All Male Fiction: Intimate Strangers

By: Ryan Michaels
ryanxxx@hotmail.com

Ryan drew in a sharp breath as he heard the front door squeak open. It was late, it was dark, and he was home alone, in bed, completely naked.

He heard footsteps, and his body tensed when he heard those footsteps getting closer and closer.

He could hardly breathe as his bedroom door swung open and, even though he was wearing a sleep mask, he shut his eyes.

Ryan felt the fingers and knuckles of what was obviously a man's hand on his skin as the man grasped the top of his blankets and pulled them down, exposing Ryan's bare butt.

As Ryan lay there fully exposed and vulnerable, his ears took in the sound of someone taking their clothes off. Moments later, he felt the mattress go down near the bottom. He remained completely still, barely breathing, as he felt the tip of the man's soft dick lightly brush against his balls before making its way from the base of his ass crack to the top of it.

All Male Fiction: Late-Night Hunger

By: Ryan Michaels
ryanxxx@hotmail.com

 

As my sleepy eyes came into focus, so did the fuzzy glow of the digital clock on the bedside table; it read 2:06 in the morning. I was staying at the Comfort Inn, a place I was very familiar with, as I traveled to this particular city once a month on business. I usually slept just fine during my regular stays there, but for some reason, I had woken up and just couldn't get back to sleep.

After alternating between tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling, I decided that a snack might help, since I was feeling hungry and thought maybe that was what was keeping me awake. So, up I hopped from the bed and headed off for the small alcove that housed the ice machine and a couple of vending machines.

As I started to peruse the snack items available in one of the machines, a man walked in and took up at the vending machine next to me, which housed sodas and water. "Hi there," he greeted me.

"Hi," I replied, casually taking him in as he browsed the choice of beverages in the machine. He looked to be about forty and was clad in only a white t-shirt and boxer shorts. He was decent looking and appeared to be in good shape. When my eyes moved to take a look at his crotch, they lingered there as I saw the outline of his cock hanging down along his thigh.

"Like what you see?" he spoke, while still looking straight ahead, and then he turned and looked right at me.

"What? I don't know what you mean, I'm just getting a snack," I babbled and turned my head, eyeing the items in my machine again.

"Hey, it's cool," he said. "The only reason I'm up at this hour is because my pecker won't let me sleep, and I'm pretty sure after I caught you checking out my dick that you like sucking on them, and a good suck job would be real nice right about now. So, how about it? You wanna suck on this?" he asked giving his cock a squeeze through his underwear.

By that point my own dick was hard inside my sleep pants, making my condition impossible to hide.

My hard dick was screaming yes, but my head was telling me that this guy, after catching me staring at his crotch and figuring me for a queer, could be setting me up for a beating or something. I'm sure it won't come as any surprise that my cock won out and I nodded my head.

"Great!" he grinned, and then he put his hands to his hips and was about to push his underwear down, right there in the fucking alcove!

"Hey, wait!" I spoke. "We can't do it here! Why don't we go back to my room, or we can go to yours if you prefer?"

"It's after two in the morning; no one is around. Where's your sense of adventure?" he smiled.

"I don't know. I really think we should go back to…"

I stopped there when he went ahead and proceeded to push his underwear down past his balls. One thing I could not resist was a cock. I wasn't just a cocksucker, I was a hungry cocksucker, and now that his cock was exposed right in front of me, all reason and caution went out the window and I immediately fell to my knees in front of him and gobbled that cock up!

All Male True Experience: A Walk on the Wild Side

By: ZigZagZonk

 

This experience happened thirty years ago, in the space of about thirty minutes.

I was twenty-one, shy, naïve, and more than a bit curious about life and sex. I was also getting absolutely no interest from the ladies. There was a bar close to my college that had a seedier reputation than it deserved because it was THE gay bar in the area and anybody who was gay, bi, or curious (like me) went there. It was New Year's Eve, and, to quote Lou Reed, I thought, "Why not take a walk on the wild side?"

Later that evening, I put on what I thought was appropriate attire for a gay nightclub and headed off. I may have been new at this, but I was not so naïve as to realize that my twinkish charm would appeal to some of the gay men.

When I got there, the club was packed full of men on the prowl, so many that every square inch was jammed full. The place had the stench of cologne, alcohol, and smoke. Those were the days when you could still smoke in a bar, but how anybody got a lit cigarette in their mouth was beyond me; you could only slip past the door and work yourself past horny men three inches at a time.

The dark nightclub was operating at a deafening roar. People laughed and talked at full volume to be heard over the dance music pounding out of the loudspeakers. Some of the young men seemed exciting and handsome, but bars were not my scene and I did not know how to start a conversation with a stranger in a room where you could hardly talk. I just shuffled past the men until I reached the far end.

When I reached the opposite end, someone was suddenly talking into my ear. "I haven't seen you here before," the voice said.

I turned my head when he pulled his away. He was twice my age and had the look of a man who worked out, with thick solid biceps that intimidated a skinny college kid like me.

"First time here," I shouted back over the hubbub and music.

