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All Male True Experience: Paying Rent

2026-02-08T22:07:00.005-05:00

By: Unknown Author

In my early twenties, I finished college and was now renting my first apartment. After a few months, I was behind with rent and ended up with my fifty-something landlord telling me I could be "his personal fuck toy" or move out.

I really didn't want to suck off and get fucked by my landlord. I mean, I was in my twenties, and he was in his fifties, my dad's age, but I really had no other choice but to comply, or else I would have been on the streets. (Moving back home was not an option.)

To be clear, he knew I was gay, and I wasn't servicing him instead of paying rent; I was servicing his needs in exchange for his allowing me to pay off owed rent over time.

He had a fat seven-inch cock and liked to use me roughly, call me names, and generally degrade and humiliate me. Although initially almost disgusted by the idea, I have to admit that once I started servicing his cock, I really enjoyed it, in part because he was 'making me' do it.

He would come around at least three times a week, some weeks every day, but my favorite was one particular Friday night, when he turned up at 2 am with a friend.

My landlord and his friend, also in his fifties, shot the shit while watching me as I stripped off my clothes – my landlord told me on day one that his fuck toy needs to be naked when servicing him.

I was rock hard when I slipped my underwear down and off, so turned on by the fact that my landlord was not only going to have me service him in front of his friend but make me service his friend, too, a total stranger.

Once naked, I got onto my knees and fished my landlord's cock out of his pants and began sucking on it. His friend quickly had his cock out and was stroking it as he encouraged me to suck his friend's dick, calling me names, such as cocksucker and faggot, just like my landlord did.

Soon, I heard my landlord's friend say, "Let me have some of that," and then my landlord was pulling my head off of his cock and directing it towards his buddy's. His buddy took over, grabbing my head now and pulling it down onto his cock. He groaned and said, "Yeah, suck that dick, bitch!"

I bobbed up and down on my landlord's friend's slightly smaller (about six inches) but also thick cock, making lots of slurping sounds.

The next thing I knew, my landlord had moved over next to his buddy and had angled his body so that his cock was touching his friend's. I knew what he wanted, and I did my best at trying to fit the two cocks in my mouth at the same time, but they were both so thick that I couldn't really do it. So instead, I went back and forth between them, literally making a popping sound, and I repeatedly popped my mouth on and off each of their cockheads.

I was so turned on feasting on these two hard cocks that I could've spent all night sucking them, and I actually cried out around my landlord's cock when his buddy pulled himself away from the action. However, a hard slap to my bare butt quickly told me why he had done so.

I moaned loudly around my landlord's cock as his buddy started stroking and then poking my hole with his fingers. Soon I felt the coldness of lube being pushed into my ass via a finger-banging, and then my back arched as I let out another loud moan around my landlord's cock as his buddy pushed his fat six-inch cock balls deep into my ass.

My landlord started to fuck in and out of my mouth as his buddy fucked in and out of my ass, and with both my holes being pounded at the same time, I lost it pretty quickly and started to cum, shooting my load without even touching my dick.

As I came, my ass muscles milked the cock in my ass, and I felt it throb, and then erupt inside me. My landlord's friend shot a huge load. It flooded my hole, leaking out and dripping down my legs.

Once he had come down, he slapped my ass and pulled out. He and my landlord switched places, and while he ordered me to lick his cum-slicked cock clean, my landlord took his place behind me, fucking me deep and hard, using his buddy's cum as lube while fucking it deeper into me at the same time.

When his buddy withdrew his now soft cock from my mouth, my landlord slapped my ass, pulled me backwards on the floor, and pushed my head down, ordering me to lick my own load of cum up off the floor.

Once I had completed that task, he yanked his cock out of my ass, grabbed me under the arms, and simultaneously pulled me up onto my knees while turning me to face him. He then rammed his cock down my throat and blasted his load down it.

Afterward, my landlord and his buddy lounged on the couch, talking about how they had just used my holes, referring to me as a faggot, while I fetched them a couple of cold beers.

My landlord, who I mentioned liked to humiliate me, made me remain naked and lie on the floor under my coffee table while they drank their beers and shot the shit.

A while later, my landlord's buddy wanted another blowjob, and my landlord snapped his fingers at me and said, "You heard him, suck his cock, bitch!" And, of course, I did.

He brought that friend over again about a month later for a repeat performance, and another time, he sent his friend to my door to use my holes one-on-one. After that, it was just my landlord who used my mouth and ass to drain his nuts.

This went on for the year that I lived there, and I definitely hated having to leave that apartment, but a job opportunity left me no other choice.

It's weird, in the time since I left that apartment, I not only find myself seeking out older men to have sex with now, but have also lost interest in having sex with guys my own age.

Recently, I went to a bathhouse and got used by a daddy while other guys, mostly younger guys, stood around and watched with their dicks in their hands. It was hot!

But that's a story for another time!

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All Male Fiction: Humiliation Games [Audio Story]

2025-07-10T13:21:00.001-04:00

BateBook Shorts - All Male Fiction: The Trick

2023-09-03T11:11:00.006-04:00

By: sausagewithgirth & Ryan Michaels

Jimmy’s teammates were tired of his cocky attitude. He acted as though the wins that got them to the meet were all due to him alone. So last night as he slept, his teammates used a stencil and permanent marker to play a trick on him.

The trick, however, had a very different outcome than they had planned. His teammates had simply wanted to ridicule him in the showers and locker room for a while.

Jimmy woke up early the next morning, though, and went down to the pool to get in some laps. He knew the opposing team would be there getting in some practice before that day's meet, and cocky as he was, he wanted to do his laps in front of them.

Jimmy always did his laps in the nude (it was an all-male university) regardless of who else might be there (that cocky attitude of his again), and did not know his ass was sporting a new look, so he did nothing to try to hide it.

Several members of the opposing team found it very interesting that Jimmy would be flashing a sign on his tight swimmer butt that invited men to use him like a whore. They figured that anybody advertising like that must want some immediate action.

All Male Fiction: Cockfighter

2023-03-27T10:11:00.003-04:00

By: BW & Ryan Michaels

Cockfighting - the purest form of male vs male sexual combat. Whether it's a slapping sword fight to try and make your opponent go soft or an erotic grinding to try and make him cum first; either way, it proves who has the stronger cock and who is the Alpha Male.

This is the story of how I became a Cockfighter.

I was eighteen years old and brand new in college. As a standout on the football field in high school, I was recruited hard by several colleges and finally decided on my destination - one of the powerhouse programs in the south - and I was more than ready to get started. I knew I had my work cut out for me to see the field as a freshman, but I was determined to do so; after all, they didn't recruit me to ride the bench.

We had just finished our first spring practice under the blistering sun and the lot of us were now in the locker room, shooting the shit as we stripped out of our football gear and headed off for the showers.

Tyler walked into the shower room last and grabbed the shower next to mine. He was the Alpha Male of the team, a junior linebacker who was 6'4 and 245 pounds. He ruled the team and kept everyone in line, but it was all about respect for him - he demanded it, and he got it.

We chatted a bit as we showered and then he looked at me and grinned. "Come on, rook. Time to initiate you."

"What are you talking about?"

"You'll see. Let's go."

I knew better than to say anything to Tyler; his word was law on the football team and we all knew it.

"Initiation time for the heralded rook! Circle up, boys!" he called out to the rest of our teammates in a loud, thunderous voice.

Our teammates quickly made a circle around the two of us in the shower room; I never expected what came next.

Tyler moved in front of me and I looked over his body, which seemed to be sculpted out of clay. His cock, bigger than mine, hung between his legs proudly.

"Ok, rook, you want your spot on the team? You want to be a part of our crew?"

I nodded.

"Then you're gonna have to earn it. You're gonna have to fight for it."

"Fight? Are you serious? I thought that was against the rules?"

Everyone laughed.

"Not fist fight, rook. We're fighting with our cocks."

"Huh? Our co… I'm not sure what you're talking about, Tyler."

"Cock on cock combat. Cockfighting!" he replied.

"Cockfighting?"

