance to the supposed order from the chief as the two young firemen started to head up the walkway to the house, with me following behind them.

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: Head in the Clouds

By: Unknown Author & Ryan Michaels

It had been a long, horny five weeks. It was the summer of '95, and I had just toured twenty European cities with two of my straight college buddies. My two friends knew that I was gay, and didn't give a shit, but on this trip, I had promised that I would not drift off by myself looking for some hot European cock. They didn't want me wandering through bars or streets by myself, for safety reasons, being a foreign visitor in a foreign land. Plus, we had a pretty strict itinerary, and if I spent the night with a guy and didn't get back on time in the morning, I could mess up our whole trip.

Of course, it was ok for them to go out and look for some pussy together, the difference being that they were both together, and, if they got lucky, they could bring the girl (or girls) back to our hotel room for a bit of fun. Naturally, my two straight buddies didn't want to go to a gay bar with me and definitely didn't want to see me having sex with another guy in our room. It wasn't really fair, but I kinda understood.

I was hoping that I might at least bump into and be able to hook up with one good-looking gay tourist who happened to be staying at any of the motels we used during our travels, but Lady Luck hadn't seen fit to shine her luck down on me at all.

I did of course masturbate during those five weeks, in the shower, and I guessed that my buddies did as well - they hadn't actually scored with any women during our trip - but I didn't get to do it every day like I got to do back home. The reason I didn't get to do it every day was that I had always had a problem getting off quickly in the shower. I think it might have something to do with the heat and steam. All I knew was that it took me a lot longer to 'get there' in the shower, and with my buddies always rushing me in the mornings so we wouldn't miss out on what was on our itinerary, our busy schedule didn't always allow me to take the time I needed.

In fact, I hadn't had the chance to jerk off even once over the past week! I was way past due to shoot a load and was very seriously contemplating making a trip to the restroom on the plane ride home to pump a load out of my cock. But needing to shoot my load was only half of it. While jerking off always felt good, it didn't give me the same feeling or level of satisfaction as sex; that was what I had a more desperate need for, even more than simply cumming, and I hadn't had any on this trip.

So, needless to say, by the end of these five weeks I was extremely horny and anxious to get back to my familiar gay Chicago scene. Never did I think that I would get the sexual relief I so desperately needed while flying through the clouds!

It all started when our plane landed at Washington D.C.'s Dulles Airport from Brussels, and we had to switch planes to connect us to O'Hare. Our new plane was one of United's new 777s. These 777s were the first fully computerized commercial planes and had been designed with the passengers' comfort in mind - roomier seating, personal TV screens at every seat, three or four movie channels, dozens of other TV channels (sports, news, sitcoms, etc.), twenty channels of CD-quality audio selections; all at the control of a few buttons located on the armrest. This was the first week that United had these 777s in the air, and the flight attendants informed us that they had a special technician on board to troubleshoot any problems we may have with our entertainment systems.

A few minutes after takeoff, the entertainment systems were turned on. My buddies by the window were watching sports, the attractive girl in front of them was watching a gymnastics competition, and the little boy behind them was singing Disney songs from one of the audio channels. But when I switched mine on, all I could get was the music channels; my TV screen was not working. Just my luck!

As one of the flight attendants passed by, I informed her of the situation, and she made a mental note of my row and seat number and told me she would let the technician on board know so that he could look into it.

Several minutes went by, and still, my screen wasn't working. I glanced up the aisle, getting impatient, and noticed a man in a United Airlines uniform walking along the aisle looking at the row numbers.

When he got to my row, he stopped, asking, "Are you having problems with your screen, sir?"

"Yes, I am. I can get music, but I can't get any TV channels at all," I answered, casually drinking him in. He was really good-looking, young, maybe twenty-four, about six-foot tall, with stylish short brown hair, and in great shape. Normally, I would have enjoyed the eye candy, but right now, the sight of a hot man was the last thing I needed to see in my condition!

"Ok, let me have a look," he said, and then his right arm stretched out, resting on the storage cabin above. Then he leaned forward and moved his left hand to the armrest buttons to see if he could turn on my screen.

As he did so, his fingertips ever so slightly grazed my leg. His light touch on my vulnerable, I-haven't-had-it-in-five-weeks body felt so good, and a tingling sensation went right through me, and straight to my neglected dick.