He smiled knowingly of experience, looked over my body, lingering on my crotch for a moment, then looked back to my face, and said, "Well, welcome!"

As I replied, "Thanks," he looked back at my crotch again, and when he looked back at my face, I smiled. It was more of a nervous smile, but I guess he took it as interest and permission because he just unabashedly reached his hand over and started rubbing my cock through my pants.

All Male True Experience: An Unrelenting Urge

 By: 69andmore

It’s that familiar feeling that comes upon you suddenly, out of nowhere. If you are bi, and married, like me, well, you know what I mean - that sudden, unexplainable urge to have sex with a man, to satisfy a desire. It invades your thoughts, and experience has taught you it won’t go away, won’t allow you to think clearly, rationally, until you surrender to it.

All I knew was that once the craving overpowered me, I was horny for cock and needed a fix, to give in to the hedonistic power it had over me and find some sort of man-sex for relief. Trying to fight it off was futile. 

I was feeling that way today, and to make matters more complicated, it was Father’s Day. Why did I have these re-occurring thoughts again badgering me, especially today of all days?

Although my sex life with my wife was good, and despite knowing that because it was my special day I’d probably be getting some that night, ambushed by the thoughts of a hard cock, a hot ass, and a hot load of cum, I knew what I had to do.

After making my cell phone ring, I went upstairs and told my wife that my buddy Joe had called to tell me his car had broken down and he needed a ride. Of course, that wasn’t true, but my wife and Joe never talked so I knew she’d never hear differently.

With an excuse to get out of the house for a bit put in place, I jumped in my car and headed off to a specific adult book store. I had chosen this particular one purposely because it was fairly new in the area and I had heard it offered booths with glory holes – something none of the others in the area had - and that men went there to use them with other men. Using a glory hole was going to be a new experience for me, but one that I was quite excited about.

That excitement grew as I pulled into the parking lot, and continued to grow as I entered the bookstore, paid the attendant cash in exchange for tokens, and started to make my way to the back area where the booths were located.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I heard the sounds of the sucking and fucking emanating from the porn playing inside some of the occupied booths. The empty booths stood with the doors open, as a small number of guys hung out cruising, some walking around, and some leaning against the walls or booths.

I didn’t have the time or need to cruise; all I needed was to have a little man-on-man sexual activity so I could regain control of my life again, and I immediately walked into the first open booth and closed the door.

After locking the door, I dropped some tokens in the machine and pushed a few buttons until I came across a movie that looked good. It was a gay porno and watching it made my mouth water. I looked around and saw the hole cut in the wall between my booth and the next one, and my cock twitched in my jeans.

It wasn't too long before I heard someone enter the booth next to mine and lock the door. I looked down through the large hole in the wall and was barely able to make out a pair of legs and sneakers in the darkness of his booth.

As I continued to peer through the hole, the stranger dropped some tokens into his machine and then dropped his shorts and underwear to the concrete floor.

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: A Dying Request

By: Tommyhawk1

 

My last four patients had been sound asleep. I thought the fifth was, too, but the squeak of my cart's wheels caused him to turn his head my way, so I smiled and pushed the cart on in. "Book or magazine, sir?" I offered.

"No thanks," he said, turning his head toward the window. A soft groan escaped his lips.

Depression, I decided; plenty of sick people start giving up on life. A bit of lively conversation ought to cheer him up; after all, I was a volunteer.

He was looking out the window at a beautiful summer day. "It's a beautiful day outside, isn't it?"

"I guess," he said lethargically.

"My name is Cody," I told him. "I'm a senior at Whitman High this year, and I'm volunteering here at the hospital; so, you'll be seeing me around here."

"Not me," he said. "I'll be gone by then."

"Oh, you heading back home tomorrow?"

He turned his eyes to me and I realized that he was young and damned good-looking. His hair was mussed and uncombed, dark locks in tangles on his head, and his skin was an olive tone courtesy of some exotic mixture of ancestry. His eyes were dark black orbs that shone above a heavy set of eyebrows. And yet he wore an air of heavy sadness.

He looked at me in turn, seeing me in my clean white shirt and dark blue pants. I wore an armband that marked me as a volunteer at the hospital. "No," he said to me. "Not back home… except the home we all go to one day, sooner or later," he sighed. "At least I know it's coming."

"Huh?" I said. Then it hit me. "You mean..."

He nodded soberly. "Yeah. They should have told you. I have a defective aorta. Every time my heart beats, it rips a little wider. By this time tomorrow, I'll be..." He lifted one arm and made a sort of "whoosh" movement "...out of here."

"But... can't they operate?"

"Not on this," he said. "No time."

I was foundering. "But you're just... here in this room. There's no machines or anything."

"I didn't want them," he said. "They couldn't do anything but prolong things. I could stay alive as a vegetable indefinitely. I chose instead to let it happen. My choice."

If I'd been foundering before, I was drowning now. "What about your family?" When someone is dying, the family is always there, aren't they?

"Mom couldn't handle it," he informed me. "Dad took her home; he'll be back in an hour or so."