"Yeah. I guess you've never heard of it in the small town you're from, but we all do it here. All rookies get initiated this way, and since you're Mr. five-star wide receiver, you're first up on the chopping block."

I clearly had no idea what to do because I had never heard of such a thing in my life, and I just stood there, looking to Tyler for more.

"Ok, rook, here's how it goes: We battle with our cocks, until one of us goes soft or loses his load. Got it?"

I just nodded my head again, still not really having any idea how to cockfight.

"Come on, rook! Stroke that cock of yours and get it ready for battle. My beast is ready for another win!" Tyler said as he grabbed his cock and started to stroke it.

All Male Fiction: Mind Games

2023-03-19T09:54:00.003-04:00

This story can't be posted here. However, I have posted it elsewhere. If you'd like to read it, follow the link below to BateBook's WordPress blog.

Synopsis: After being knocked unconscious by a lightning strike, a man awakens a while later unscathed. That night he dreams that he is at the convenience store down the block buying munchies, and as he is paying for them, he thinks about how he would love to get a blowjob from the hot eighteen-year-old clerk. It was a great dream, but the next day some irrefutable evidence shows that it wasn’t a dream after all.

Curious about his ability to seemingly control the minds of others, he heads out and puts his powers to the test, first on the street when a male passerby calls him a faggot, and then in the men’s room at the local mall.

All Male Fiction: Mind Games

All Male Fiction: Blowjob Blues

2023-01-23T04:19:00.013-05:00

By: wpblue & Ryan Michaels

We sprinted the last several yards along the beach before dropping into the sand; both of us sweaty and panting, trying to catch our breath. We had met on the beach several weeks ago - Sunday morning runners who happened to take the time to chat - and have been meeting to run every Sunday morning since then.

His name was Kyle. He's 26 and is a self-employed fitness instructor. He had what I would describe as a dancer's build. He was thin, but all sinew and muscle. He had an incredibly sexy bubble butt and an enticing bulge that was prominent even when he was wearing baggy running shorts.

His voice was deep and sexy, and even his mundane chatter kept my interest. It was like the sound waves from his voice were covered in lube and they floated through the air to slide around my cock.

His body and his voice kept me in a perpetual state of lust when I was around him, but I did my best to keep myself in check. I hadn't told him I was gay; the subject had never come up, and if he suspected it, he has never said anything about it.

There was really nothing about me to suggest that I was gay (other than the way my eyes lingered on him, the way they undressed him). I have an average build, somewhat on the muscular side, and I am as masculine as he is, though in an understated way. He's definitely an Alpha male, whereas I am more subdued.

He was exceptionally quiet this morning, and I wondered what was on his mind. I turned onto my side and studied him. He was splayed across the sand, eyes closed, arms at his sides, legs spread. I watched the subtle movement of his stomach; studied the prominent bulge in his shorts. He opened his eyes and sighed deeply. He was clearly conflicted about something, and I decided to find out what was bothering him.

"Are you okay Kyle? You're not usually this quiet."

He didn't answer right away, just sighed a few more times before finally speaking. "I'm okay, I guess. But sometimes, life can be really fucked up, you know?"

"I hear ya. What's going on? You want to talk about it?"

Kyle sat up and faced me, his legs pulled up and spread. His eyes locked onto mine, making me feel like I was going to melt. "It's my girlfriend... I know I haven't said much about her before, it's like private stuff, you know? But lately, she's been like a cold fish when it comes to sex. She's cuddly and affectionate, but when I try to have sex, she backs off, tells me that's all I think about."

"Is it?"

"Is it, what?"

"Is it all you think about?"

"Hell no. Well, maybe. I mean, I need sex, you know? Fuck, maybe I do pressure her too much. I sometimes think I'm addicted to sex. I jack off in the shower in the morning and then have to jack off at night too before I go to sleep. Anytime I'm on the computer I end up jackin' off to porn, even if I've already jacked off a few times. It's like my dick is always hard - and I'm always thinkin' about gettin' off."

"Geez Kyle, maybe all that jerkin' off has her upset. Maybe she feels threatened."

"No, she's happy I take care of my own needs because she doesn't want to have sex. But I'm not happy about it; I still want sex, no matter how many times I've jacked off. I mean, that's part of being in a relationship, right?"

I nodded.

"And then, when we do have sex, she won't even go down on me. She'll, like, lick it, and get me all primed, but then won't suck it. She says it's too big, that the taste is gross. I don't get it; I go down on her every time we do have sex."

All this talk about his cock made me look at his bulge. And he noticed where my eyes were. He frowned slightly but didn't say a word.

"Okay Kyle, I get it. You're a horn dog. But do you like her enough to keep dating her, even if she doesn't want to blow you?"

"I don't know man. It's not just the blowjobs; it's the sex in general. I kind of regret asking her to move in with me, now. I mean, there's just no hiding when I get hard, and when I am, which is, like, all the fucking time it seems, I always try to get sex and she only ever says yes about once a week. Hell, I'm hard now just talkin' about always being hard."

Once again, I had to look. And yes, he was hard. I could see the fullness pressed against the material of his shorts. My thoughts were no longer on his girlfriend issue, but on the large hard-on between his legs; I couldn't take my eyes off it. When I did take my eyes off of it and looked at him, he was staring at me. He adjusted himself and closed his legs.

Just as he started to say something, it started to rain. The rain was heavy and Kyle grabbed me by my shirt sleeve and said, "C'mon, let's get in my truck," and we jumped up and headed to the parking area.

By the time we jumped in the truck, we were both soaked. He started the engine and the air conditioner blasted us with cold air. I start to shiver in my wet clothes, and he adjusted the temperature. We sat quietly, and then he said, "I'm sorry to lay all this on you man. I just needed to talk about it. I'll figure something out."

"No problem. I don't mind listening; I just wish I had some advice for you."

"Well, what would you do in my shoes?"

"I'm not sure you'll like my answer to that." As I said that, he lifted the bottom of his shirt and fanned it, trying to dry it out. I looked down and could see that he was hard again, or still.

Again, he noticed me eyeing his cock. I tried to pretend that I was not aware of his aroused condition, and continued with what I had to say. "Your sex drive is not going to go away, and her sex drive isn't going to increase. So, unless you just want to stay frustrated all the time, the only logical choice is to break it off. Until you find someone that has a sex drive to match yours - you'll just have to get it where you can get it."

"I know you're right; it can't work."

We sat quietly again. It stopped raining, and he turned off the engine and rolled the windows down to the cool outside air. When he turned his head back, he followed my gaze, both of us now looking at the outline of his swollen cock. I looked away, pretending to concentrate on something outside.

"You don't need to look away. I'm pretty sure you want to see what I'm packin'."

All Male Fiction: Intimate Strangers

2023-01-18T09:36:00.000-05:00

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: A Real Man

2023-01-13T09:58:00.000-05:00

By: Tommyhawk1

"Where the fuck were you?" Gordon asked gruffly as I hurried into the warehouse at ten thirty at night. He was a beefy, large man with a battered face and a ready vocabulary of foul language. Just the sort you’d expect to find working in a warehouse - hard work attracts hard people.

"I'm sorry," I responded sincerely. "I missed my bus." I took my bag from "A Different Light" and hurriedly stuffed it between two pallets of boxes in the warehouse. It would be safe there until I had a chance to sneak them to a better hiding spot, but I couldn't do that now. And showing them to Gordon was out of the question. Half his curse words were "pansy" or worse when he was searching for derogatory remarks to make about someone; "faggot" to him was worse than calling someone a "motherfucker," so I stayed firmly in the closet while at work.

"What you got over there?" he asked as I lifted my hand back. His huge biceps glinted with white crescents from the sheen of his sweat and the glare of the overhead fluorescent lights. His voice was like a god's, the heavy echoes of the cavernous warehouse reverberated back every syllable a dozen-fold.

"Oh, nothing," I said.

"Then haul your pansy ass over here and help me load this truck, motherfucker," he said.

He didn't know I was gay; he talked like that to and about almost everybody. I didn't dare let him see the "A Different Light" book bag, not as big and brawny as this guy was; he could snap me in two without thinking about it.