 
In his position, his crotch was perfectly aligned with my field of sight, and I casually looked at it as I pretended to be watching him fiddle with the armrest buttons. His uniform pants tapered in at his crotch, leaving the fabric to hug and accentuate his package, and it was a very nice-looking bulge, one that I just wanted to reach out and grab.

"Hmm," he said after a few moments of trying to fix my TV, unable to get it turned on, either. The same could not be said for me! My dick was slowly on the rise, but uncomfortably so, as it lay bent in half inside my briefs.

"Well, after taking a good look, it's obvious you're at least partially turned on. I'm sure if I play around with something up front, I can get you fully turned on, though," he said.

My heart started racing. Did he just say what I think he said? Or could I just be misinterpreting what he actually said for what I wanted it to mean? I've never been very good about picking up hints like this. I decided that five weeks of pent-up desire was just fucking with my mind.

"I'll be back shortly to see if you are or not," he said with a friendly smile, and I was pretty sure I caught him taking a look at my ever-expanding crotch before he turned and walked away.

I couldn't help but stare at his nice ass as he walked up the aisle. Fuck! I felt like my dick was going to rip through my jeans at any moment and erupt like a volcano!

A few moments later I heard his voice again. He announced over everyone's headsets that they were experiencing a few problems with the new entertainment system and that everything should be fixed in no time. With that, everyone's screens went blank. However, in a few minutes, as promised all screens flickered on again, even mine.

I tuned into a rerun of "Roseanne", but my mind was not on the show. Instead, it was on the sexy technician, and I started daydreaming that he was again by my side, trying to fix my TV, only this time he was completely naked.

In my daydream, just as the technician's hand fell to my shoulder to pull my head to his now hard cock, a real hand on my shoulder awoke me from my fantasy. I looked up and saw the technician standing next to me. It was kind of freaky.

"Sir?

"Uh, yeah... I'm turned on now," I blurted as he jolted me from my daydream.

"I can see that," he smiled, and again, I was pretty sure I saw his eyes dart to my noticeably throbbing package as he spoke the words. "My name is Derek," he continued. "Let me know if I can be of any more service to you."

"Thanks," I said, shifting a bit in my seat, my dick now rock hard and just aching to get out. This time my eyes remained on his, and there was no doubt where his eyes went, as he stood there for a moment longer, smiled, and then walked away.

My dick was telling me that he had looked at my bulge because he was gay and was interested, but my brain told me that I was reading too much into it, that his smile was one of silent laughter over the fact that some young guy on the flight had sprung one of those spontaneous boners that young guys often get at the most inopportune times.

I wasn't embarrassed, though. Even if he was straight, it turned me on knowing that such a hot-looking guy was aware that I had gotten a hard-on in my pants. But that wasn't helping me at all, and so I decided it would be best to do my damnedest to focus my attention and thoughts on the TV show in front of me, and off of my needy dick.

I had only just managed to relax a bit and start to enjoy the TV show when I started to doze off. "Hey stud," a voice suddenly said over the headset. It was the technician's voice. "I know you want me! Meet me in the middle restroom if you wanna have a bit of fun!"

Shocked, I looked around to see that everyone else was just sitting there watching their screens or listening to their audio channels. Was I dreaming or did I really just hear what I heard. Did the technician somehow rig the headset and send me a private invitation… for sex… with him?

It had to be all in my imagination; just something I dreamt during my brief nap, I thought, but then I started to question whether it had all just been a dream or not when I saw Derek coming down the aisle.

All Male Fiction: A Roll in the Hay

By: Ryan Michaels

ryanxxx@hotmail.com
Based on a premise by unknown author

When my best friend John was sixteen, his dad ran off with another woman, leaving his family to fend for themselves. This resulted in John having to take over the majority of his dad's duties on the family farm. That took up a lot more of his time, with John having to get up very early most mornings and go to bed early most nights. We still hung out, but his work around the farm always came first.

The year his dad left was the first year that I helped John with the annual task of haymaking. He needed as much help as he could get, because all the farmers in the district were doing the same thing, so it was not always easy to find people.

Even though I dreaded haymaking season - I had hay fever, which always caught up with me later on in the night, and it was damn hard work - I have returned to help him every year since then for the past ten years. As John's best friend I felt it was my duty to help him out, so in that respect I didn't really mind.

John, on the other hand, loved haymaking season, despite the fact that he – or I should say we - had to work almost around the clock if the weather was good, trying to finish before it turned to rain and spoiled it all. In fact, he said haymaking season was his favorite time of year.

