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All Male Fiction: Hello Friend

2026-06-26T12:39:33.798-04:00

By: Ryan Michaels

A fictional piece based on a real experience.

Ryan felt a familiar hum of nervousness as he heard the doorbell ring. It was Liam.

Liam was Ryan's next-door neighbor. He was twenty-five and possessed a casual, easy-going charisma that had captivated Ryan for quite some time now.

Ryan had a bunch of stuff he was trying to get rid of, some of which he thought Liam might be interested in, and that is why Liam was dropping by.

"Hey, Ryan!" Liam said, stepping through the door with a friendly grin.

"Hey," Ryan replied. "Thanks for coming by. The stuff is all in the other room. Follow me."

Ryan gestured at the big pile of boxes stacked in the corner. "Take a look through everything and take whatever you want," Ryan offered.

"Thanks," Liam replied as he moved over to the corner.

As Liam looked through the pile of boxes, his eyes soon caught a small, framed piece of text art sitting on the bookshelf next to the boxes. It read: Masturbation is more fun with a friend. And right below it, in smaller letters: Hello, friend! Liam paused, staring at the frame. Without looking away, he murmured, "Hello, friend."

Ryan blinked, caught off guard. "Sorry, what?"

Liam chuckled, turning toward him with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "The sign."

Ryan let out a slightly awkward laugh. It was partly an inside joke with himself because Ryan was a chronic masturbator. He had totally forgotten it was even there.

"Right! Yeah, that. A buddy gave that to me as a gag gift," Ryan lied. He had actually made it himself. "I just thought it was funny to keep up."

Liam’s expression shifted, his smile fading into something more contemplative. He looked at the sign, then back at Ryan, his gaze lingering. "Oh, too bad," Liam said softly. "I thought it was legit."

Ryan felt his heart pound in his chest. The air in the room suddenly felt very thick. "Legit?"

Liam stepped closer. "Yeah. I saw the sign, and I guess I was hoping it was an invitation.”

Ryan gulped and took a breath, meeting Liam’s eyes. Was this really happening? Could Liam, his young, seemingly straight neighbor, really want to do this? Was he going to get to see Liam's cock, his hard cock? Or was it some cruel, convoluted trick to expose his own unspoken desires?

"Well?" Liam prompted. "Was it?"

"Wa-was it what?" Ryan sputtered.

"An invitation?" Liam replied as he casually groped his crotch while looking Ryan right in the eye. "I've always wanted to try jacking off with another guy," he added.

In that moment, Ryan knew this wasn't any kind of trick to trap him. There wasn't a hint of mockery or amusement on Liam's face; Liam was being serious, displaying raw, unfiltered honesty in what he wanted. He could see it in Liam's eyes and realized he had nothing to lose.

"The truth is, Liam... yeah, it is," Ryan said, finding his footing. "I’m not shy about it. I love to masturbate. It’s a big part of my life. And I'd love to masturbate with you. So, if you were serious just now, we could actually do that."

Liam didn’t hesitate. He simply nodded, his eyes locked on Ryan’s. "Sure, I'd be up for that," he smiled.

Ryan stared at Liam for a brief moment, processing the reality of the situation, before turning toward the couch. Liam followed closely, settling onto the cushions right beside him.

Ryan wasn't sure if Liam's interest was geared toward simply watching porn together or focusing on the act of their mutual masturbation, so he asked. "Porn or no porn?" He was hoping for the latter, so he could openly watch Liam masturbating, and Liam watch him, but Liam chose the former. Ryan wasn't surprised by Liam's choice; for a straight guy crossing this line for the first time, a porn video offered a safe focal point, a mutual alibi while they stole glances at each other.

With the decision made, Ryan reached for his laptop on the adjacent fold-away table, flipped up the lid, and opened a browser. He would have preferred gay porn, but since he knew for sure Liam liked girls and wasn't sure if he was into guys, too, he pulled up some straight porn. As the two of them scanned the video thumbnails, Ryan asked, "Which one looks good to you?" Liam pointed one out, and Ryan clicked on it and clicked the play button.

As the porn filled the screen, despite their mutual desire, the initial awkwardness of the situation was undeniable. Someone had to break the ice. Knowing Liam likely wouldn't make the first move, Ryan took a breath, counted to three in his head, and undid his pants. He lifted his hips, pushing both his pants and underwear down in one fluid motion.

Liam’s eyes darted over briefly before snapping back to the screen. But as Ryan gripped himself and began a slow stroke, Liam’s gaze lingered longer the second time. A few moments later, Liam’s own hands moved to the button of his jeans. He undid it and lowered his zipper hesitantly, sliding his jeans down while keeping his underwear on, his eyes locked firmly on the video.