Taking a gay book and magazines to a job where you're closeted was stupid, I knew that, I knew I should have waited, but the bookstore was right on my way to work. Passing by "A Different Light" bookstore, I made the fatal mistake of peering inside to see what was displayed in the window. A look at my watch to verify I had a couple of spare minutes, and in I went, coming out much later than intended with not only the book but with two porno magazines. And, with my stash now tucked between a pallet of Tide and a pallet of Oxydol, it could wait until I could take it home and give it proper attention.

"Come on, move it, cocksucker," Gordon growled and I hastened over to him. He handed me half of a stack of lists and said, "We got three trucks to do tonight," and I groaned.

Our warehouse takes in the boxcars from individual factories, and from there we load the items ordered by individual supermarkets. We don't handle any of the chain stores, but there are a sizeable number of Mom-and-Pop places that need to furnish their customers with Pop-Tarts and Cheetos; I had plenty of work. In fact, with three trucks needing loading I had more work than I could handle.

Each store had a long page marked with the items and quantities they wanted. We tried to keep the supplies organized so we could go right down the list and grab in order, but in practice, it's never quite that easy. So, you run around until you get all the stuff for one store loaded, then you load that into a larger, plastic shipping box which is then driven over by a forklift and placed into the truck. Gordon drove the little forklift, which was about the size of a Volkswagen, but with only the two of us, he had to jump down from the forklift and trundle a trolley like mine, too.

Once we had the truck filled with the boxes, which contained boxes that contained boxes that contained the essential items for life, we'd move on to the next sheaf of orders. When we finished a truck, we could take a short break, then move the loaded truck out (Gordon did that as well. You have to have a special license and training to drive an eighteen-wheeler) and back another one in and we'd do it all over again. But a truck would take three to four hours to load. Three trucks meant overtime whether I wanted it or not.

So, I worked away on my list, fuming about the unfairness of it all. Damn it, I'd picked up a really butch issue of "Stroke" and couldn't wait to get home and do just what the magazine's title suggested. I had only glanced at the contents, seeing a heavily built, gruff man dominating a younger, more slender man - "Stroke's" favorite form of sex – and it caused my stomach to churn, imagining that big man dominating me, forcing me to take his cock into my mouth... okay, three boxes of salad dressing and I could take this trolley over to the shipping box.

Soon enough my mind was off of sex and back onto my job, because with nothing but cardboard boxes to select from you have to pay attention to what you're picking up. A store orders a box of Ronzoni spaghetti and if you give them American Beauty instead, they don't see it as being all right, you get a nasty restock order and three forms to fill out and sign and initial. One of those goes into your personnel file and they track your performance that way. Sucks. No wonder they had such a heavy turnover of workers on this shitty job.

So, I loaded up that shipping box and the next and the next, and time passed. Soon we'd be finished with the shipping boxes; we could then load the truck with them according to the driver's schedule, and then could take a half-hour break. Sitting and jawing with Gordon wasn't that bad if you let him call you names without flinching. He didn't really mean anything personal by it; it was just his way of talking.

I finished and looked over at Gordon's last box; it was only half-loaded. Hell, he was usually waiting on me, not the other way around. Maybe the guy was slowing down. I decided I could give him a couple of comments while I helped him finish his loading. A few of his choicer comments to me would work nicely, such as "They need to hire some real men to do this work instead of you faggots." I'd like to see his face when I used that one on him!

So, I went in search of him. The warehouse was big (it had to be) so it took some time for me to find him… right by the pallet of boxes of Tide! He had a big load of it on his trolley, and on top of the trolley was a big, white plastic bag… and my copy of "Stroke" was in his hands! And he was looking at the pictures!

All Male Fiction: Late-Night Hunger

2023-01-10T09:42:00.015-05:00

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

2022-12-27T02:19:00.019-05:00

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 Fiction: The Christmas Package

2022-12-08T02:46:00.036-05:00

By: Ryan Michaels
ryanxxx@hotmail.com

Warning: Although this story does not involve incest, it does involve a father watching his son having sex. If this type of theme offends you, do not read this story.

I couldn't help but smile as I placed the package in the trunk; I knew my son was going to be so surprised when he opened his Christmas present. It wasn't something he had asked for, but something I knew he was really going to enjoy.

Ben is eighteen years old and is an outgoing and personable individual. He is also athletic, and hard-working. Of course, as his dad, you might think I'm a bit biased, but there are many others who know him who would agree with my assessment 100%.

He is also an exceptional swimmer, and I was so proud when he was accepted to a large Ivy League university and asked to anchor the school's swim team. All of the years of getting up at four-thirty in the morning every day to take Ben to swim practice had paid off.

Still, the house felt so empty without him in it; raising him on my own for his whole life, the two of us have always had a very close relationship, and I have missed having him around.

That however was all about to change, at least in the short-term, as he was coming home for Christmas. He had been unable to get home for the Thanksgiving holiday, so I was looking forward to seeing him even more so.

I smiled as I pulled into the driveway and saw Greg's car. Greg was a friend of Ben's, and he had volunteered to make the trip to pick Ben up from school.

He was spending the holidays with us as well after his parents had decided to spend theirs at a tropical resort. It was Ben who had asked if Greg could spend Christmas with us, and I didn't mind at all; I didn't want anyone to have to spend it alone.

Getting out of the car, I grabbed the package from the trunk and tucked it inside my coat. It was Christmas eve and my boss had let us go home at four o'clock instead of six; this wasn't the norm on Christmas eve, but I wasn't complaining.

I looked at my watch as I made my way up the pathway to the front door. Even after stopping to pick up Ben's Christmas gift, it was still only 4:45.

Ben was always so curious about his Christmas gifts, so I quietly unlocked the front door in an effort to get his gift in the house and hidden away without him seeing me. I could have avoided this had I decided on his gift sooner. As it was, I took too long to make that decision thus ordering it online was not an option if I wanted it to arrive in time. Thankfully there was a specialty store in town that sold the particular item I was interested in.

As I opened the front door, I could hear Ben and Greg talking in the living room which was right to the left of the front entry. So, I quietly closed the door and made my way around to the back door instead.

As I slipped through the back door and into the kitchen, the faint aroma of burning hickory filled my nostrils, and I smiled; Ben knew how I always liked to have a fire on Christmas eve.

After stealthily making my way down the main floor hallway, I felt I would be able to get up the stairs without being noticed, provided the two boys had their backs to the living room doorway. So, I moved close to the wall and peered around it into the living room to check their positions, and my jaw dropped as my eyes took in the sight before me.

All Male Fiction: Halloween Treat

2022-10-29T12:30:00.000-04:00

By: Ryan Michaels
ryanxxx@hotmail.com

Based on a premise by CubShaman

There was still quite a bit of candy left in the bowl as Kyle locked the front door and shut off the porch light; he was happy the trick-or-treating part of the night was over because he had his own special Halloween celebration planned.

Kyle was an attractive and fit twenty-eight-year-old man who had been married to his high-school sweetheart for seven years. He'd never been able to celebrate Halloween in the way he was about to because his wife had always been home, and he knew she just wouldn't understand.

But this year things were different; his wife had gotten a promotion at work, a promotion which also came with a requirement to attend a yearly company seminar. And, as luck would have it, that annual seminar was scheduled to take place during the last week of October each year, and it was that circumstance that would finally allow Kyle to do what he had waited many a Halloween to do.

At last, the wait was over and Kyle didn't waste any time, excitedly rubbing his hands together before he made a dash for the kitchen.

Once there, he went over to a drawer, grabbed a knife, and then proceeded to carve a round hole into the side of the pumpkin that sat atop the kitchen counter.

Finished, Kyle placed the knife on the counter, took a step back, and grinned at his creation. He then shoved his hand into his pants pocket and withdrew a joint and a lighter. Waiting to smoke up until after he carved the hole in the pumpkin meant Kyle would have to wait just a little bit longer to get started with his special celebration, but he figured it would be a lot safer handling the knife BEFORE he got high.