This year John had hired a part-time farmhand, who helped out on the weekends. His name was Mark, a nineteen-year-old local, whose regular job during the week was at a garage in the nearby small town. John had mentioned this and told me a bit about him before that day, and I was glad he had made the decision to hire him. The extra help with the haymaking would be nice.

The first thing I noticed about Mark was his good looks, and then his body. Dressed in a tight tank top and fairly tight knee-length shorts, it was evident he had a well-defined body. His arms and shoulders were strong from all the physical work he did, and his muscled pecs strained against the fabric of his tank top. Below the waist, his legs had a light covering of hair and were muscular and defined as well. His bulge was nothing to write home about; not really much showing, especially considering the tightness of his shorts. He had one hell of a great ass on him, though! His shorts showed off its shape perfectly.

Prior to my arrival, the weather had been kind and all the fields had been cut and everything was dried nicely. And now, with John having introduced Mark and me, it was time to get to work. The forecast had called for rain in the next few days, so the race was on to get all the hay baled and into the barn before then. But for now, the weather was absolutely perfect, not a cloud in the sky and hardly a breath of wind.

As the three of us worked away on the huge task at hand, there was barely any chatter. I tried a few times, but neither John nor Mark seemed interested in talking. I shouldn't have been surprised. John was always 'on the job' and never stood still long enough to get a sentence out, never mind a conversation. As for Mark's lack of social engagement, according to John, he was having relationships problems, and John had warned me that Mark would probably be in a foul mood and keep to himself all weekend.

After about an hour or so, Mark stopped what he was doing, crossed his arms in front of himself, and peeled his tank top up and over his head. His chest was naturally smooth and absolutely beautiful. His stomach was taught and had what could easily become a nice six-pack just peeking through the skin. I stared at his naked upper body as he tucked his tank top into the back of his shorts and then went about applying the sunscreen that John had provided. As he moved his hands all over his chest and stomach, I felt my dick starting to stir inside my own shorts, and had to force my eyes away and back to my work.

A little while later, John was taking off his shirt and applying sunscreen, and then so was I. With the sun beating down on us, it was just too hot not to take them off.

Although I stole the odd glance at Mark, the work we were doing helped to keep my mind on the task at hand and off his body, and my cock.

At around nine o'clock that evening, the field had almost been cleared of bales. There was one full trailer left to haul to the barn and one more partial load. With only room for one on the tractor and no room on the trailer when it was full, one person had to transport and unload the hay bales. We had taken turns all day long, and it was John's turn now.

John set off with the full tractor at a walking pace, careful with the loaded trailer going down the hill. The round trip would take about forty-five minutes. While he was gone, Mark and I just had to pull the remaining bales to a loading spot, which wouldn't take us long to do at all. After that was done, we could take a good long break while we waited for John to return.

Once we were finished, we both sat down and leaned against the stack of bales. John had provided us with bottles of water, and we both grabbed one and took a few swigs. It was warm by that point, but still an instant thirst quencher.

Mark put his water down and slouched against the bale, staring at the sky, which had taken on a red glow in the twilight. Slouched as he was against the bale, his taught stomach sinking down a bit, the waist of his shorts had enticingly opened away from his body. I couldn't help but look, and actually found myself licking my lips as I imagined what lay nestled inside those shorts. And, once again, I felt my dick starting to awaken.

"So… John mentioned you and you're girlfriend are planning to get engaged soon," I said. John had told me that, too, and then said they'd had a fight, but I didn't just want to blurt out, "Hey John told me you and your girlfriend had a huge fight. What was it about?" The truth was, I was just trying to strike up a conversation with him, any kind of conversation, to keep my mind off his half-naked body and slightly gaping shorts. Plus it was kind of awkward sitting there in the middle of a field not speaking to one another.

"Oh, it was more than just a fight, we're finished… for good this time," he replied.

"So what happened? If you don't mind me asking."

"I don't mind. It was because of her mother."

"Her mother? Oh, you mean she didn't like you or something, didn't want you marrying her daughter?"

"No, I mean it was like it wasn't just my girlfriend I was getting engaged too, it was her mother, too!"

"How so?"

"Her mother was the one who decided everything. I'd say, 'are we going out tonight?' and she would go and ask her fuckin' mother if it was ok! Mother this and mother that, sticking her nose into everything we did! And my girlfriend let her, encouraged her. We had lots of arguments about it, but nothing changed, and I knew it never would. Finally, I just got fed up, had enough, and called it quits!" he explained.