Ryan stole a glance at his neighbor's lap. Even beneath the fabric, the outline was impressive, the distinct shape of a heavy, semi-erect cock. Suddenly, Liam shifted, resting his hand directly over his crotch. Within moments, his hand slipped inside his underwear, slowly moving up and down inside it. After a quick, lingering look at Ryan's fully hardened length, Liam finally eased his underwear down beneath his balls.

Ryan's five-inch boner flexed in his fist, and a drop of pre-cum oozed from the tip as he laid eyes on Liam's cock, which stood fully erect. It was easily seven inches in length, thick and uncut, with a tamed black bush above it. He had a hefty pair of balls to match, which were shaven smooth.

Now totally exposed and aroused, Liam seemed to shed the last of his hesitation. He lowered his underwear the rest of the way and kicked his discarded clothes away from his ankles and began masturbating, his breathing deepening as he stroked himself. Every few seconds, his gaze would drift away from the screen, watching the way Ryan’s hand moved on his hard dick.

Ryan, meanwhile, found his attention split. He was watching the screen, but his real focus was on the sight of Liam - the way his fingers splayed around his thick cock, the way his hand moved rhythmically up and down his long length, the way his foreskin slid back and forth, exposing the wetness inside it.

The intensity of it all was almost unbearable; Ryan wanted more. Driven by his desire, a sudden spike of boldness took over, and he shifted his weight, letting his knee press firmly against Liam's bare leg. Liam glanced down at the contact but didn't pull away.

Encouraged, Ryan pushed the boundary a little further. He rested his free hand on the cushion, sliding it closer until the side of his palm brushed against the bare skin of Liam’s leg. Liam’s eyes flickered downward, but he didn’t move. Taking the stillness as an invitation, Ryan slowly lifted his hand and pressed it flat against Liam’s inner thigh, his knuckles brushing the warm weight of Liam's scrotum.

Liam let out a soft, sharp gasp. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he forced his gaze back toward the screen, his chest rising and falling more rapidly now.

The lack of a rebuff was all the permission Ryan needed. He shifted his hand, cupping Liam's balls softly, and began a slow, deliberate massage. A low moan escaped Liam’s lips. His fingers slipped away from his own shaft, his hand falling limp against the couch cushions, leaving his cock sticking straight up in the air, completely unattended.

There was no doubt this was an open invitation, and Ryan wrapped his fingers around Liam’s steel-hard cock. Liam let out a long, breathy sigh that melted into quiet moans as Ryan masturbated him.

When the porn clip ended, Ryan had an idea. He let go of his own dick and used his free hand to open a blowjob compilation porno he had bookmarked.

"Oh, fuck yeah!" Liam moaned when the compilation started playing.

"You like blowjob porn?" Ryan asked, squeezing Liam's cock a little tighter.

"Oh yeah!"

"Do you like getting them, too?" Ryan asked, stroking Liam a little faster.

"Who doesn't?" Liam laughed breathlessly, his hips giving a subtle, unconscious thrust against Ryan's hand.

Realizing his ultimate fantasy was quite possibly within arm's reach, Ryan decided to test the final boundary. He leaned forward, putting his face right next to Liam's cock, making his desire completely unmistakable.

Liam glanced down, catching on instantly to the silent request. He looked back at the screen, watching the onscreen performer, and blurted out, "Suck that cock!"

Ryan knew Liam was talking to the woman in the porno, but the meaning was crystal clear - it was a green light, and Ryan didn't hesitate. He leaned over, parted his lips, and slid the head of Liam's cock into his mouth, groaning as he got his first taste of Liam's meat.

"Oh, fuck!" Liam gasped at the same time, his entire body going rigid as his fingers locked into the fabric of the couch cushions.

Ryan swiftly moved off the couch and onto his knees in front of Liam - he preferred to be on his knees when sucking cock, especially when it was one-sided like it was going to be with Liam.

Liam let out a shaky, desperate breath as Ryan took him all the way into his mouth this time, the warm, intimate reality of the moment far exceeding anything Ryan had ever imagined when he first made that silly frame.

Ryan was completely lost in the sensation, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin of Liam’s cock, savoring the taste of him. Every time Ryan swirled his tongue or tightened his grip, Liam would let out a low, guttural sound, his hips occasionally twitching and lifting toward Ryan’s lips.

"Yeah, suck it!" Liam rasped, while watching the woman on screen giving a blowjob, his voice thick with building pleasure. "Suck that dick!" His tone was appreciative, though, and Ryan knew Liam was really talking to him. But if he needed to pretend the woman on screen was blowing him instead of a guy, that was ok with Ryan.