After moving over to the sink and washing the roach down the drain, Kyle turned back to the counter where the pumpkin sat, and he grinned again as he looked at it once more. However, this time that grin barely had time to creep all the way across his face before he was unbuckling his belt, unzipping his fly, and pawing at the button on his jeans.

As gravity took his jeans down around his ankles, Kyle yanked his tighty-whities down to his knees revealing his already hard seven-inch rod that was already leaking clear liquid from its tip. That prick of his was uncut and thick, too, and he had big low-hanging balls to go with it, and he kept those big balls shaved and his bush trimmed short. He also had an ass that many gay men would probably just want to dive right into – with their mouths or cocks… or both! Unfortunately for them, Kyle was about as heterosexual as they come.

Kyle absentmindedly gave his balls a scratch and then his hands were just a blur as they moved to the counter where the pumpkin sat, and he grabbed it, held it in his hands in line with his twitching prick, and he thrust his member deep into its hole. He moaned as his hog was enveloped by the wet, cool insides of the pumpkin, and then he started to gently thrust in and out of it.

Kyle and his wife still had sex regularly – once or twice a week – but despite how much sex he was having, Kyle had always really enjoyed masturbating. However, until this night, he had only ever used his own hand to pleasure himself, and while he'd imagined that using a pumpkin would probably feel pretty good, he never thought it could feel THAT good!

Kyle knew pretty quickly that his slow thrusts just weren't going to cut it, not with the way his cock felt in that tight, wet, and slippery hole he had created for himself. So, he pulled his dick out and lay the pumpkin on the floor instead.

Kyle freed his jeans from around his ankles and then positioned himself above the pumpkin, and with his cock pointed at the hole he lowered himself down until his stiff, slimy dong reentered it. He wrapped the fingers of one hand around the stem and began fucking the pumpkin, hard, as hard as he could, harder than he had ever fucked his wife, filling the room with the sound of his balls slapping loudly against the cool, hard skin of the pumpkin.

Kyle was moaning and panting heavily in no time at all; he wasn't planning on cumming so quickly but with his hard pounding and his prick feeling so incredible going in and out of that slimy hole, he could already feel his load rising. He could have easily delayed his approaching ejaculation by slowing his thrusting down, but he really didn't want to at that moment; he had waited so long to try this, why hold back? After all, he knew, good as it felt, he'd be horny for some more pumpkin-pussy before the night was over, and that he'd be able to make himself cum again, too, so he kept going at it full throttle.

And then the doorbell rang.

Kyle just ignored it, but then it rang again. "Damn kids," he grumbled. "Halloween's over, at least for them," and he kept fucking the pumpkin.

And the doorbell rang a third time.

Kyle stopped thrusting and grumbled some more to himself as he reluctantly pulled his cock out of the pumpkin and slipped his tighty-whities back on. Moving at a quick pace, he made his way to the nearby bathroom and grabbed his bathrobe from the back of the door.

And the doorbell rang a fourth time.

"Hold on! I'm coming!" Kyle shouted as he was tying his robe while on his way to answer the door, the irony of the phrase not escaping him.

Kyle grabbed the candy dish and turned on the porch light; annoyed as he was, he wasn't going to deprive some kids of candy on Halloween. As he flipped the deadbolt and reached for the doorknob, he forced a smiled onto his face and opened the door. "Happy Hallowee-" Kyle stopped. He was expecting to see a kid or kids, but instead, he saw what he could tell was a grown man in a ghost costume.

The man in the ghost costume was holding a pumpkin bucket and held it out. "Trick-or-treat!" he said in a deep voice.

Kyle chuckled, "Aren't you a little old for trick-or-treating?"

"Halloween is for everybody," the stranger replied, his voice slightly muffled by the costume that covered his head and body. "Everyone deserves a treat on Halloween."

Kyle just chuckled and shook his head at the situation, and then went ahead and dropped a few pieces of candy into the man's bucket, if for no other reason than to get rid of the adult trick-or-treater so he could get back to his own Halloween treat.

Kyle wished the guy a happy Halloween and closed the door. He put the candy bowl back on the table, once again locked the front door and turned off the porch light, and then he headed back to the kitchen.

Kyle returned to the living room moments later, pumpkin in hand; he figured it would be more comfortable being down on the carpeted floor rather than the hard kitchen floor. He was still slightly hard, and after placing the pumpkin down on the floor, Kyle opened his robe, pulled off his underwear, got down, and began to fuck his pumpkin some more. His prick stiffened back up in an instant, and a happy chittering moan escaped him as he pumped it.

Kyle huffed as he built his load back up, he could feel sweat drip down his ass crack as he thrust. And then…

…the doorbell rang again.

Again, Kyle decided to ignore it, and again, the doorbell rang again… and again… and again.

"Son of a -!" Kyle started as he yanked his cock out of the pumpkin again. He stood up and closed his robe, leaving his underwear on the floor this time, and went to the door.

Kyle opened the door to see the ghost man was back. But this time another man was with him; a man in overalls and a paper mâché jack-o-lantern mask. Both men held out pumpkin buckets, "Trick-or-treat!" they said.

"You were just here! And the porch light off means no more candy! What am I saying? You're grown men, for fucks sake! Get out of here," Kyle snapped.

"But I didn't get the treat I wanted," the ghost man said.

"You didn't get the tre… look, both of you leave and don't come back, or I'll call the cops!"

"We didn't get the treat we wanted," the jack-o-lantern man said.

"For fucks sake!" Kyle cursed again and turned to grab the candy bowl. "Here! Take what you want and leave!"

"That's not what we want," the ghost man said pointing at the bowl of Halloween candy.

Kyle was more than annoyed and went to close the door in their faces, but the jack-o-lantern man stopped him from being able to do so. "We want our treat," he said.

"What treat? What the fuck do you want?!"

The ghost man lifted his sheet and the jack-o-lantern man unbuttoned his one still buttoned overall strap and the overalls fell down around his feet. The two men were both naked below their waists and their fully exposed cocks were now staring Kyle in the face.

"What the hell?!" Kyle said as he quickly looked away; he didn't want to see other guys' dicks! "Get the fuck out of here you perverts!"

"We want to join you," the jack-o-lantern man said.

"Join me? Uh, I don't know if this is some sort of prank, but I'm a happily married man… a happily married STRAIGHT man," Kyle informed as he again tried to close the door on them. "Go, now, or I'm calling the cops!"

"We want to join you," the ghost man repeated, and he pointed at the pumpkin Kyle had been fucking before they had interrupted him.

"How did you know I was…" he started as he too pointed over to the pumpkin. He didn't know why he asked that or why he even cared how they knew, but he suddenly felt different somehow and he remained standing there, calmer now waiting for the answer.

"We heard your cries of penis pleasure, brother," the jack-o-lantern man said. "Every year on this Hallows Night we answer the cries of the men who have thrust their phalluses into the sacred pumpkin. We come to them so that they may cum and share their seed treat with us."

"Uh, ok," Kyle chuckled. "What are you guys on?" he laughed.

"We are on a mission. Please, let us come in so that you may share your seed treat with us," the ghost man said.

"And so that we may also share ours with you, brother," the jack-o-lantern man added.

Kyle unwittingly looked down at their cocks, and saw that the men were both now fully erect. He then realized that his own had sprung back to life as well, and then he heard himself inviting the two men to come inside.

All Male Fiction: Relations

2022-10-08T11:18:00.004-04:00

By: Marcin904 & Ryan Michaels

I'd known Ed since I was a kid, being that we lived on the same street and I was friends with his daughter growing up. Eventually, I ended up dating his daughter and then, just last year, I married her, so Ed is now my father-in-law.

My wife and I had only been married for just over a year when my in-laws ended up getting divorced. Afterward, Ed up and moved to the edge of nowhere. I never could figure out why; I guess he just needed a fresh start or something.

Ed and I always got along well - I'd always felt we had some kind of connection, although I couldn't quite put a finger on it. I guess I just thought he was a very interesting man's man and I really liked being around him. I missed not having him around anymore, though, and today, finally, I decided to do something about it and pay him a long overdue visit.

Ed lived in a small cabin up near the tree line, and once I saw how beautiful the area was, I understood why he had decided to move to such a remote location.