"Wow, sorry to hear that, but it sounds like you made the only choice you could. But what about…"

"What about what?"

"Nothing, it's none of my business."

"It's ok, go ahead."

"Well, I heard that she was pregnant, and that's why you were getting married."

Mark laughed at my gossip. "Fuckin' small towns!" He then leaned over to me and said, "That was another thing that really got me; she didn't let me touch her, said she had to save it for the wedding night."

I was quite surprised by this revelation. Mark was a hot-looking guy with a great body, and being nineteen and having a steady girlfriend, I was amazed he wasn't actually getting any! "No way, really?" I replied.

"Yeah, seriously. I think she'd have to ask her mom before we did it, even if we were married," he joked.

"How long did you two date?"

"Five years. Started dating when we were fourteen. She was my first girlfriend, and we were together ever since then until now."

First girlfriend? Since fourteen? Only girlfriend he's ever had? She never put out for him in all that time? That must mean that this hot, young stud is a… virgin. No way! "So when you said she said she was saving herself for the wedding night, you meant doing it, right? Fucking? She must have given you blowjobs, though, right?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Hand jobs at least?"

He shook his head again. "Not even that. Fuckin' bitch!"

"Did you ever cheat on her, get some on the side?"

"No. If I'd done that, around here, where everybody knows everybody and their business, she would've found out for sure."

"At least you would have gotten some, though."

"I know, but I was in love with her, thought I was anyway, and was willing to wait. Why do you think I was going to ask her to marry me at nineteen?"

I just couldn't resist, he had my attention now. "So what have you been doing, you know… for relief?''

He grinned at me and then looked to his crotch. My gaze followed his. "The only relief I get is from my right hand. And regularly!" He chuckled and nudged me. "That's the worst," he continued. "I'm a horny fucker and it needs lots of attention. I do it like five or six times a day sometimes. Always at least four times." Then he laughed and said, "Twice, I even managed to do it ten times in a day.''

I was flabbergasted. Here was this good-looking guy, a total stud, and he wasn't getting any sex, had never had sex, except with his own hand, and he was flogging his log all the time, four to six times a day!  And he was telling me all of this!

Speechless, I couldn't think of a suitable reply, but he broke the silence for me and said, "So, what about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, is that how you get relief, too?"

"Well, yeah, sometimes," I said, getting my wits back. "But nothing like four to six times a day."

"Oh, so you have a girlfriend, then?'' he asked.

"No, why do you say that?"

"Because you said you get relief like that only sometimes. You must be getting laid or else you'd be doing it all the time, wouldn't you?"

"Well I don't have a girlfriend, but there is someone I go out with now and again. We're more like good friends, but good enough friends to jump into bed together from time to time. Doesn't happen often, though." It was true, I just didn't bother to mention that the friend was another guy.

"So, basically what you're saying is that your best friend is your right hand, too," he laughed.

"Yeah, basically," I agreed.

What a weird turn of events. After all this time of nothing much said between us, now here he was all of a sudden talking to me like I was a good friend of his, the two of us laid against a hay bale, discussing his girlfriend problems and talking about jacking off like a couple of schoolboys.

But now things had fallen silent again, and I looked up to the beautiful night sky as I absorbed all that we had just talked about. When I took my eyes from the sky, Mark had slouched flat on the ground with just his head propped against the hay bale, and I noticed his hand was tucked inside the waist of his shorts, his fingers busily playing with his cock, but almost unconsciously on his part.

I nudged him, bringing him from his reverie, and said with a smile on my face, "Is this one of the four times, or is it five, or six?''

He looked up and grinned. "Being out here all day with you guys, this will only be the second time today." He then nudged me in the ribs with his elbow. "How about you, your cock as big as the rest of you or what?'' he asked, taking in my long body.

I noticed when he asked the question that his hand started to move a bit faster inside his shorts. The idea that he was hard just by talking about dicks and jerking off made me harden up too, and I had to shuffle a bit to adjust myself inside the tight briefs I wore underneath my shorts.

"I've got a good handful," I offered.

"What do you call a good handful?''

"Oh about eight inches or so I guess. Never had a tape measure against it," I answered him truthfully.

"Shit! I'd call that more than a handful! I'd call that two handfuls!" he laughed.

I was about to return his question and ask him what he considered to be a handful, in the hopes of finding out how big his cock was, too, but I didn't have a chance. Instead, I got something even better, something unexpected.