Ryan could feel the heavy pulse in Liam’s cock that told him Liam was getting very close. The sheer intensity of the sounds Liam was making, combined with the heat of the moment, sent Ryan's own arousal surging completely out of control. He started pumping his own aching erection in a frantic, heavy rhythm that perfectly matched the pace of his mouth on Liam’s shaft.

Liam's breathing turned into ragged gasps, and his back arched off the couch, his fingers digging deeper into the couch cushions. "I’m gonna…"

Knowing Liam was right on the edge, Ryan accelerated his pace on both of them, his mouth a hot, slick friction against Liam’s shaft while his own hand worked furiously on his own dick. He felt the sudden, explosive tension in Liam’s body as Liam finally spilled his seed, "Unghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" he cried out, his hips bucking in time with his release.

At that exact same second, the overwhelming friction and the sound of Liam's release pushed Ryan straight over the edge. With a sharp, muffled cry around Liam's spurting cock, Ryan's body went rigid. He came powerfully, his semen spurting thick and heavy straight into his own clutching hand, spilling over his knuckles as his hips twitched in a shared, explosive climax.

Ryan stayed with Liam for a moment longer, catching every drop of his release, his throat working in a series of deep, rhythmic swallows until they were both completely spent, the sounds from the screen fading into background noise against the sudden intensity of the moment.

Ryan slowly pulled back, the taste of his neighbor lingering on his tongue as Liam slowly let out a shuddering breath. Ryan sank back onto his heels, breathing heavily, looking down at his own messy hand before grabbing a few tissues from the adjacent table to wipe himself clean.

Liam's hands gradually loosened their white-knuckled grip on the couch cushions, his chest heaving, his face flushed a deep, satisfied pink. He looked down at Ryan, a look of pure, dazed contentment on his face. "That," he breathed, a slow, genuine smile spreading across his face, "was definitely more fun than just jacking off together."

Ryan laughed softly, tossing the crumpled tissues into a small bin. "Yeah," he agreed, climbing back up onto the couch cushions to sit right beside him.

They sat there in the heavy silence that followed, two neighbors separated only by a shared fence an hour ago, now completely rewired into something entirely new. The anticipated awkwardness never came. There was no sudden rush to pull away or patch up boundaries; instead, a comfortable, heavy warmth settled over the room, the framed joke on the bookshelf forgotten in favor of the much more interesting reality they had just created.

Thinking about all they had just done as he looked at Liam sitting there half-naked, and perfectly content, Ryan knew the polite, distant dynamic of their neighborly relationship was gone for good, replaced by an unspoken understanding of exactly what would happen the next time Liam accepted an invitation to drop by.

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Bisexual Fiction: Unmasked Desires (Part 1)

2026-06-25T02:21:50.969-04:00

By: bbw4youngercocks1 & Ryan Michaels

By all outward appearances, Kevin and Linda were the picture-perfect suburban couple. They owned a beautiful home, free and clear, thanks to the success of Kevin’s business. Their sprawling master bedroom even featured a large, freestanding Jacuzzi tub right in the corner of the room—not tucked away in an ensuite or out on a deck, but prominently displayed as a luxurious conversation piece. They entertained often and were highly popular in the neighborhood, save for a few conservative, easily scandalized neighbors.

But every couple has its secrets. For Kevin and Linda, their secret was a thriving, deeply adventurous sex life rooted in Kevin's bisexuality. While Kevin deeply loved his wife and the incredible intimacy they shared, he had always harbored a strong attraction to men—specifically dark-haired, fit men with sharp features.

Rather than being pushed away by such a revelation, Linda found it intensely arousing. The first time she had ever witnessed her husband intimately involved with another man, the sheer visual thrill had overwhelmed her.

Over the years, they had gradually explored group sex, starting with a few heterosexual threesomes. The first involved one of Kevin's male co-workers; it turned them both on so much knowing that a guy Kevin worked with every day had fucked his wife. After the first time, so comfortable with having done it, they decided to do it again, this time with one of Kevin's good friends, which turned them on immensely as well.

After those two encounters, Linda and Kevin brought a woman into bed with them. The situation had just presented itself, and so they went with it. But nothing quite matched the specific, raw energy of Linda and Kevin sharing another man. For Linda, the sensation of two men focusing on her and each other was unparalleled; for Kevin, it allowed him to fully embrace both sides of his desires with his wife’s enthusiastic blessing.

For a long time, they kept these adventures private, especially when a notoriously nosy neighbor lived next door. But after she finally moved away and the house sat empty for months, they learned a new neighbor was moving in.