I arrived a bit earlier than expected and was surprised to find the front door open. I guess I shouldn't have been; when you live out in the middle of nowhere, I suppose you do things like that. I opened the door to call out Ed's name, but he entered the room at the same time. He was wet and wrapped in just a towel. I'd obviously caught him just getting out of the shower.

"Oh, hey, you're early," he said when he saw me there. He told me to make myself at home, and then motioned to his coffee cup on the coffee table and asked if I wanted some. I declined and then he excused himself and left the room.

When he returned, he was clad in a pair of boxer shorts and a wife-beater. He plopped down on the couch, and when he did his cock flopped out the leg of the boxers, which was being strained around its girth.

With a grunt, Ed leaned back, propped one big foot up on the coffee table, and blithely sipped his coffee. He noticed me staring at him, smiled, and raised an eyebrow. It was the same friendly smile I'd seen for years.

But there I was, shrinking in my chair. I crossed my limbs, reversing his open stance. I forced myself to look everywhere else, anywhere but between my father-in-law's legs, but my traitorous eyes kept coming back to him.

Ed reached down to scratch himself, and he froze when his fingers grazed across the exposed flesh of his meaty head. He looked at me and a slow grin spread across his lips. "Whoops. Guess I gave you a little show," he chuckled.

My mouth went dry, but I managed to croak, "Doesn't look so little to me."

We sat there, staring across the living room at each other, in a long, uncertain silence. I could feel my heart thumping in my ears. My face must have been as red as an apple. Ed just kept smirking until he finally nodded and said, "Careful, son, you'll get him going."

My dick was hard in my pants now and my mouth was literally watering, and then I heard myself quietly saying the words, "What if I wouldn't mind that?"

Shit! Did I say that out loud? I thought. Shit! I did! I sat there wondering how my father-in-law would react to such a statement, almost afraid to breathe.

"Then you better get on your knees," he answered

I was relieved that he took it as a joke, and I laughed.

But he didn't.

"You poked the bear, son," he said and his cock jumped, growing down along his thigh. "Only fair he gets to poke you back," he finished, shifting to pop his wrist-thick whopper out through the fly of his boxers. He nodded to the floor at his feet. "Get down there and start sucking, and lose the clothes while you're at it."

Straight Fiction: I am ALPHA!

2022-10-07T08:34:00.004-04:00

By: Unknown Author

Girls want to fuck Alpha Males.

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

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

Yeah, I'm fucking her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bisexual Fiction: Triple Workout (Part 1)

2022-10-01T05:27:00.002-04:00

By: Unknown Author & Ryan Michaels

I punched in my security access code at the door to the company gym and pulled the handle as the buzzer signaled the ok to enter.

The gym had been open for a year now, and I started using it regularly about six months ago to try to reduce the stress levels induced by a fast-paced Information Systems career. I had made it a priority to get down there three days a week, and I was really feeling the benefits of a good hard workout at the end of a long - and usually hectic - day.

It was about 6:30 pm and I could hear the music pounding from the big blaster in the corner of the room. I looked around to see who else was there and saw one other guy already on the Stairmaster working up a sweat.

He looked up and gave a nod hello as I headed for a warm-up on the bike. I nodded back and set the timer on the bike for five minutes. Josh Somebody-or-another was his name, I recalled. We had chatted amicably on the few occasions where we had seen one another here in the evening. Most of the employees who used the gym used it in the mornings before work, but he, like me, seemed to prefer to use the stress of the day to keep the ‘edge’ on his workout.

He had brought a great mixtape with him, and I found myself enjoying the music as I relaxed into a rhythm on the bike. The five minutes passed quickly, and I walked over in front of the wall-to-wall mirrors for a nice languid stretch.

Josh had finished his time on the Stairmaster and walked over to the mat area where I was now standing, stretching my quads.

"Ethan, right?" he commented pulling up beside me.

"Yup, and you’re Josh?" I commented.

"Yes. Ready for a good session?" he asked assuming a similar pose with his leg distended behind him.

"Yeah, shitty day today," I lamented. "Lots of crap happening on the system."

"I know! I was bounced on and off the network today for the whole morning," he laughed. "Geez, you guys in I.S. sure make it hard for a guy to stay connected to the internet! How the hell do you expect us guys in the plant to search for porn when you keep bouncing us off?" he joked.

I chuckled at his comment and looked out the corner of my eye as he bent over to touch his toes. "Hmm… nice body. Nice arms. Nice pecs. Hard ass. Strong legs."

Where the hell did THAT come from? I thought. Oh well - I’ve always admired the human form and this guy was a good sample of how I wanted to look by the end of the year.

"Hey! I’d like to use some free weights today instead of the Universal. Seeing as how you’re here, would you spot for me?" he asked as he headed for the rack.

"Sure. No problem."

We took turns spotting and encouraging one another and bantered back and forth a little as we did our thing. We increased the weights each round, and we had both worked up a decent sweat within the half-hour. We then moved on to some dumbbell routines and decided to finish up on the treadmill.

As we got the treadmills going, he reached up and pulled his t-shirt up to wipe his very sweaty face. I couldn’t help but notice a very nicely detailed set of abs, and a totally smooth chest. I set the timer for twenty minutes and got into a good trot. Once again, we chatted about the company, our offices, and careers - the usual idle chat that you get into while you’re jogging on a mechanical device at the office gym.

The timer on the tortuous machine dinged and I staggered off to the mats to stretch out once more before hitting the showers and heading home. Josh pulled up beside me – sopping wet now - and proceeded to do the same. We laughed about the sweat we were dripping all over the mats.

"Wow, you’re a slave driver! My wife is usually the only one who can get me this hot and wet." Then he laughed as he looked over at the locked door and said, "With the two of us in here panting and grunting and groaning, if anyone passed by the door, they'd probably think we were getting it on in here."

The thought of what he was saying had an immediate effect on my crotch, as I chuckled and said, "Yeah, it certainly did sound like it," and then began concentrating my efforts on trying to put my overactive imagination into check when I noticed in the mirror that the front of his shorts had a bit of a tent there as well. I quickly stole another glance, and when I looked up, he was also looking at my reflection in the mirror. Our eyes met for an electric moment, and then we both glanced away.

"Well, I’m hitting the showers," he said as he straightened up.

"Yeah, me too," I said, and followed him out the door to the shower area.

All Male True Experience: Ball Camp

2022-08-22T05:11:00.000-04:00

By: Jeff C.

I was only eighteen and very nervous being at basketball camp with a whole slew of dudes from all over the state. I can’t remember when I wasn’t turned on by looking at a cute guy, and I knew I was in for a long two weeks.

The day we all arrived, we were split into teams of five, and the five of you were to do “everything” together. We all slept in small cabins with one team per cabin. Each team was then assigned a counselor (college athletes to help with camp). Ours was named Chip and he was a stud that would make anyone drool just at the sight of him. Chip stood six-foot-three, blond hair down to his collar, dark, sparkling blue eyes, and a build that would make the best athlete envious. Chip was in charge of seeing to it that we got to the right places at the right time and keeping an upper hand on us at night.

The first night, Chip informed us that, in his opinion, the key to being a star athlete was to keep completely relaxed and always get a good night's sleep. He said he made it a practice to stretch and relieve tension every night. It sounded good to all of us, so we asked what his routine was. He showed us a few stretches and then told us that the best way to be sure we relieved all of our tension was to whack off twice every night before we went to sleep.

There was some apprehension, but finally, one tall black-haired stud named Rick pulled out his cock and started jacking. I soon followed suit, and everyone else did likewise, including Chip. I thought I was having one of my biggest fantasies come true, watching and jacking off beside these jocks.

All Male Fiction: A Dirty Jockstrap and a Dirty Fuck

2022-04-02T09:39:00.001-04:00

By: Unknown Author & Ryan Michaels

"Suck my dick, Shawn!"

"Why don't you kiss my ass, Billy!"

It had always been that way between Billy and me, goading one another on with sexual taunts. There was always a slightly dirty edge to our bantering - on my part at least. I really would've liked for him to kiss my ass, though not in the pejorative way I said it. And as for wanting to suck his dick...