"This is what I'd call a handful," he said as he popped open the button on his shorts and pushed them down, along with his underwear, to below his balls to reveal his rock-hard cock. He looked at his exposed cock for a moment and then up at me and said, "You agree?"

His cock looked to be about six inches. I wasn't a size queen, but I had to admit I was a little disappointed it wasn't bigger. With his height (I'm tall and he wasn't that much shorter than me), good looks, and hot body, I guess I just expected to see a large piece of meat between his legs. Still, it was nice, though, and really quite thick. "Yeah, I guess so," I said.

"Let's have a look at yours, then. Can't see much when it's hidden under there," he said pointing at my crotch.

Hell, I wasn't shy, and I didn't have any problem shucking down my shorts and showing my hard dick to this hot young guy!

All Male Fiction: Secret Liaisons

By: Unknown Author & Ryan Michaels

I work for a wholesale distributor of particle board products. Not the most exciting work in the world, but the pay is decent, the benefits are good, and the employees are a pretty close-knit group. Everyone gets along really well, and we often socialize together outside of the office.

I spend my days behind a desk, managing customer accounts, and often have to coordinate the out-shipment of orders with the guys in the warehouse. Even though I'm glad I don't work in the warehouse, I love walking to the other end of our enormous building to meet with the logistics manager several times a day. Why? The answer is easy. I'm gay, and I enjoy checking out the guys who spend their days loading and unloading our trucks. You know the kinds of guys I'm talking about; those muscular guys with tattoos who've sweated through their shirts by ten in the morning, are constantly swapping crude, sexual jokes with each other, and drink a six-pack of beer every night before climbing on top of their girlfriends to grunt out a load.

Back in June, one of the girls I work with in the office invited me to attend an upcoming Metallica concert, along with several of our co-workers who were all planning to buy tickets. I have to admit, I'm not a big Metallica fan; in fact, I'm not a fan at all. I hate loud music, and the thought of being wedged in the middle of a huge, drunken crowd, listening to ear-splitting heavy metal, was just about the most horrible way to spend an evening that I could possibly imagine. But, I knew that everyone would party after, and I loved a good party, so I accepted her invitation.

Nine days later, I found myself wedged in the middle of a huge, drunken crowd, listening to ear-splitting heavy metal music.

After the concert, everyone went to Dan's house to party. Dan was our warehouse manager. There were seven of us altogether: Dan and his wife Amy, Jen, the girl from the office who had invited me, Todd and Darren, who both worked in the warehouse, Todd's girlfriend, Rachel, and of course myself. Everyone was pretty well messed up before we got there, then began doing shots of tequila together in the kitchen... while listening to even more Metallica on the CD player!

By the time three o'clock rolled around, the entire group was scattered around the living room, passed out in front of some infomercial playing on the TV. I had declined the tequila bottle, so I was still half awake as I sat, slouched on the couch next to Rachel, contemplating a much-needed trip down the long hallway to the bathroom.

A couple of minutes later I got myself up, and as I headed down the hall I could hear a woman whimpering in the last bedroom. The door was pushed almost shut, but open just a crack. It had to be Dan and Amy; that was their bedroom. They were both pretty drunk and probably didn't know the door hadn't latched shut, and must've thought everyone was asleep, or else they probably wouldn't have been fucking, or at least not making obvious sounds.

As I hesitated just outside the bathroom, it occurred to me that I'd seen Dan asleep in the recliner in the living room. Well, who the hell was it then? I tried to remember who had been missing from the living room, but my head was fuzzy from all the beer I'd consumed earlier in the evening. Unable to resist the temptation, I quietly crept down the hall to the door; I just had to know.

The lights weren't on in the bedroom, but with light from the hallway streaming into the room, I could see well enough. Whoever the girl was, it was pretty obvious she was getting a big one, and I nearly gasped out loud when I saw who was giving it to her - it was Darren!

Darren has been with the company since last summer and, unlike the majority of the other warehouse guys, he wasn't actually all that big and muscular, but more tall and lanky. Since the warehouse isn't air-conditioned, I've seen him working without a shirt during the summer, and I will say that he definitely has a hot body. He's very lean and firm, with just a hint of a six-pack, a nice patch of treasure trail hair, and several tattoos.