"That's... that's too bad… that your mom can't be here," I said.

"Can you stay with me for a few moments?" the man asked, putting his hand on my arm. "It's kind of lonely... waiting to die."

"Sure, sure," I said.

The man wiped at his eyes. "Could you close the door? You know, in case I start crying or something."

"Sure, sure," I said and hastily complied, shoving my cart back out into the hallway and closing the door after it. Just old books and months' old magazines, hardly items worthy of pilferage; we passed them out to the patients and gathered them up again when the patients were done with them.

"Come sit," he said, patting the bed's edge.

I did so, though it was kind of crowded like that.

"You're a nice-looking guy, Cody," the guy said to me. His hand went back onto my arm, clamping on; not too tight, but it wasn't going to let me go real fast, either.

"Thanks," I said. "So, uh, what's your name?"

"Ace."

"Ace?"

"Short for something I don't like to remember," he went on. "You're new here, aren't you?"

"First day," I agreed.

"I thought so. I'd have noticed you if you'd been here a while. Given that this is most likely my last day on Earth, can I ask a favor of you?"

"Sure, sure," I said again; it was turning into my default phrase.

"You wouldn't mind if it's kind of a peculiar request?"

"Of course not," I said. A dying man's last request, of course, I'd go along with it! "What is it?"

"You see, on the whole, I'm not afraid of dying; I've lived a pretty good life overall, you know?"

"Sure, sure." I was sounding like a broken record.

"But there is one thing I would really like to do, just once, before I die."

"What's that?"

"Cody?"

"Yes?"

"This is going to sound weird."

"That's all right," I assured him. "Just say it."

"Well it's kind of hard to say to someone, but, well I've always had this, well, sort of secret… craving to, well…"

"To what?

"To try it, see what it's like."

"Try what?"

"Well… oral sex… with a guy."

"Huh?" This I wasn't expecting. Take him to see a baseball game, maybe! "You want me to… to suck your..."

Straight Fiction: Poolside Attraction

 By: Bethyboo

 

The midday sun beats down as he watches her over his laptop. The splashing of people in the pool fills the air. He stares at the long length of her back, dimples just showing above her bikini bottoms. He sucks in a half breath; his fiancée is beautiful and he reaches to lazily run a finger from the waistband of her bikini, along her spine, stopping at the ties that stretch across, just below her shoulder blades. He moves them aside and frowns at the white strip, stark against her tanned back.

He unties the top, flipping the strings to either side and watches as she leaps up from the chaise, grasping her bikini top to her breasts, her eyes burning brightly with anger as she yells at him, "What are you doing?"

"Just trying to help you get rid of those tan lines," he frowns at her as her face turns crimson.

"What is wrong with you? There are people out here, who might see, and get the wrong impression." She reaches back, tying a knot in her bikini top so that he cannot do that so easily again.

Taken aback by her outburst, and a little embarrassed as several people stop to see what is going to happen next, he sets his laptop aside and rises, his six-foot frame towering above her. He stares down at her, watches as her lower lip does that little tremble it always does just before she cries. 

Frustrated, he blurts out, "You are such a prude; you even like to have the lights off when we have sex. What is wrong with you? Damn it! This isn't high school!" He turns and stomps off, keeping his eyes straight ahead. He enters the hotel, not even giving a glance back to see the tears in her eyes.

She stands and watches him leave, waiting for him to turn around, to apologize, and as his ass disappears through the door, she starts to shake. Is it anger or something else that makes the tears flow down her cheeks?

He enters the room, dropping his clothes along the way, and steps into the shower. He lets the spray stay cool, washing the anger from him, taking away the edge that momentarily flared up as he thought of his near-naked fiancée being ogled by the men at the pool. Damn it! He has needs and desires... and all she seems to have are rules and limits.

She looks up at the window of their hotel room and starts to smile as she realizes it has an unobstructed view of the pool. She licks her lips, anger giving her fortitude she didn't know she possessed. She reaches down and grabs the lotion, turns, and squares her shoulders. Marching up to the lifeguard stand she peers up at him, her eyes squinting in the sun.

"Excuse me, but my fiancé just left and forgot to put lotion on my back; I don't want to burn. Could you help me please?" She holds the bottle of lotion up in the air, standing on tiptoe and flexing the muscles in her ass. She knows she looks good, her long legs accentuated by strong calf muscles.

He tips his sunglasses up and looks down at her, a slow smile spreading, "Of course!" He descends the ladder and stands mere inches from her. He peels the bottle from her fingers and spins her around, the sensation of his fingers on her shoulder making her shiver in the heat of the day.

He is so tall he casts a shadow over her. She is a little nervous, quivering as his hands start to spread the lotion, up and down, small circles, sensuous as he lingers, his fingers pressing lightly at the sides of her breasts. She gives a languid stretch as he leans against her, his cock, his hard cock, pressing to her lower back.