Billy's parents had moved to the neighborhood when we were both in Junior high. We rode the bus together and quickly became friends. Billy had a swaggering, out-going personality that complimented his staggeringly gorgeous looks.

Billy's hair was the blackest I ever saw, and his eyes were dark and brooding, with a stabbing quality, self-assured.

On the afternoon of the mock insults I just quoted, his parents had gone to the cottage for the weekend and we were alone in his house. The verbal exchange was brought about by an argument over who was the better football team, the New York Giants or the New York Jets. We were also kind of buzzed on beer, which fuelled the insults further.

We weren't old enough to drink, but Billy's dad let him have beer, and we had already downed three each and there was no more left. Billy said that his friend's older brother would buy some for us, and he offered to go over and ask and go with the older brother to get us another six-pack.

After Billy left, I went over and looked at the family pictures that were scattered around his living room. In one photo of him, he was in his football uniform, and it had me drooling in seconds. Though I knew that basket showing at his crotch was mostly all cup, it still bulged enticingly. And his jersey didn't quite cover his flat belly, where I could see the deep V of his groin begin.

I knew he'd be gone at least twenty minutes since we lived pretty far out in the suburbs, so I went up to Billy's bedroom to see if I could find his cup. His room had a good man-smell to it, some sort of musky cologne and a faint odor of sweat. It felt erotic to be in the place where my sexy best friend slept, no doubt jacked off, and stood naked, perhaps admiring himself in that full-length mirror on the wall.

I went to Billy's dresser and opened one of the top two drawers. Seeing his white Calvin's folded and piled so neatly did nothing to get my mind off the subject. Opening the drawer next to it, about a dozen jockstraps were strewn inside, but no cups. I grabbed one of his jocks and put the pouch over my face and deeply inhaled. But, unfortunately, they smelled clean and freshly laundered.

But that gave me an idea…

I opened the closet, and, sure enough, there were Billy's dirty clothes. I found a few piss stains on one of his dirty pair of underwear and what looked like cum on one of his jockstraps. The aroma of man-sweat was intoxicating.

I had been aware of my jock fetish for some time now, ever since I first discovered their existence and had bought my first one. Standing there fondling and caressing the stud's underwear and jocks got me hotter than hell. I decided I had to have a quick jack-off session. It was risky, but I figured I'd have plenty of time to do it before Billy returned.

So, I stood in front of the full-length mirror and opened my shirt, shoved my jeans and underwear to my ankles, and grasped my soft but stiffening cock. I pre-cum a lot when I get horny, and right then the clear stuff was oozing out of my dick like a dripping faucet. I smeared the juicy liquid all over my cockhead. Then I held the cum-stained jock to my nose and inhaled deeply, smelling the masculine odor that remained.

As I breathed heavily through the thin material, I got one of the most intense hard-ons I had ever experienced. I got hard-ons all the time, nothing unusual about that for a guy my age, but this was like an explosion of blood to my crotch, an immediate and intensely gratifying sensation as my dick throbbed in my fist.

I bowed my legs a little and rubbed the entrancing jock up under my balls, and up and down the length of my stiffened dick. I sheathed my rod in the soft, white fabric of the pouch and stroked my meat through it. Then I kicked off my shoes, shucked my clothes completely, and put Billy's jock on. My balls nestled into the dirty pouch where his had been, my cock so hard it jutted out the elastic waistband.

I pushed the pouch of Billy's jock to just below my balls, and the pressure from the elastic drove my package up against my heaving stomach. I stood sideways to the mirror, punched out my hips, and pumped my meat in slow strokes, watching myself beat off.

I jacked my cock like a sex-starved maniac and very quickly felt the ecstatic tremors of a powerful orgasm cresting. I punched my hips out even farther and pumped even harder on my meat. As I gasped hoarsely, cum started streaming out of my cock in ropy strands, arching and spurting in thick, milky gushes. Throwing back my head, I squeezed my eyes shut and groaned so loudly that the neighbors must have heard me.

"Feel good, Shawn?!" I heard Billy exclaim, followed by a giggle.

All Male Fiction: Flip-Flop Flap

2022-03-30T10:54:00.007-04:00

By: Tommyhawk1 & Ryan Michaels

"Sin and iniquity!" intoned my Grandmother when I came out of my bedroom after changing. Grandma was a relic of another era; well into her eighties. When she was my age, they put on more clothes than they took off to go swimming! That or the men wore those silly orange-and-white-striped union suits, with their handlebar mustaches.

"And those things on your feet," Grandma continued. "Flip-flops! What self-respecting person wears a shoe that only holds on by being stuck between your toes like that?"

"Aw, come on Grandma, they're okay," I said. I'd picked a pair of green flip-flops because I had a t-shirt the exact same shade. Pair those with my lemon-yellow swim trunks and I was ready for a day at the beach. "Everyone on the beach is wearing this stuff."

"If everyone went and jumped off a bridge, would you?" Grandma pointed out with her skewed logic.

"They do, and I did, last year, remember?" I pointed out. I had, with a cord around my legs, naturally. Grandma just humphed her opinion of that.

"Hey, bungee-jumping!" my dad put in; he had come out of his own bedroom. His clothes were a longer version of mine: a short-sleeved shirt and shorts that came down to below his knees, but he had on a pair of orange flip-flops.

"More flip-flops!" Grandma zeroed in on those. "Bunch of foolishness, if you ask me."

"Why don't you go sign up for the bingo games, Mom?" Dad said instead of challenging her opinions anymore.

"Gambling?!" Grandma was scandalized.

"They give away the cards to anyone who shows them a hotel key," Dad pointed out. "And you might win a nice prize. The woman next door won a twenty-dollar gift certificate just yesterday. Tell you what, I’ll take you and get you settled at bingo, and give you some cab fare to get home afterward, and then I’ll meet Joe at the beach. We’ll pick up a tan while you have a fun day playing bingo."

"Hmph," was Grandma’s response. Grandma was always entering those drawings at the grocery store and such. She seems to have figured that if she didn't pay for it directly, it wasn't gambling, and quite enjoyed winning if she did. She agreed to play and grumbled at my dad to hurry up and take her so she didn’t miss the first game.

So, while he did that, I went out to enjoy the day on the beach. From the house on the island, it was a matter of a short walk to two out of three local beaches. The first ended up being loaded with families with little kids, so I made my way to the second one. That one seemed to be even more popular than the first, with a huge crowd. I wasn't really into spending my day tanning on a beach that was packed full of people and little kids, so I ventured on to the third one, and was happy to find that it was practically devoid of people, probably because it was more out of the way than the other two.

I found a spot far away from where the only other people on the beach - about a half dozen or so - were spread out in the sand, and settled on my towel and began to work on applying the suntan lotion.

I cursed under my breath when, a few minutes later, a couple of guys came along and spread their towels only a short distance away from me.

After finishing with the lotion, before lying down to catch some rays, I looked over in their direction again, and the two guys were kissing! More than that, the guy on the far side from me had stuck his hand down the back of the trunks of the guy nearest to me, and unless I missed my guess, he was trying to work one finger up the other guy's butt!

"Shit, is this a gay beach?" I wondered aloud, in a sort-of low tone of voice, well, a conversational tone if anyone had been right beside me.

"It sure is," came a voice not far away from me on the other side.

I looked around to see a cute guy, very blond, nicely muscled, and about five-foot-five inches tall, smiling down at me. I thought all blond guys were tall, but not this one! Like any true blond, his pale skin was more sun-burned than sun-tanned, a reddish tint to his skin. But despite that, he only wore a pair of red swim trunks similar to mine.

Holy fuck, I thought, as the guy gave his crotch a squeeze while I drank in his body, Dad booked us onto an island with a gay beach! And here I thought I'd be stuck holding yarn while Granny wound it up for knitting! This vacation just got a whole lot better!

"Hello?" he said waving his hand at me.

"Huh…" I said looking up at his face. "Oh, sorry… yeah, I didn't know… that it was a gay beach."

"Well, now that you do, are you going to leave?" he smiled at me.