In the dimly lit bedroom, his naked body was lying on top of the girl as he eagerly humped his cock into her pussy from behind. She was lying flat on her stomach, with her ass slightly raised, and both of their legs were spread wide, giving me a perfect view of his thick, hard shaft as it pumped in and out of the wet hole between her legs. After every three or four thrusts he'd pause, pushing it all the way in, causing her to moan as she got his entire length. God, it was big, and he was giving it to her good!

My cock sprang to life inside my pants as I watched, and it wasn't long before I had to adjust it. Just as I was about to turn and hit the bathroom, where I could jack off while I listened, Darren shoved his cock deep, burying it just as far as he could. The girl squealed, lifting her head off the bed, and I nearly fell over when I realized it was Amy, Dan's wife, getting that big cock!

My god! Dan was just twenty feet away, snoring softly in the living room, while his wife was in their bed getting herself a good fuck from one of his warehouse boys! Without even realizing what I was doing, I suddenly found myself with my pants unzipped, gently stroking my horny cock as I watched Darren pounding away on top of his boss's wife.

After making her moan a few more times, he suddenly lifted off her, pulling his cock out, and I watched as he began pumping his big, stiff dick with his hand until it spurted several long, thick streams of cum all over her back. That's all it took for me. With a low, involuntary groan, I felt my balls release their load as a huge gush of cum suddenly flooded the hand I held beneath my cock. Fuck, it felt good.

In that same instant, hearing a groan behind him, Darren shot a brief look over his shoulder at the door. I quickly shrank back against the wall, silently praying that he hadn't seen me as I made my way to the bathroom, slipped inside, and quietly closed the door.

I stayed in that bathroom for about ten minutes, and by the time I quietly opened the door and peeked into the hallway, the house was silent. I quickly slipped down the hall and made my escape through a door in the kitchen.

Fortunately, the concert took place on a Friday night, which gave me all weekend to recover before having to face Darren again at work on Monday. To my surprise, he didn't so much as even glance in my direction when I had to visit the warehouse that day and speak with Dan about an outbound shipment. Perhaps he hadn't seen me after all. I was sure he knew someone was there, but maybe he hadn't been able to tell who it was. Actually, as long as it wasn't Dan, he probably didn't care.

As I nonchalantly watched him work, I wondered just how long he'd been servicing Amy with his big equipment. Had that been the very first time, or had he been slipping over to the house regularly when Dan wasn't home to make her whimper from his big cock? Returning to the office, I resigned myself to the fact that I would more than likely never know.

On the following Thursday, my car broke down at work. It was shortly after five o'clock, and my sorry little Mazda had decided it just didn't feel like driving home that night. As I sat there, coaxing it into turning over, getting more and more frustrated by the second, Dan and Darren came walking across the parking lot together, heading for their cars. A few minutes later, seeing that I was having car trouble, they came over to assist and were soon both poking around under the hood, trying to help get it started.

Once it finally turned over, I was surprised when Darren offered to follow me in his car, just to make sure I made it all the way home.

When we arrived at the parking lot of my apartment complex, he pulled into the parking spot next to mine, waved, and smiled. I thought he was going to drive off, but he simply sat there as I got out of my car and locked the door. Not exactly sure what he was waiting for, I leaned down on the passenger door of his car in front of the open window to thank him for seeing that I made it home okay. I was surprised when he grinned and said, "I was kinda hoping you were gonna thank me with a beer."

A few minutes later we were sitting in my living room, having a beer together while we enjoyed the coolness of the air conditioning. Being mid-June, it was unbelievably hot and humid, and Darren's hair was soaking wet and stuck to his head from working in the heat all day. He was wearing a white, sleeveless "Counting Crows" t-shirt, and a pair of old, faded blue jeans with a large, frayed hole on his inner left thigh. As much as I tried, I just couldn't keep my eyes off that hole. Although I fought to push the thought out of my head, I kept finding myself hoping for a brief glimpse of the long dick that I knew was tucked inside those dirty, thread-worn jeans.

I didn't know for sure if he'd caught me looking, or if he simply did it on impulse, but he dropped back against the couch with a long, tired sigh and began casually fingering the hole in his jeans as he swigged on his beer and took in his surroundings.

I was nervously chattering away about nothing of importance while picturing him thrusting his big cock into Amy, when he looked over and said, "Can I ask you something?"

Surprised by his sudden question, I shot back, "Sure."

All Male Fiction: Reunited

By: Ryan Michaels

ryanxxx@hotmail.com

The following story is based on real people, places, and events; however, the main sex scene is fictional.