"Probably another busybody who needs to mind her own business," Kevin joked one afternoon.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

When the moving truck arrived, it was followed by a modest minivan. Stepping out of the driver's seat was PJ, clad in only a pair of tight shorts. At twenty-eight, single, and recently out of a long-term relationship, PJ was an absolute striking presence. He stood six feet tall with broad shoulders, toned arms, a hairless chest, a remarkably fit physique, and had a mound between his legs that showed promise of a well-endowed cock. While PJ had only been with women up to this point, he possessed a quiet, latent bi-curiosity that he had never acted on.

From the moment they met him, both Kevin and Linda were captivated. PJ was slightly shy at first, but incredibly charismatic and quick-witted, and he quickly integrated into their social circle.

Kevin would secretly smile whenever he caught PJ discreetly checking Linda out. Even after a decade of marriage, Linda was stunning, and Kevin felt pride rather than jealousy. Kevin was just as attracted to PJ as Linda was. Both couldn't help but wonder how he would look totally naked, preferably in their bed.

Linda noticed a rotating door of women leaving PJ's house, prompting her and Kevin to playfully joke that he was treating sex like a takeout delivery service when he could just come next door and get all the sex he needed for free. The trick was getting him over there and making it known to him, but that wouldn't come until later that summer.

Kevin was out in the yard working on a privacy fence—a lingering project from the days of their old neighbor—while Linda lounged by the pool in a thong bikini. Next door, PJ was cutting his grass, entirely distracted. In fact, he nearly lost control of the lawnmower when Linda shifted, intentionally letting her bikini top slip slightly to catch his gaze. Sensing his eyes on her, she rolled over with a slow, deliberate movement, giving him a full view of her ass.

PJ let out a low groan. The only thing that was stopping him from going over there, ripping off her bikini, and fucking her brains out was the fact that she was married, and the assumption that Kevin would tear him apart if he tried. Unable to stop looking at her scantily clad body, he had to stop cutting his lawn and retreat inside to take care of the raging hard-on in his shorts.

That evening, Kevin fired up the indoor Jacuzzi, and Linda extended a casual invitation to PJ to come over for drinks. PJ accepted, desperately trying to figure out how he was going to keep his cock from getting hard when he saw Linda in her bikini again.

When PJ arrived, he was wearing tight, form-fitting swim trunks that left very little to the imagination regarding his impressive proportions. He admired the unique layout of their master bedroom, laughing that they could easily host a party in there.

Soon, the three of them were soaking in the warm, bubbling water, sipping wine, and chatting easily. The entire time, just as he had feared, Linda's near-nakedness had caused PJ's cock to get rock hard under the water.

As the alcohol and the heat took effect, the atmosphere grew thick with anticipation. Under the cover of the bubbles, Linda reached out, her hand slowly brushing against PJ's thigh, then grazing his lap. She gave her husband a subtle sign, confirming exactly how aroused their neighbor was.

Deciding to give Linda the first move, Kevin smiled, excusing himself to grab another bottle of wine. "Keep my wife company for a minute, will you, PJ?" he asked, throwing Linda a subtle, knowing wink.

"Happily," PJ replied, his voice a bit strained.

The moment Kevin left the room, Linda moved closer, her touch becoming deliberate and intense. PJ gasped, a trace of nervous loyalty hitting him. "What about your husband?"

"Trust me," Linda whispered, leaning in close. "He won't mind at all."

Forbidden Desire Deep Dive

2026-06-23T21:48:21.810-04:00

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All Male Fiction: Forbidden Desire

2026-06-22T17:14:50.234-04:00

By: Ryan Michaels

ryanxxx@hotmail.com

The morning sun hit the brick facade of the two-story apartment complex, casting long shadows across the central courtyard. It was a well-maintained property, quiet and private, designed with all the units facing inward toward an inground pool.

Ryan stood leaning in the doorway of his apartment, looking out over the courtyard with a mug of coffee in hand. At forty-eight, Ryan was in great shape, possessing a lean, athletic build that made him look easily a decade younger than his actual years. He wasn’t just a resident here; he owned the entire building.

When he purchased the complex, he had recognized the potential in the layout and immediately renovated the apartment right above his. By installing a staircase, he converted his unit into a unique, spacious two-story apartment. The main floor housed the open-concept living room, a kitchen, dining area, den (originally the bedroom for the one-bedroom unit), a four-piece bathroom, and a French door leading to a backyard patio. The renovated second floor now contained a large master bedroom with an ensuite, a large second bedroom, a four-piece bathroom, and a hallway.