"Um… no, not at all. I came to this beach to work on my tan because it was less crowded than the other two, and I still want to tan, so…" I replied.

"That's good…" he said, "that you're going to stay," his smile broadening, and then, uninvited, he lay his beach towel beside me and sat down on it, his leg touching mine. He looked at me for a minute and then said, "I'm Scott."

"Joe," I said in return, and he extended his hand and I shook it, awkwardly, my arm bent at an irregular angle as we were side-by-side. When he let go, I watched his hand, wondering if he'd try to put it on my thigh… or in my lap, and really kind of hoping that he would.

Instead, he gestured around. "Some of these guys are couples, but most of them are singles, just like you and me," he said. "The cops know we aren't here to make any trouble, and the locals know we all congregate here, and they like the money we pump into their economy year-round, so they give us this place and stay away. The water here is no good for swimming, anyway; full of sandbars and riptides, and sometimes a dangerous undertow. Anyone into the beach for swimming goes to one of the other two… which leaves this beach for guys like you and me, you know, guys who just want to work on their tan," he chuckled.

I chuckled as well, then, pointing over to the two guys who were fooling around, asked, "What about that? I know you said the cops don't bother people on this beach, but having sex on a public beach? That can't be allowed, can it?"

"Yeah, totally. As I said, the cops don't bother us, they know everything that goes on here."

"Wow! So… how do you know if someone is looking for sex, or is just here to get a tan?"

He gestured to my feet. "Guys looking for sex on this beach wear flip-flops."

"Oh, uh, okay," I said. I thought that was an odd code of sorts.

He went on, "Yeah, and if you are looking and a guy approaches who you're not into, just give him a shake of the head and a wave of the hand, you know," he did a shake-and-wave that said, no thanks, I don't want any, "and he'll leave you alone."

"And what if you're not looking?"

"If you're taken or not looking at all, you know, if you really are here to just work on your tan, then you wear some other sort of footgear or go barefoot to show yourself unavailable. So, if you're not looking then just take those off," he said pointing at my flip-flops, "and hide them under your towel until you're ready to leave."

I looked down at the green flip-flops on my feet as he pointed at them, and then at his feet. He wore one blue and one red. "Hey, your flip-flops don't match," I pointed out.

"Another little custom we have here," he said, "Trophies."

"Trophies?"

"You have sex with a guy, you take one of his flip-flops and give him one of yours. Then everyone knows who got with who, and can ask one of the guys if the other was any good if they want to get with him too.” He laughed and then continued, “And when you get home, you can put all the mismatched flip-flops in a box or something and have trophies of all your beach conquests."

"Oh," I said, laughing. "So, you already got lucky once today, then?"

He waggled his foot with the blue flip-flop; it was quite a bit bigger than the other one, which fit him perfectly. "Yeah, that was Gregg. He's a big mother, like six-foot-five, built like a football linebacker, and about as subtle as a chainsaw at five a.m. He got here this morning and I was first on the spot and so I got to siphon off his morning load. Gregg's got a lot of, uh, spunk, and energy, but not a lot of tact. He sort of walks up and grabs you; which, when you're looking for that, can be a lot of fun."

"I guess it can," I said.

"You're still wearing your flip-flops," Scott pointed out after a slight pause in the conversation. "Does that mean you're declaring yourself available?"

"Yeah, I guess I am," I smiled over at him.

"Yeah? I thought you didn't want to be at a gay beach?"

"I didn't say that," I replied. "I just didn't know this was one."

"Oh, so when you said, 'Shit, is this a gay beach?' it was an exclamation of glee, not horror?" he questioned with a smile on his face.

"Exactly!"

The smile on his face turned into a grin and he said, "Well, just remember what I said to do if you are looking but not interested in a guy who comes up to you," and this time his hand did come in for a landing on my leg as he spoke the words.

I just nodded but didn't say a word or make any attempt to stop him, as my cock sprang to life from his touch.

When I didn't rebuff his move, it was clear that I was interested in having some fun with him and he slid his hand up my leg, and then over my swim trunks until he found my cock.

All Male True Experience: Breaking in a Virgin

2022-03-27T10:43:00.007-04:00

By: Unknown Author

I nailed a beautiful young guy over the weekend. I saw him out at a gay club, one of those that cater mainly to college guys, twinks, and young gym bunnies - nineteen is the legal drinking age where I live.

At this place (and in general) most of these younger guys will ignore you if you are older; in fact, you may as well be dead as far as they're concerned. However, there was always a handful who were into the older 'daddy' types.

I happened to be older at thirty-eight years old, standing 6-feet-tall, with 180 pounds of hard muscle, a tanned body, and a big, thick cock between my legs. Thankfully, I fit into that 'daddy' category some of these twinks liked, and, wanting a young bottom to plant my load in, I couldn't think of a better place to find one.

The young men in this place usually stick together in small groups. The place was hot and already more than half of them were shirtless. Though the hot young flesh on display was nice to look at, I prefer my bottoms to be a little more inhibited. I knew as soon as I saw him, he was the one I wanted.

He was cute, young, probably twenty years old at most. He had that preppy look, with stylish dark hair, green eyes, and a long lean body that was going to look great stretched out naked under me. You could tell he was shy. He was sitting alone at a small table in the corner, nursing a bottle of beer, eyeing the half-naked men dancing under the lights. He hadn't looked in my direction yet.

I walked over by him and stood against the wall. I looked down at the back of his neck, feeling my own neck tingle as I imagined how delicious his skin would feel against my lips. He must have sensed me looking because his head turned. He looked at my face, and then his eyes dropped to my crotch, back to my face again, and then back to the dance floor. I could see the color flush into his cheeks. I didn't say a word, just crossed my legs and waited for him to look back again.

Thirty seconds later he took another look, this time quicker. I walked over and took the other seat at the table. "See anything you like?" I directed my gaze out onto the throng of dancing twinks but made sure he could see my crotch as my hand gently caressed my bulge. He said something to me, but his voice was so quiet and timid that I couldn't comprehend a word of it.

This was bullshit. I cut to the chase. "Why don't we get out of here and fuck?"

The kid knocked his beer bottle over and looked directly at my bulge. Then his eyes met mine. "How about it? You want to see what I have under here?" I asked as I stood and stroked myself obscenely. He just stared like a scared kid but didn't say anything at all.

"Well, if you decide that you do, I'll be outside having a smoke before I go," I told him, giving my bulge a good squeeze, and then I turned and left.

I stood by my car and lit my smoke, waiting to see if the quiet guy was coming out. I was halfway through my cigarette when the door opened and he slid out. He loitered near the front of the club, repeatedly glancing over at me, working up the courage to walk over to me.

Finally, he ambled over. "Got a place?" I asked him. He was shivering a little and I'm not sure it was entirely from the cold.

"Maybe. What about you?" he replied.

"Mine's over on the other side of town. Not really close at all. It's pretty small. Yours is probably closer." I said. I didn't like taking young twinks to my place. I preferred to go to their place, so I could just get up and leave when I was done with them.

I let him yammer for a bit then tossed my smoldering cigarette butt to the ground and exhaled. "You drive. I'll follow," I said, making the decision to go to his place, for him. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but didn't.

He walked to the far end of the lot and started up a small car. I hopped in my own and peeled out after him, making sure to stay right on his ass. Ten minutes later we pulled up in front of a small house in a residential area.

"Nice place," I said, checking out the neighborhood. He looked scared shitless, like one of his neighbors might see him returning home late at night with a stranger, a male stranger.

He walked us up the driveway, to the garage. "I don't live in the house. My place is up there." He glanced up and pointed at the upper level of the garage and unlocked the side door.

The place was small, just a studio with a small kitchenette, a sofa in the middle of the room, and a bed protruding from the wall behind it. It was decorated like a teenager's bedroom and he would inform that it was his parents' house and that when he had turned nineteen a few months back, they had allowed him to move out over the garage.

I listened to him babble on but truthfully, I didn't give a shit about what he was saying; I was just there to fuck some twink ass. I did note that he was nineteen and that I had been pretty close in guessing his age.