**********

It was that time of year again; the warm weather had arrived, and, Pride was just a few days away. I was very excited about going to Pride this year, for a couple of reasons.

The first was because it was World Pride. World Pride was like the Olympics, in that it only occurred every few years, and was always hosted in a different city in different parts of the world. This year marked the first time that it was being held anywhere in North America, and it was being held in my city, Toronto. It was going to be a historical event for that reason, and I wasn't going to miss it.

The other reason I was so excited, even more so than going to World Pride, was because Scott was going to be there. Scott was the ex-boyfriend of my best friend and roommate, Mike. The first time we met, there was an instant, yet unspoken attraction between us. Scott even lived in the same building, so I saw him a lot at our place. Of course, given that he was my best friend's boyfriend, we never did anything about it, at least not for a long time.

That all changed when the two of them broke up and, without getting into too much detail (which would be a complete story all on its own), the two of us ended up hooking up almost right away. That first time took place in the stairwell outside of my apartment, while my friend/his ex was home. Scott had a roommate too, who was not only a homebody but also worked from home, so he was always around, and we were both concerned that our hooking up at Scott's place would get back to Mike, something we both knew would not go over well. With time being of the essence, due to our public location, I ended up giving Scott a quick blowjob and milking a load out of his cock and right down my throat.

We hooked up several more times after that, with one of us giving the other a blowjob or trading blowjobs. We never did any more than that because we were always meeting in secret places where we couldn't get naked, and didn't have a lot of time to take our time and do more. Basically, we just met up and one or both of us pulled our dick out through our fly.

Eventually, on a rare occasion when his roommate was out of the apartment, I went up to his place and fucked him. Scott was versatile, or I should say a versatile bottom; he much preferred to get fucked, loved it actually, but he'd fuck, too, every once in a while, if the guy he was with was a strict bottom, and he was in the mood to do it. As it turned out, that first fuck I gave him turned out to be the last, as Scott met someone right after and they started dating. They even ended up moving in together a short time later.

A couple of years after that, he relocated to Vancouver and still lives there to this day. It has been years since we've seen each other in person, but, over the years, we have kept in touch via email, texts, and the odd phone call every now and then – which usually ended up in us having phone sex, or, sometimes, phone sex was the purpose of the call. No matter how much time passed, even in the words of our emails and text exchanges, not to mention dirty phone calls, it was evident there was still a very strong sexual attraction between us.

When Scott emailed me to let me know he was making the trip from Vancouver to attend the World Pride event and to see me while he was there, to say I was excited about this news would be an understatement. I couldn't wait to see him again, and I knew he was just as excited about getting to see me again, too. Looking back, as well as thinking about the many conversations we'd had over the years talking about that time in our past, the two of us had had so many missed opportunities, and I for one planned to make up for some of them during Scott's visit.

Scott was arriving late Friday afternoon, and leaving on Monday. Plans were made for me to meet him at his downtown hotel shortly after his arrival, and for me to spend the entire weekend with him, not just at Pride, but at the hotel as well.

When the day arrived, I had butterflies in my stomach as I made my way to his hotel; I wasn't nervous, just excited. As soon as I got there, I wasn't sure if I needed to check in at the front desk or if I could just go on up to his room. With World Pride and a few other events taking place in the downtown core, the lobby was a flurry of people, and the desk clerks were busily occupied, so I ended up just spying the elevators and making my way right to them.

The butterflies increased as I arrived in front of the door to Scott's room. I reached out and knocked on it, and just seconds later it opened and there stood Scott. He had a big smile on his face, as did I, and as soon as I stepped through the door, I dropped my overnight bag and we hugged each other as the door swung closed behind me.

Our embrace didn't go on for very long, and as soon as we had broken apart, I dropped down to my knees in front of him and grabbed at the front of his pants.

"Whoa, uh, Ryan, don't…" Scott said as his hands came down to mine, trying to stop me from getting at his cock.

I had no idea why he'd want to stop me. All I could figure was that he was just as desperate to get his lips around my cock again as I was his, and he wanted to suck my dick first. But he didn't have a chance to say any more than he did, for I had his pants and underwear pushed down below his balls and his cock in my wet mouth in a flash.

My hands reached around behind him and held onto his firm ass, gently squeezing it, and, giving into the pleasure, his hand fell to my head and rested lightly atop it and he just moaned softly as I began to blow him.