All Male True Experience: Asshole in the Park

By: Unknown Author

I'm twenty-one, bisexual, and have a girlfriend, whom I have been with for six months. Prior to being with her, I had had sex with two other women, and a lot of other guys – other horny teen guys, anonymous hookups, etc. – the number of guys outnumbering girls because it's just a lot easier to get sex from another guy. My girlfriend doesn't know I'm bisexual, though, and I had decided that while I was with her I would be faithful and not have sex with other men.

I really didn't think it would be that difficult, since I'm more into women than men (I'm attracted to, turned on by and like sex with both equally, but the love and emotional stuff I only feel for women), but, after just six months of not having any sexual contact with another man, I suddenly found myself getting hard several times a day just thinking about it. When that happened, I'd jerk off thinking about other guys, and mostly thinking about and picturing their asses.

I've always considered myself an ass man - there's just something about a man's ass that excites me. Whenever I see a man from behind, I get so hard, especially when I see a guy bent over in a locker room, with his balls hanging and his cheeks slightly open, revealing his asshole. To me this is very arousing, because when you think of all the areas of a man that can arouse sexual excitement in another man, the asshole reflects the most private part of a man.

Sure, a man's cock is a source of sexual arousal too, but most men don't have a problem exposing their cocks around other guys - like at urinals, in the locker room, online, and some guys, especially horny teen guys, will even jerk off in front of each other – so it's not private in the same way. Let's face it, there's no more private part of a man's body than his asshole and, to me, if a guy bends over and exposes his asshole, he's exposing the most private part of himself.

It's the casualness in which it's done in the locker room, or the willingness on his part during sexual encounters to expose his most private place that turns me on, and I'd now like to share an encounter which illustrates exactly what I am talking about.

With the ever increasing thoughts of sex with guys creeping into my head, finally I decided I just couldn't go without any longer, even if it meant being unfaithful to my girlfriend, so I decided to head to a local park (known in certain circles to be a cruising spot for guy-on-guy action) to see if I could satisfy my desire.

It was a Monday night when I went to the aforementioned park. I was fully aware that I'd have a better chance of finding some action there if I had gone late on a Friday or Saturday night instead, but I had made up my mind that I wanted some man-sex ASAP and went in the hopes that I might get lucky anyway.

When I arrived it was still fairly early, just before dusk, and so I wasn't all that surprised to find that there were no other cars there. However, even though the lot was empty, I knew from past experience that guys still went there during the week, too. I also knew a lot of guys would just drive in and then leave again if there were no other cars there, but if they saw even just one car they would be more likely to stick around - so, I backed into a spot in the gravel lot and waited.

After waiting for half an hour or so, and just contemplating leaving, a truck pulled in and parked to the right of my car, backing in several spots away from me. I could see that there was only one person in the truck and it was a man. In these instances my heart begins to race and my cock begins to pulse in anticipation of a sexual adventure, but I think that happens to most guys in these types of situations.

After several minutes he opened the door of his truck and got out. As he closed the door I noticed him reach down with one hand and give his crotch a quick and casual rub, which was always a good sign. I watched as he walked away from the truck and headed across the lot toward the entrance of the path that led into the woods.

Just before he entered the path, his head turned over his shoulder and looked back at my car. I, of course, was looking right at him just for that reason, to see if he would look back; a universal code in cruising spots like this to find out if you are both there for the same reason.

In these situations I always wait a few minutes so as not to appear overly aggressive, plus I don't want to end up walking right behind the guy; I prefer to wait until he is ahead a bit so that I can wander down the path and just 'find' him, as if I had just stumbled upon him on my walk.

After waiting a couple of minutes, I got out of my car and headed across the lot to the path. As I got a ways down the path, I saw the man from the truck standing just to the side of it, leaning against a tree in the near distance. It was dusk now, and the cover of the trees made the area appear darker, and I ducked into the trees and moved a bit closer to check him out.

Within a few seconds he removed his t-shirt, and I watched him begin to run his hands across his chest and down into the waistband of his shorts - he had obviously spotted me ducking into the trees and knew I was watching him. My heart began to pound, and I stepped out onto the path again and began to slowly approach. He turned and looked at me and indicated his interest with a smile, while slipping his hand all the way into his shorts and giving his cock a good grope.

Seconds later I was standing face to face with this man. He was an attractive guy, about six feet tall and, I guessed, around two-hundred pounds; not fat, just solidly built. He had on a baseball cap and had a scruffy five o'clock shadow, and looked to be in his mid-forties, more than twice my age. I'm not usually into older guys, but at this point in time I didn't care, I just wanted cock! I was just happy that he was in-shape and attractive – but, honestly, even if he had had a beer gut and average looks, I probably would have still hooked up with him… desperate times and all.

Still groping himself, I stepped closer, and when I did, he removed his hand from his crotch, reached out and grabbed a handful of my crotch and gave it a hard squeeze. Already swollen, my cock grew completely hard from his touch. I then reached out to get a feel of his, with him moving his hand away from his crotch to allow me to touch it.

I moaned both from another guy feeling my dick and from feeling another guy's dick again. We silently stood and felt each other up for a few moments, and then he removed his hand, squatted in front of me, and pulled my shorts and underwear down.