"Uh-huh," I said when he had finished yapping and then told him to get himself naked and wait for me on the bed while I used the bathroom, which was barely large enough to stand up in.

In the bathroom, I tore off my shirt, dropped my jeans, and eased my sticky briefs down. I sat on the toilet long enough to kick off my shoes and socks.

Totally naked, I went back out into the main room. "Oh my god!" was all he said, gawking at my cock, which stuck out like a club.

All Male Fiction: Contented

2022-03-14T11:38:00.004-04:00

By: breeze

His hand trembles. Every part of his body, every square inch of skin has the potential to arouse him. He slowly and deliberately runs his hands over different places allowing himself to feel the sensuousness that resides there. He does not focus on his penis or testicles yet. He delights in his sensual nature, and not in the sexual aspects of his body.

He feels the ripple of his rib cage. He follows his obliques down to his hips. He traces along the hip bones to his upper, then inner thighs. He lifts his legs and continues his journey. He feels the roundness of the cheeks of his ass and the cleft that separates them. First one leg then the other, all the way down to his feet, has his attention.

He works his way back up until he has found his chest and his nipples are hard and sensitive to his touch. He lingers there. He visits his armpits…neck…ears…face. He runs his fingers through his hair.

His ministrations have awakened his senses. He feels the warmth that radiates within his body spreading over him, seducing him. His body gives up its sensual secrets. He is in a heightened state of arousal. It has driven him to an erection.

He reaches for his member with one hand and with the other feels the smoothness of his skin at its base, then the velvety texture of his sack. He takes in a deep breath and slowly begins his exploration there. He feels the blood begin to course its way into his rod, adding fuel to his already burning desire.

Straight Fiction: Silence Is Goldwyn

2022-03-11T12:15:00.004-05:00

By: RejectReality

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I couldn't help but stare.

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

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

"Shit," she said under her breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Won't tell," I repeated.

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

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

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

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

I nodded.

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

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

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

All Male True Experience: Sucking My First Cock

2022-03-09T10:01:00.002-05:00

By: Sean R.

Several months ago, I had an experience I will never forget. It started as a normal day, however, things would deviate from the norm after I had finished work and made my way to the gym.

I had plans to play racquetball with my usual partner at 7:30 pm. He wasn't there yet, so I went to the locker room to change. I love locker rooms; being able to catch glimpses of all those hanging, swinging cocks. This locker room was a very nice, large one with plenty of mirrors.

Just the sight and smell of a locker room could get me feeling horny, and this time was no different; my dick was semi-hard by the time I took down my pants and underwear. I was just contemplating giving it a couple of tugs when I heard some voices, and then two guys, older businessmen types in suits, came around the corner and went to lockers a few doors down from mine.

I quickly pulled on my jock to cover my semi, then got the rest of my gym clothes on and headed off for the juice bar to wait for my friend.

After arriving at the juice bar and taking a seat, the woman behind the counter asked if I was Sean. I told her that I was, and she then passed along a phone message to me saying that my friend had called and would be unable to make it.

I thanked her, sounding rather disappointed, and asked if she knew of anyone else who was perhaps looking for a racquetball partner. She didn't but said if I was planning to stay, she would let people know that I was looking. I thanked her again, bought a drink, and sat at the juice bar for a bit.

It was now 8:30, and so far, no one had been available or interested in playing a game of racquetball with me. I decided I had wasted enough time and didn't want to just leave and go home, so I decided to head to the court, open a can of balls and get some practice time in.

I batted those balls over and over and had long since worked up a sweat. I decided to step out and get some water and check the time. I was surprised to find that it was after 9:30. I was so preoccupied I didn't realize that I had been batting balls for a little over an hour; it certainly hadn't felt like that much time had gone by.

I looked around and there was no one else around now. It didn't matter anyway, though; it wasn't like I was going to get a game in before the club closed. However, I decided I'd get in a few more practice shots before calling it quits; I was plenty steamed from being stood up and having had no luck in finding a partner and had decided this was the best way to burn it off.

As I approached the court, I saw through the windows that someone else was now in there, swatting their balls. I sort of recognized him; he was a regular at the gym, but not the courts. He was about 6'2", which is about my height, and had dark hair, green eyes, and being shirtless, I could see that he was in really great shape, too.

I tapped the window before entering, to get his attention; if you just walk in when someone doesn't see you, they will turn and the ball is likely to come back and hit either you or them.

He moved over and let the ball fly past him and I stepped into the room. "Hi, you must be Sean," he said.

"Uh, yeah. How do you know my name?" I asked him.

"Oh, Melissa told me there was a guy named Sean in court 7 looking for a partner."

"Melissa?"

"The girl at the juice bar."

"Ah," I nodded.

"I'm Josh," he said extending his hand. "So, you wanna get a game or two in?"

I told him I'd love to as I shook his hand, but pointed out that the place would be closing soon and we didn't have enough time to do so.

He then told me that Melissa was his girlfriend and was going to be there until 11:00 or so, locking up and stuff and that we could stay until she was ready to leave. After explaining that, I agreed to a game and we started playing.

We played to 15 at first and it was a great game. I just barely won and I was completely out of breath, and very thirsty. I went out to get another drink of water from the fountain and noticed that most of the lights were now off. I looked at the clock and it said 10:30. I figured Melissa was almost ready to leave, a little earlier than her boyfriend had anticipated, and that we would have to leave now, too.

However, after telling Josh this, he explained that most of the lights in the main gym area got turned off after hours and that his girlfriend had left our light on so we could play a little longer.

Game two started the same, and we were in the middle of the point when the lights went out, and being in the middle of a dive for the ball at the time, Josh slammed into me in the dark. We both went crashing to the floor. He was on top of me and his sweaty arms and legs were all over me. I could also feel a soft cock quickly stiffening and pushing into my stomach. This was the strangest thing I had ever felt.

I didn't want to seem awkward or pushy so I asked him if he was alright. He said he was fine, and that he was sorry. He rolled off me and I could hear him breathing next to me. He said he guessed that was his girlfriend's way of saying that she wouldn't be much longer and that it was time for us to call it a night, and go and get showered and changed. I told him that I agreed and that my fiancé would be wondering where I was.

We both got up and felt our way toward the door, and with the small amount of light shining through the windows from outside of the racquetball court, I could see his shorts being pushed forward by a hard-on. I tried not to make it look like I noticed, but this turned me on a lot.

As we entered the locker room, we each went to our locker areas and undressed. Towel wrapped around my waist, I headed to the showers. Josh was just stepping in as I arrived and had his back to me. I took the shower across from him and took in his naked body from behind as he began to wet himself down.

He turned and I quickly averted my eyes. His cock appeared to be semi-erect and I noticed him taking in my nakedness as well. His cock began to rise even more and he turned away from me to hide his erection. I decided that an opportunity like this would not present itself again.

"Hey, great game," I started.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"I had a great time," I continued.

"Yeah me too," he replied, and then there was a moment of silence.

I decided to use his embarrassment against him to bring up the subject of his cock. "It's ok, happens to all of us at some point," I said.

"What does?"

"Getting a hard-on in the showers."

"Shit!" he said under his breath, realizing I had seen it. "Uh, yeah," he said with a nervous laugh, "It has a mind of its own. Just thinking about my girlfriend, you know. I'm not gay or anything, so don't worry or get nervous that it means anything."

But I knew it did mean something, I just had a feeling. Probably because he got hard when his sweat-soaked, bare-chested body landed on top of mine, and he started to get hard when he saw me naked in the showers. "I'm not worried, I'm not gay either. It happens to the best of us." I wasn't lying; I considered myself straight and simply bi-curious.

He didn't reply but I couldn't stop now and, after mustering up all my nerve, I went for it, "So, um, do you need a hand with that?" I asked.

"Uh, hand with what?"

"With that boner you can't get to go down," I chuckled.

"Uh, I told you, I'm not gay; I have a girlfriend. Um, what did you have in mind anyway?"

All Male True Experience: An Unrelenting Urge

2022-02-27T10:22:00.004-05:00

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

2021-04-04T06:01:00.009-04:00

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

2021-04-03T05:26:00.002-04:00

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..."