After a couple of minutes, Scott began to gently hunch his cock at my mouth and I knew he was about to cum. A look down at his balls also told me the same thing. And then he confirmed it when he quietly moaned, "Uhhh, I'm gonna cum!"

I immediately pulled my mouth off his cock and looked up at him with a grin and said, "Not yet. We still have a lot more to do first."

As I stood back up, Scott bent to pull up his underwear and pants, and my mouth fell open and my cheeks flushed red, for behind him in the room were three other guys, and all three had just quietly witnessed everything.

All Male Fiction: Rocks for Jocks

By: Natty Soltesz

I was taking a summer physics course to bone up on my skills and pass some time. The campus was pretty deserted in the summer and the mood was nice — quiet and serene. There was this one guy who always sat in the front row, not that it did him much good, educationally speaking. Nick Anthony was what you might call an oaf: a big, dumb jock with a thick neck and an even thicker skull, and a prime candidate for "Rocks for Jocks" — which is how the rest of us referred to the Mickey Mouse science prerequisite typically snatched up by athletes and underachievers.

But 'Intro to Physics' was where he'd somehow ended up, an unwitting cog in the tyranny that was a liberal arts education, trying to wrap his head around Newtonian mechanics and kinetic theory when I suspected he'd rather focus on the trajectory of a football sailing through the air. He was trying so hard, intently taking notes as our professor explained equations on the board. But you could tell it wasn't getting through.

I stared as much as I dared. He always wore athletic gear — thin white t-shirts that hugged his buff and beefy body, and blue silky track pants with buttons going down the sides. A few times he wore a sleeveless Texas Longhorns shirt. His arms were so tan and toned. I lived for the days when he came in wearing his mesh basketball shorts, his ass flexing as he walked, his package flopping up front — Jesus! He had short dark hair and a stubbly face with sensuous lips. I'm sure he had no trouble getting laid on a Saturday night, but physics just wasn't his forte.

The prof and I had become friendly by the third week of the course. He asked me if I'd consider tutoring Nick and racking up some extra credit in the process. I didn't need the credit, but I enjoyed tutoring, regardless of whether I was fantasizing about the pupil sitting on my face, so I said yes.

We were formally introduced one day after class. Nick shook my hand, smiling. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy, and we walked out of class together. I offered to meet with him that night.

"Well, tonight, I got this girl I'm supposed to see…"

"Oh. No worries," I replied. "If you got a girl, we'll do it some other time."

He said tomorrow worked better for him, and I figured some lucky girl was going to be freshly fucked by then.

Thirty hours later, Nick pulled up to my off campus apartment. He couldn't have dressed any better — that goddamn sleeveless Longhorns shirt and the mesh shorts. I was dying.

I offered him a cold drink, and we sat down at the kitchen table. I guess I was a bit older and wiser than Nick, but only by a couple of years. That said, I never planned to seduce him — at least, not at first.

We started on some equations. He wasn't getting it and began to get frustrated. My place was hot and I didn't have AC, so after a half hour I suggested we take a break and try to catch a breeze on my balcony. Nick sat in my patio chair and downed the rest of his drink.

"So," I said, "you went out with your girl last night?"

"Yeah… well, we didn't really go out, y'know?" Nick said, smirking at me to see if I got the gist.

I laughed. "And you'd rather do that than work equations? Unreal," I joked.

Nick laughed and then sighed. "Man, I really hate this stuff. I dunno why it's supposed to be important."

"Well, you'll probably never use it again. But it's a requirement, right?"

"Yeah. Coach says I have to get at least a C. I dunno why I suck so bad."

"You'll get it. Besides, it's not that important in the grand scheme of things. I'm sure there's other stuff you're much better at."

"Yeah, you could say that," he said, giving me a sly lift of his eyebrows.

Fuck it, I thought. "So you're a real stud, huh?"

"Yeah," he answered, chuckling.

"I'm not surprised. You've got a really hot body," I said.

"Yeah, I do," he replied cockily.

I decided to go for it, put the moves on him. What's the worst he could do? Freak out, try to hit me? If that's how he reacted, I'd simply apologize, tell him I just admired his body, that no matter how much I tried to build up my muscles, I couldn't get a body like his. I felt I had nothing to lose, and possibly a big cock to gain, so I leaned forward and put my hand on his beefy thigh.

He didn't stop me.

All Male Fiction: My Best Friend (Part 5)

By: Lucas Miller

Read Part 4 | Read Part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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