When he was met with my stiff seven-and-a-half inch uncut cock, he commented on my "nice, hard, young dick" and then he turned his ball cap around backwards, leaned his head in, opened his mouth and fully took my cock all the way into his throat. He pulled back and then took me deeply and slowly back into his throat again and then started bobbing up and down on it in a nice rhythm.

All Male Fiction: Package Deal

By: Ed

I was out doing my delivery route the other day, and it was a particularly hot day. I'd spent my lunch hour parked over at the University, watching a crew of young studs practicing soccer. They were all stripped down to their shorts, so I got a good look at dozens of sleekly muscled bodies in action. There were all types; slender, burly, hairy and smooth, all working hard, gleaming with sweat.

By the time I was finished with my lunch, I could've lined them up and gone down on all of them, but that wasn't going to happen, obviously. Instead, my beeper went off and I had to hot-foot it back to the warehouse for a delivery order that was due across town in an hour.

Well, I pride myself for being on time, so I damn near flew back to the warehouse and had my order loaded in record time. Then, I hit the traffic lights all right and managed to pull up into the driveway of the house I was looking for a good twenty minutes ahead of my scheduled time. My buddies don't call me "Fast Eddie" for nothing, you know.

I jumped down out of the driver's seat and whipped open the doors of my van. I got the boxes loaded on a dolly and was soon up on the porch. I rang the doorbell, ready to greet another satisfied customer, but nobody came to answer. I rang again; still nothing. That sort of pissed me off, this being a big fucking rush and all, so I started pounding on the door with my fist. All of a sudden the door flew open and this dude was looking me over like I was the last person he wanted to see.

"Delivery," I said, taking the guy in.

He had a towel wrapped around his narrow hips, like maybe I'd gotten him out of the shower, but that wasn't the case because his skin and hair wasn't wet. I was admiring his flat gut when I figured it out. There was the unmistakable outline of a major hard-on pulsing under the towel, leading me to believe I'd interrupted the dude in the middle of a J/O session.

"Come on in," he said gruffly, standing aside and holding the door open for me.

I rolled the dolly into the house, casually brushing the guy with my hip as I passed. Hell, I could feel the heat radiating off that big old bone, even through all that fabric. No doubt about it, it was still seriously hard. The smell that hung in the air around the guy also led me to believe that he'd been pretty far down the road to happiness when I stopped him. Hell, the dude reeked of sex!

"Where do you want it?" I asked, giving him a big smile. I'd already thrown a rod myself, just thinking about a tumble with the guy in the towel, so if he was interested, there was no doubt that I was of a similar mind.

I caught the man giving me the once-over as I turned to take the delivery into the rear of the house. He must've liked what he was seeing, because when his towel sort of 'accidentally' slipped off and his sword swung up front and center, he didn't even try to pick it up.

All Male True Experience: Cock Service

By: GloryHoleCockWorship

The one thing you need to know about me is that I love to suck cock! I get my greatest pleasure from orally servicing men. So much so that the need or desire to have my own cock sucked is pretty much non-existent. Just as long as I have a hard cock in my mouth, I'm satisfied. My hand can and does take care of my own when I want or need to cum.

Earlier today, I was at a place I visit almost every single day to satisfy my oral lust: a local porno shop with glory hole booths. In one cubicle amongst a maze of dark cubicles, I was in my usual position: on my knees, waiting for the cock of a stranger in need of servicing to appear through the hole in the wall.

That stranger soon arrived, just like I knew he would, and quickly offered his cock and balls to me through the glory hole. I immediately began gliding the wet tip of my tongue over every inch of his cock and balls. His cock soon swelled, becoming fully erect in no time.

Straight Fiction: Sometimes You Just Really Need to Get Fucked!

By: Brindle Chase

Life gets so hectic at times that I forget to relax and enjoy it. I'd stop to smell the roses, but it seems like there is a bill collector behind every bush. Work and no play makes me cranky, and I didn't have time for relationships.

We all feel that need to get laid, to let off some steam. I'm not a slut, but I can be, when I need it badly enough. Like everyone else, I have a threshold and when I hit that cap, I need to get some. This was one of those times.

A flat tire on the way to my dead end job was just the start. My boss had reamed me for something I wasn't even involved in. I lost one of my best clients and my favorite team got eliminated from the playoffs.

Enough already. When I got home and made a cup of noodles, and the depression and loneliness hit, I decided I needed to get fucked.

I went to my wardrobe and picked out a teeny tiny miniskirt and matched it with a spaghetti strapped satin halter. Only a moron wouldn't see my outfit as a desperate plea for some cock.

I did my hair in loose spirals, and did my makeup in lady of the evening fashion. I looked pretty good when I took the time, so I did. I even added glitter. Some lucky son of a bitch was in for a wild ride.

On a whim, I went driving downtown until a flashing neon sign caught my attention. There were people lined up down the block waiting to get in, so I figured it was a hot spot. Perfect.

