Good & Hot:
Gay Erotic Romance
Rob Rosen
Copyright Rob Rosen 2011
Published by Fierce Publishing at Smashwords
An imprint of Fierce Publishing
www.fiercegaybooks.com
All rights reserved.
For my husband, Kenny
Always good, always hot, always mine
Good & Hot Menu
1. The Iceman Cometh
2. Jackpot
3. A Groovy Kind of Love
4. Don't Ask, Don't Tell
5. Hoodwinked
6. Free Willy
7. Tilt
8. Dairy Queen
9. Invasion of the Butt Snatchers
10. 3,000 Miles of Ass
11. Opposites Attract
12. Under a Big Top
13. Copy Cats
14. Reversal of Fortune
15. Heavy Loads
16. Fucking Paradise
17. The Lit Room
18. Cabin Fever
19. Whip It Out
20. Open and Locked
Foreword
Howdy and welcome to Good & Hot. Feel free to sit back, relax, pop open a button or two, and enjoy. But you might want to blow on it for a few seconds, because what’s about to follow is, indeed, piping hot.
So, I guess you’re asking, where did these twenty torrid tales of erotica come from? Well now, they were all short stories of mine that appeared within the pages of MEN, and Freshmen, and [2] Magazines between the years 2005 and 2009, and I consider them some of my best work – hence my desire to get them all in one collection for you. And I added a little twist, as well, something a bit different from your average anthology: after each story, I’m gonna let you in on my inspiration for writing that story, a sort of behind the scenes peek on what goes on in that twisted, little brain of mine.
But first, here’s a quick background on all of this. See, my erotica career really did start off with quite a bang. I’d never written in this genre before my work with the magazines, never even considered it, except for one solitary, albeit hot, piece: Go Fuck Yourself. The editor of MEN spotted this story, fell in love with it, and asked me if I’d consider writing for them. Of course, back in 2005, MEN was the largest gay men’s magazine out there. Meaning, I said YES! So you see, I was discovered! Sort of like Lana Turner on that stool at Schwab's drugstore in Hollywood. Only with, uh, back-rooms and blowjobs instead of soda straws and chocolate malts. Anyway, that’s what started me on my erotic writing path, which has led me to writing for many, many dozens of anthologies for just about every gay publisher out there. And as for Go Fuck Yourself, which doesn’t appear in this anthology, it did eventually show up in MEN and became the longest piece of fiction published by them in their more than twenty five year history.
As for the stories that will soon follow, they all vary by theme and location and sexual appetite, but they’re mostly all romances: boy meets boy, boy fucks boy, boys live happily ever after. Because that’s just how I roll; romance, you see, turns me on. And the one thing similar in almost all these stories, in fact almost every piece of erotica I’ve ever written, is that the sexual conquest in each of them has sparkling blue eyes. This is in homage to my husband, Kenny, whose eyes are the color of the sky on a cloudless summer’s day. And as for all the butt munching you’re about to read, well, I’ll let you use your own imagination for that one.
Or, better yet, just take a big old gulp of mine…
1. The Iceman Cometh
Originally appeared in MEN Magazine, November, 2008
I’d been traveling through Tibet with a group of reporters, some researching the political climate, others the ecological one. Me, I fell into the latter category, writing about the Himalayas, the loss of habitat, the rapidly shrinking territories of the dwindling species that called this fairly inhospitable region their home.
The land was stunningly beautiful in its ruggedness, in its white world with its uniquely equipped inhabitants, both human and otherwise. It was late summer, still cold, but with patches of green scattered here and there. High mountain rivers flowed ever downward, as they’d done for countless centuries. Skittish animals romped and cavorted up and over the rocky terrain. And I, alone with my camera and backpack, followed on foot.
An experienced tracker and hiker, even I found the maneuvering to be difficult. Still, the beauty of the landscape was enough to keep me going. Hours into my trek, I stopped for a breather. Despite the cold, a trickle of sweat traveled down my neck and back. I leaned against a large boulder, unzipped my nylon hiking pants, and pulled my dick out through my long-johns. A stream of piss hit the ground below, creating a puff of steam in its wake.
