All Male Fiction: Blind Trust

By: Ryan Michaels

 

The afternoon light filtered softly through the bedroom blinds as my boyfriend looked over at me, his expression a mix of playfulness and intent. I had been waiting all day for him to come home and fuck me.

"Get naked and lie down on the bed on your stomach," he instructed. "I'm going to take a quick shower first, and then I'll come back in here, and you'll get what really need."

I smiled, feeling a familiar warmth rise. "I'll join you in the shower instead," I countered. "Maybe you can even fuck me in there."

He shook his head, a knowing grin spreading across his face. "No," he said softly. "I know how much you want it, that you've been waiting all day for cock in your ass. But wouldn't it be even more exciting for you to lie there on your stomach, completely naked, with your legs spread, feeling the cool air against your hole and waiting with total anticipation for me to walk in and then feel it slide right into you?"

The thought alone sent a shiver through me. The wait would be torture, but the payoff would be worth it. I nodded in agreement before he disappeared into the bathroom. Silence settled over the bedroom as I began to strip out of my clothes, broken only by the hum of the running shower. Grabbing the lube from the bedside table drawer, I greased myself up, then got onto the bed on my stomach. Full of anticipation, I took a breath and let the tension—and the heat—build, counting down the moments until he came back.

About ten long minutes later, the bedroom door clicked open. He climbed onto the bed behind me, leaning down so his breath brushed against my ear.

"Are you ready to get fucked?" he whispered.

Before I could answer, a sleep mask slipped over my eyes, plunging me into sudden darkness. I gasped softly. "Oh... you've never done anything like this before."

"You like it, don't you?" he murmured, grabbing first one, then the other of my wrists and bringing them behind my back.

"Yes," I breathed as he tied them securely before moving off the bed.

Standing at the foot of the bed, he reached down and spread my legs wider apart. I heard the pop of the lube bottle, then, a moment later, his voice. "Do you want this cock in your ass?" he asked.

"Yes!" I practically cried out.

I felt the mattress go down behind me, then the tip of his cock touching my ass crack.

"Beg for it," he said, his voice commanding and teasing.  

"Please!" Fuck me! Oh, God, please! I need your cock inside me so bad! Fuck me, please!" I begged.

The head slipped through my crack and against my hole. I felt the familiar pressure start to push against it and the head popping through my barrier. I let out a deep moan, but as his cock continued to push its way inside, a sudden, jarring realization hit me: it was moving deeper, filling me in a way my boyfriend never quite managed.

All Male True Experience: A Matter of Convenience

By: Ryan Michaels

ryanxxx@hotmail.com

I used to buy my cigarettes at a certain gas station in town because they had the lowest prices. Due to an upcoming road expansion project, the government appropriated the land, forcing local businesses to close or relocate. The gas station simply shut down about three weeks ago.

As a night owl, I regularly popped out late at night when running low on smokes. Because alternative local stores and gas stations all matched the same elevated prices, I ultimately switched to a 24-hour convenience store located closer to home.

On my first visit around 1:00 AM, the clerk—a cute guy in his early twenties with a light-brown complexion and a slim, athletic swimmer's build—was talking to someone who was clearly a friend rather than a customer. As I approached the chest-high counter, they stopped talking, and I could feel his friend's eyes on me. I turned, gave a friendly smile, and immediately recognized the friend as a guy whose cock I had sucked a couple of weeks prior. You need to know that I am a cocksucker; when I hook up with guys, it is strictly to suck them off with no reciprocation wanted or needed. As I crossed back toward the door, I heard the friend whispering to the clerk.

The next time I went in around 12:45 AM. This time, the clerk greeted me with a wide smile, leaving me to wonder if his friend had filled him in. I bought my smokes and left.

On my third visit right around 1:00 AM, the clerk was on the phone with someone. He looked at me, told the person on the line that a customer had arrived for smokes, smiled, chuckled softly, and said a pointed "Yeah" before putting the phone down to grab my brand. As I walked out, I saw him in the glass reflection, back on the phone, looking at me, and giggling with who was obviously the friend that had been in the store that first time.

Driving home, I pieced it together: rather than just saying he had a customer, he had made a point of noting that the customer was there for smokes, followed by a knowing smile and a "Yeah". I concluded that the guy I had previously serviced must have told the clerk everything, and the clerk was verifying that I was that customer.

When I went in next, the total was more than before. "Fuck!" I cursed. "Price has gone up again?"

"Yup," the clerk said.

"Man, I really need to quit! Sucking on cigarettes is going to bankrupt me." I didn't say "sucking on cigarettes" intentionally; it's simply a habit of phrasing I've always used. Whenever I'm in desperate need of a smoke, I'll catch myself saying, "I really need to suck on a cigarette."

He laughed softly and quietly replied, "Yeah, there are better things to suck on," while ringing up the purchase.

My eyes locked onto him. While not normally in my nature, the possibility of sucking a guy off always got me instantly aroused and bold. Figuring I had little to lose after his remark—and that I could always go to another 24-hour store if it backfired—I decided to go for it.

BateBook Shorts - All Male True Experience: Private Practice

By: Unknown Author

Lucas joined the swim team two weeks into the season. As the team captain, I arrived early to help him catch up before the other members arrived. When he arrived wearing swim trunks instead of the required practice Speedo, I provided him with a spare from the locker room.

When Lucas took unusually long to change, I went back to the locker room to check on him and found him turning side to side in front of the mirror. The reason quickly became obvious when my eyes dropped to his Speedo, which was stretched to its absolute limits by a huge bulge.

"Whoa," I blurted, "I think you need a bigger Speedo. You're about ready to bust out of that one."

Lucas chuckled, continuing to admire his reflection from various angles. "Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing."

"Yeah, that one's definitely too small for you," I remarked, grabbing a larger size and tossing it to him.

Without hesitation, he slipped out of the first Speedo right in front of me. My gaze naturally drifted to his crotch, and I couldn't help but stare at the size of his cock and balls—his soft cock hung long, and his balls were egg-sized! As he maneuvered into the larger swimsuit, subtle movements left him semi-erect, with the tip poking out the top.