The place was jumping. Heavy pulsing music blasted to a thumping bass drum while bodies thrashed and ground against one another in a blur of flesh on the endless dance floor. It was wall-to-wall with people wanting the same thing I did.

I turned down three offers of various indulgences before I could even worm my way up to the bar and order a cosmopolitan. I needed some liquid courage first and then I'd decide just how low I felt like setting the bar.

I'm not that picky. As long as he's clean, his looks don't matter all that much, but it's always nice if he just happens to be attractive too. Gentlemen were my favorites, but tonight I just wanted some bad boy to ring my bell. This place was crammed with them. I felt like a kid in a candy store with a crisp one hundred dollar bill.

Every seat in the place was taken, so I took up residence by a pillar near the main dance floor. The industrial techno just kept going and I couldn't tell when one song ended and another began.

Another three come-ons failed to impress me, when I noticed a guy watching me. He was sitting at one of the booths along the far wall. The flashing lights made it damn near impossible to see what he looked like, but I was so horny by then, I decided he was the one.

I ducked and weaved my way through the undulating crowd and stopped in front of his table. His eyes went up and down me like a leopard eyeing its prey. I flashed him a smile and slipped into the booth next to him.

He had longish dark hair he kept in a shag, a neatly groomed goatee and sexy full lips. I couldn't place his nationality, but he was definitely part black. I couldn't tell what color he was in the alternating blue, red and green lights, but he was a few shades darker than me.

"What's a sweet young..."

"Shut up," I said, cutting him off. I didn't want him to ruin it with a stupid pickup line.

He arched an eyebrow and gave me a 'what the fuck' look, but I simply scooted closer. The little round table at the booth's center was perfect. I was so needy, I wanted him right there. Throwing caution to the wind, I met his look with a catlike grin.

"Don't talk, just fuck me."

He seemed shocked by my statement for a split second or two and then said, "Uh, that works for me," and then tried to introduce himself.

"I don't want to know your name. I want your cock, nothing more," I yelled over the music. A name to go with his face would make it personal. This was raw animalistic need, not a prelude to something more meaningful.

I moved my hand to the fly of his pants and found his cock beneath the slick fabric. It grew hard almost instantly as I stroked it. My eyes spoke my desire as I gazed at him.

"Just fuck me, here. Now."

I leaned into him and he took my lips with his. He was probably completely confused that he didn't even have to work for it, but I didn't care. I hadn't picked him for his ability to sort out a puzzle. The dilemma I had presented him with was quite simple: Fuck the girl or don't fuck the girl.

His hand slipped up my top and crushed my tit, kneading it and I purred. I loved to be manhandled sometimes. I slid across his legs and straddled his strong thighs.

He worked my breast out the top of my halter and sucked my hardened nipple into his warm wet mouth. I loved it. The silk fabric was tight across my tit, holding it in place for him, like an offering.

I couldn't believe I was doing this. The booth was in the darker back of the bar, but there were people all around. My pussy was all the wetter for the anxiety I felt that others might see me fuck this stranger.

Four snaps later, I had the fly of his tight jeans open and his thick, dark hard-on slid into my hand when I pushed his boxer briefs down. He was smoldering hot and I wasted no time. Who knew how long it might take for someone on staff to notice us. Getting thrown out, or worse, arrested, only added to my excitement.

All Male True Experience: Rest Stop Pick-up

By: Unknown Author

In the years since graduation, my college buddy and I have kept in regular touch through emails, instant messages/texting, and the occasional phone calls. We had fucked around in college – just trading blowjobs - and continue to do so each and every summer when we spend a week together at his cottage.

The drive to his cottage was long, about seven hours, but I enjoyed driving, and it was worth it to get away for a week every summer to do some fishing… not to mention some cocksucking! There was one summer years ago that will always stick in my memory, and I'd like to share it with all of you.

This particular year, I couldn't get a full week off of work when I needed it, so I was only going to be staying at my friend's cottage for four days.

The trip required the use of a combination of roads and highways. I had been driving for about five hours and had another two hours to go before I arrived at my destination, and needed to piss really badly. Since I was on the highway at this point, I was praying that a rest stop would be coming up very soon. I was also a bit hungry, so the rest stop would provide a place to grab a quick bite to eat as well.

Besides needing to piss and get something in my stomach, I was also feeling very tired. Even though I had made this trip before, I hadn't slept very well the night before and thought that perhaps I just might take a little catnap at the rest stop before making the last leg of my trip.

I pulled into the rest area and pumped some gas into the tank of my car, paid for it, and then moved my car into a parking spot and headed across the lot to the cafeteria-style restaurant to grab something to eat. Before going to the food counter, I headed for the men's room to relieve about half a gallon of piss.

I walked into the men's room and headed to the urinals. I went to the closest one, pulled down my fly and reached in, and pulled out my cock to drain the hog. As I began to piss, another dude came in and took up at a urinal two down from me, leaving one urinal between us. I glanced at him and he glanced at me as well, and I nodded and he returned the nod and then his eyes darted down and focused on what I was holding in my hand.