I stared down at my prick and gave it a gentle tug. Soon enough, it pulsed with blood and grew thick in my hand, arcing out a good seven steely inches. Grinning at the thought of popping a load, I hocked a loogie at it, lubing it up and giving it a slick stroke, keeping it warm with friction. I groaned, coaxing the come from my balls, the sound echoing and then dissipating all around me.
And then new sounds greeted my ears: a branch breaking, a crunch of gravel. I was, it seemed, not the only animal up on the mountain.
I looked around, saw nothing, and kept a slow even pace on my cock, sending a warm flush down my spine that caused my thighs to tremble and my knees to buckle. I was close, so fucking close. And then, once again, there was a nearby sound. My fist stopped in mid-stroke and I twisted my head from right to left. A new sensation suddenly came over me. I was, I felt, being watched. But by what?
It was then I spotted the tuft of white hair jumping between the rocks. I froze in place. The animal stood erect, taller than me by far. Faster and more agile than a mountain goat, it slipped in and out of my line of vision, lightning fast.
And then it was not the only thing slipping.
I lost my footing, tripped on the rubble of pebbles and rocks beneath my feet, and went tumbling down, down, down the side of the steep hill I’d been on. Head over heels I went, unable to stop the momentum, until my momentum was stopped by something hard and solid. With a dull thud, my head hit first.
I stared up as the world spun and doubled and tripled in front of my eyes. I tried to focus, grabbed for the top of my head, and felt the warm blood between my fingers. I blinked, once, twice, then a third time. It was then that whatever had been watching me was now standing directly over me. Two eyes squinted down, blue as the sky above, sparkling like gems. It was the creature’s only color. All else was white, and furry, and big. Very, very big.
I coughed and wheezed out one word, Yeti, just before my world collapsed into a pinprick of light and then went suddenly and utterly black.
I awoke sometime later, my head throbbing, my vision still blurred, and most definitely not where I had come to an abrupt stop.
I gingerly patted the back of my skull. My hair was wet, the blood no longer there. I blinked and squinted down, willing my vision to return to normal. What I found was that I was wrapped in some sort of fur blanket; soft and warm, it covered me from feet to neck. I peeked inside. I was naked, bruised and rife with cuts, but no blood, not a trace. I reached down to feel my body. Bad mistake. I shut my eyes and waited for the pain to subside. When I again opened them, I saw that I was in a large, torch-lit cave, the ceiling of which was hung with hundreds of sparkling icy stalactites.
I moaned and stared to my side. It was then that I saw the fur again, all white on a massive frame. The creature heard me and suddenly spun around. I grabbed the blanket and backed away, butting up against the wall of the cave. Trapped, I cowered in place.
“Yeti,” I whispered, my voice breaking as the beast rapidly approached, closing the gap between us in mere seconds.
Covered in thick, white fur, he towered well above seven feet tall. Even his face was a startling ice-white, save for the eyes, the eyes that I instantly remembered from my fall; these were a shimmering blue, and they were boring into me, laser intense.
He stood above me, grunting. I held my arms over my head. He backed an inch away. I sensed he meant no harm. In fact, he clearly was the one who brought me to this place and cleaned my wounds. I lowered my arms and nodded. “Thanks,” I managed to squeak out.
He tilted his head to the side but said nothing. Instead, he touched his scalp and then pointed to my own.
I forced a smile. “Still hurts,” I told him. “But I’ll survive.” At least I prayed as much. Considering the circumstances, I wasn’t going to lay any bets.
He moved his hands down his furry body, then nodded at mine.
“Same,” I replied. “Bruised and battered, but nothing feels broken.”
It was then he surprised me by inching forward with outturned hands, hands that were reaching for the blanket and sliding it down, hands as large as baseball mitts and as powerful as a steel vise. Reluctantly, but with no other choice, I relented. Gently, he forced me back down and ran his furry hands over my wounds. I winced, gazing curiously into those magnificent eyes of his. He stared back down, locking on to me. Then he slid his arms beneath my backside and lifted me up as if I were nothing more than a rag doll.