From the kitchen behind him, the heavy, familiar tread of combat boots signaled that his husband was getting ready for a shift. Chad was a firefighter, younger than Ryan at thirty-four, with the broad shoulders and rugged stamina that the job demanded. Their marriage was grounded in a deep, mutual respect, though Chad’s demanding schedule at the station often left Ryan holding down the fort at home during long twenty-four-hour shifts.

Living with them was Jake, Ryan’s twenty-two-year-old son. Ryan was a friend of Jake's mother, who wanted a child, and he had agreed to help her out, via artificial insemination – Ryan has never had sex with a woman. When Jake's mother died when Jake was twelve, Jake came to live with Ryan.

Ryan and Jake are extremely close, father and son, yes, but also really good friends. They could talk about anything with each other, just like two guy friends would, and once Jake was old enough, that included intimate things. For example, Jake knows his dad is an insatiable bottom, that he is submissive with men, loves to be called names by men, one in particular, and has even heard some of the dirty details of Ryan's sex life. It wasn't a one-sided situation either; Jake, too, would share intimate things with his dad, such as telling his dad when he lost his virginity and all the details.

When Jake was nineteen, he came out as bisexual. A good kid, he was navigating his twenties with a solid circle of friends, the most frequent of whom was Ben, his best friend since high school.

Ben was also twenty-two, straight, with an easygoing charm and an athletic build that fit right in with the family. But recently, there was a distinct shift in the air whenever Jake wasn't around. Ben’s posture would change. The casual, respectful friend vanished, replaced by a guy who dropped heavy innuendos, lingered too close, and locked eyes with Ryan in a way that made Ryan’s chest tighten. It was a subtle game of lingering glances and loaded compliments that Ryan never brought up to his son or his husband, but one that added a quiet, underlying tension to the humid summer days around the complex.

With Chad pulling frequent twenty-four-hour shifts at the fire station and Jake often out, the sprawling two-story apartment often grew quiet. It was during these precise windows of time that Ben would find reasons to drop by, supposedly to wait for Jake, though he never seemed disappointed when only Ryan was home.

Without the buffer of his best friend in the room, Ben’s casual demeanor shifted into something much more deliberate, using his presence and a steady stream of sexual innuendo to test Ryan’s boundaries.

On this day, the wi-fi had been acting up. Ryan was down on his knees, ass in the air, checking the cables and adjusting the antennas for the router that sat on the lower shelf of the hallway – resetting it hadn't helped. Ben knelt right next to him, his shoulder firmly pressing against Ryan’s as he pretended to look at the blinking lights.

"Looks like the problem is a lack of penetration. If you need some help penetrating your walls, I'm your man."

Ryan would usually offer a disciplined, knowing chuckle, trying to diffuse the tension without explicitly shutting it down, but the air in the apartment remained thick with the unspoken knowledge that Ben was pushing the game further and further each time.

A couple of days later, while Chad was away, Ryan was prepping the grill, rubbing spices into a few racks of ribs. Ben had shown up under the guise of waiting for Jake to get home and was leaning against the patio table, watching the fluid motions of Ryan’s hands.

"Man, you really know how to handle your meat, Ryan," Ben said.

Ryan let out his usual disciplined chuckle.

"But I guess with Chad away so much on those twenty-four-hour shifts, you're used to handling your meat, huh, Ryan?" Ben chuckled.

Ryan didn't respond to the innuendo.

Ben looked around and then moved right up behind Ryan. He put his head over Ryan's shoulder, and let his crotch lightly brush Ryan's ass, and said into Ryan's ear, "How'd you like to handle my meat, Ryan?" and then gave his crotch a firm press against Ryan's ass.

Ben had just gotten way more aggressive with his flirting; he had taken the game too far, and Ryan couldn't take it anymore.

Ryan confronted Jake about it as soon as Ben had gone home, telling his son how Ben was always flirting with him when Jake wasn't around.

Jake laughed it off. "Dad, come on," he said, shaking his head. "Ben is straight. He’s just a flirty guy. He knows you're gay and is just having fun with you. You're misreading it."

Ryan shook his head. "No, I'm not. I don't want him coming over here anymore."

"C'mon, Dad. I've known him since high school. He's my best friend. He's always over here. He's like family. What am I supposed to tell him?"

"I don't know. Make something up or tell him the truth. I don't care."

"Right, Dad. I'm gonna tell him my dad thinks he wants to have sex with him."

Frustrated and unable to convince his son, Ryan compromised. "Fine. He can still come over, but only if you’re here, and when you are, you don't leave him alone with me."

The rule worked... until the night Ben stayed over.

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."