Now, I have picked up guys in a men's room before, but this was the first time I was not on the prowl and just draining an overworked bladder, so I ignored his obvious interest and returned my eyes to my own cock and finished pissing.

As I shook my dick a few times to get the last few drops of piss off the head, I heard him sigh. At first, I thought it was a sigh of relief as he began to relieve himself, but there was no sound of piss hitting the porcelain of his urinal so I glanced over. He smiled and then looked down at my dick and licked his lips, making it obvious what he was after. At this point though, all I really wanted was to get some food in my belly and take a catnap in my car so I could get back on the road again and make it to my buddy's cottage.

Even so, the interest was nice so I thought I'd give the guy a little thrill before I tucked my cock back into my shorts. I backed away from the urinal a bit and turned my head towards him to make sure he was getting a good look, and of course, he was looking and again was licking his lips. I gave my cock a few shakes and then one loving stroke. I was going to give him a few more seconds of a show but someone else came in.

Straight Fiction: Up in the Air

By: Unknown Author

The last month had been hell. It all started a little over four weeks ago in New York. My boss was supposed to go to Paris to help get our partner company up and running with our new system. A few days before he was supposed to leave, he came to me and said, "You're going to Paris in my place. The top guys think you know the system better and they want me here for other things. I have booked the flight already. You leave Monday, for a month."

He wasn't giving me a choice, and I can't say that I was that thrilled. My girlfriend and I had been kind of on the rocks for the last month, so taking off to Paris, the 'city of love,' especially without her, wasn't exactly the best timing and would not go over very well with her, that I knew.

But then he continued and said, "I was planning to take my wife, so I paid out-of-pocket and upgraded my business class ticket to first class and purchased another first class ticket for her."

Hearing that, I suddenly started to like the idea of going to Paris for a month. After all, with two already paid for tickets I could take my girlfriend with me. This could be just the thing I needed to resolve our current 'disagreement.' I mean, what woman wouldn't love her boyfriend to death if he took her to Paris for a month, flying there in first class no less!

But then, my boss kept on talking and said, "But since I won't be going now, I changed those two tickets back over to one business class ticket for you."

"Great," I said feigning a smile. He slapped the ticket down on my desk and then left my office.

As my door closed, the smile disappeared and I became sullen. How the hell am I going to tell my girlfriend that I am going away for an entire month… to Paris... and, without her? I thought, and then it hit me: I'd just call the airport and change the one business class ticket into two coach tickets. Even if I had to pay a bit, it wouldn't be much, and would be well worth it to bring my girlfriend along and keep the peace.

After being on hold forever, I finally got through to an agent and was promptly told that that the ticket couldn't be changed. "I don't understand. It was already changed once from two first class tickets into one business class ticket. Why can't you change it to two coach tickets? I understand I may have to pay something," I replied.

"It's not that easy, sir," I was told. "The entire coach section on that flight is booked."

"I see," I grumbled. "Well, can I get another business class ticket, then?"

There was clicking on a keyboard. "I'm sorry sir, business class is all booked now as well." More clicking. "I can exchange your ticket for two first class tickets on that flight, if you'd like."

"How much would that be?" I asked. She told me and you'd have to be rich to afford those… but I guess that is why they call it first class. "Out of my budget," I grumbled.

"Well, let me see," she said as she worked her keyboard again. "I can exchange your business class ticket for two coach tickets on our next flight, which departs Tuesday morning at 10am."

"Tuesday morning? That's no good. I have to leave Monday. Are you sure there is nothing available, other than first class, on any flight departing on Monday?"

"I'm sorry sir, Tuesday morning is the first flight to Paris we have that still has available seats in coach and business class. But you will have to book right now before all the seats are sold."

"No, that's ok. I'm going there on business, and, as I said, I have to leave Monday. Thanks anyway," I said and hung up.

When I told my girlfriend that evening that I was going to Paris without her, and tried to explain what had happened and how I had tried to get her a ticket but couldn't, she exploded. "It is so indicative of our whole relationship! You probably didn't even try to get me a ticket! Have a great time by yourself!" she screamed and slammed down the phone in my ear.

She wouldn't talk to me for the rest of the weekend, refusing to take my calls or answer my emails. I even tried to explain again through emails and on her voicemail, but obviously all she heard was 'I'm going to Paris for a month and I don't want you to come with me.' It wasn't like I had any choice in the matter. If I had refused, I surely would have been fired, so, angry girlfriend or not, I left for Paris on Monday morning as planned.

You would think that a twenty-eight-year-old American guy could have a good time in Paris, but the people were rude. The people I went there to help were rude; the people in the hotel where I stayed were rude; the people in the restaurants, coffee houses, and even on the street were rude; because I could not speak a word of French, and because I was obviously American, they were rude. When it came time to go home, I was so ready.

And now, here I sat, in a chair at the airport, waiting for my flight to board and take me home, finally. There were a handful of other people sitting and waiting too, chatting, or napping… and one guy playing a video game on his phone – a game that had the most annoying sound effects and was driving me nuts.

About fifteen minutes later, as I was concentrating all my will power to stay seated and not go over and smash the guy's phone, two more people walked in and sat directly across from me. There was a man, older, about fifty, and he was all business. He had a cell phone glued to one ear and a handheld in his other hand. He sat down and talked to whomever it was on the phone. They were obviously discussing some sort of business deal and it was very intense. The other person was a woman, whom I quickly figured to be his wife given the closeness to which they sat… and the wedding rings they both wore. She looked to be in her late thirties and was very pretty.

Moments after they sat down, she stood and removed her coat, sat again, and laid it across her lap. Since she was the only remotely interesting thing around, and a nice distraction from the din of that video game, I studied her closely. She had long wavy brown hair and gorgeous green eyes that would drive men wild, not to mention the sexiest, full, pouty lips coated in a lustrous, glossy red lipstick. She was wearing a blood red satin blouse that buttoned down the front, which matched her lipstick, and a black skirt that came to just above the knee with a generous slit up one side. There was a matching black patent leather wide belt around her waist. She looked amazing!

After several minutes of casually studying her, I expected her husband to get up and come over and hit me at any second, but he was turned away from her, talking intently on his phone. He had papers spread out on the seat next to him and was completely captivated by it all. He was in another world, so I kept on checking her out. It was then that I noticed a button on her blouse had popped open, and a black lacy bra was now partially visible through the opening. I always was a sucker for a woman in black lace lingerie, and I was getting so terribly horny. Perhaps that was because it had been almost two months since my last sexual encounter with my girlfriend, and no sex with anyone else in that time period, either, but I think it had more to do with the 34DD tits I was looking at.

Then it happened! She caught me looking! Instead of being angry and telling her husband, she just smiled. I smiled and turned away, feeling embarrassed… but that didn't last long. My eyes soon drifted back to her sexy mouth and those great, black lace covered tits! The more I looked, the harder I got. I was sitting there in a pair of 501 jeans and they were getting tighter and tighter in the front. She busted me again... and again... and again, and each time she did I would keep looking a little bit longer before looking away for a moment or two… it was starting to become a game.

She looked down finally and I figured she would button her blouse, but she didn't. Instead, she opened the only button above it and pulled her blouse a little further open. My cock throbbed in excitement and I swallowed hard. She smiled seductively and scanned my body. I was trying to hide my rapidly growing hard-on, but it was almost pointless. My jeans left little room for adjustment. Then she reached down, lifted her coat from her lap and placed it in the chair next to her. She sat there with her legs crossed and her outstretched foot lightly bouncing up and down. I drank her in and knew that my masturbation fantasy when I got home would be centered on her.

About ten minutes later she uncrossed and re-crossed her legs in the opposite direction. When she did this, her legs parted enough to show me, just for a fleeting moment, a pair of black lace panties. That was the final straw. I was now rock hard. My cock was literally aching with pent up frustration and desire, and I knew I wouldn't be able to wait until I got home to give it the relief it was crying out for. So, I stood, holding my carry-on bag in front of myself, and began to head to the washroom.

I hadn't walked but a few feet when there was an overhead announcement that my flight was boarding. I initially cursed in my head when I heard it, but as I kept thinking about what to do, I figured I'd probably have time to go in the washroom and beat a quick load out before the final boarding call, so I continued on my way.

Well, wouldn't you just know it: when I got to the washroom, there was an out-of-order sign on the door to the men's room! "Do you know where there is another washroom?" I asked one of the airport personnel that was nearby.

She told me where one was, but then asked to see my ticket. "Oh, you won't have time to make your way all the way there and back before final boarding," she said after she looked at it. "But, don't worry sir, there is a washroom on the plane you can use as soon as you board," she smiled.

I smiled back, thanked her and made my way to the gate. There was no way I was going to jerk off in the small airplane washroom with all those people around. Horny as hell and unable to get off, the icing on the cake of this horrible trip! God, this flight is going to seem extra-long, I just know it!  I thought as my cock still ached for relief.

As I took my seat on the plane, I looked around for the sexy woman from the airport but did not see her. My bad luck continued as the guy from the airport who had been playing his annoying video game took a seat one row over and one seat up from me. He obviously had a phone with 'airport mode' on it, because as soon as the flight was in the air he was playing that damn game again!

I tried to tune out the game, tried to forget about the woman, but I couldn't do either. My cock was now soft, but I was still horny as hell, and that video game was driving me insane. I had to get away from it! So, even though I didn't think I would want to jerk off in the airplane washroom, I decided to do just that. Perhaps if I did, that video game would be less irritating.

As I started to walk down the aisle I noticed the woman I had been ogling in the airport sitting several rows back. She looked up as I passed and smiled at me, and then glanced at my crotch. I could have sworn I saw her subtly lick her lips! I felt my cock stir and now couldn't wait to get in that washroom!

As I stepped into the small washroom and started to pull the door shut, there was some resistance. By the time I had looked behind me at the door to see what or who the problem was, the lady in red was pushing me forward and closing the door.