Trembling, my body went limp as he carried me over to a sunken pool in the rear of the cave. Steam rose in a vaporous cloud above it as he placed me in the luxuriously warm water. “Aaah,” I sighed as the naturally-made spa enveloped me and warmed my aching muscles. “Better,” I said to him, staring up as he stared down.
Again he said nothing; though it was doubtful he could understand me even if he could speak. Instead, he stood against the wall and watched me with interest as the pain in my body at last subsided. “Nice,” I said, swirling my hand through the soothing water. “Do you, um, use it, too?” I pointed to the water and then to him.
With this question, he at last became animated, vigorously bobbing his head up and down and reaching for his chest. I shrieked as his fur gave way. The Yeti, it seemed, was wearing a fur coat, which he yanked off of his torso and straight down his body. I stared in shock at what was revealed. Beneath the body-encasing coat lay a man. The head-covering hat came off next, as did the hair-covered boots. And then he stood there, gargantuan in all portions, and as white as the snow outside, save, of course, for those magnificent orbs of blue.
Quickly, he waded into the pool and crouched down onto a ledge within, his body outstretched, completely filling the area around me. “Aaah,” he echoed, smiling at me with brilliant white teeth.
His grin was infectious, if not downright mesmerizing. I returned it with one of my own. “Nice,” I said. “And thank you for rescuing me.” He didn’t reply. I tried a different approach. Touching my head, I frowned, pointed at him, and then smiled. This he seemed to understand. He raised his hands out of the clear spring water and pointed at me before making a rolling motion with his fingers and then a comatose looking face, clearly reenacting my predicament. Then he amended this by adding a stroking motion with his wrist, followed by the previous hand actions.
My face blushed, the red climbing up my neck before it spread from cheek to rosy cheek. He’d obviously witnessed my pud-pulling spectacle. And if that wasn’t disconcerting enough, he inched in closer and lifted me from my seated position, pointing at me and repeating the jerking of his wrist. The finger then aimed at my limp prick.
I gulped and I reached down to grab for it, mimicking his actions, as he clearly wanted me to do. He watched intently, his eyes locked onto my prick as it steadily thickened and grew. I let go and shook it for him. “Boner,” I proclaimed.
His hand rose and cupped my erection, sending an unexpected jolt through each of my sore limbs. He then held it between two sausage-thick fingers and gave a tug, followed by several more before rubbing the slick precome off my wide helmeted head and sucking it off his digits. “Bo-ner,” he repeated haltingly.
“Boner,” I said, with a grin, pointing down at my turgid prick.
His smile widened as he stood to his full mammoth height. “Boner,” he proclaimed, proudly, pointing down to his equally mammoth prick.
My eyes went wide in disbelief. “Holy fuck,” I whispered. His cock was a good foot long and wide as a baseball bat, thick with veins that ran up and down the shaft and ending in a head as full as a ripe plum. He shook it for me, creating a breeze that cooled my now-flushed face. He grabbed it in his mighty fist and gave a yank, his handsome face twisting in a rapturous expression of obvious delight.
Instinctively, I reached out to caress his swaying balls, each lemon-sized and covered in a white down. His eyes opened, staring below to see what I was up to. My hands rose to wrap around the base of his sac, on which I gave an appraising tug. He growled, but otherwise remained in place.
“Nice Yeti,” I cooed, pulling slightly harder until he widened his stance for me. The smile returned to his face, and the growl turned to a groan as he quickened the pace on his club of a prick. I stared at it hungrily. When, after all, would I get another chance to suck the king of all dicks? “Can I, um, taste it?”
He looked at me, bewildered, his head tilted to the side. I pointed at it and then to my mouth. “Boner, suck,” I said.
“Bo-ner, suck,” he repeated, holding the beast out for me.
I bent down and licked the tip, lapping up the salty slick precome before managing the head in my mouth. No easy feat, mind you, but well worth the effort. The Yeti pushed further, sending the battering ram to the back of my throat and a stream of gagging tears down my cheeks. “Bo-ner, suck,” he growled, grabbing the back of my head and coaxing me down around it, pummeling my face with his cock. “Boner suck good,” he added.
I popped his prick out of my mouth. “You said, good. How do you know that word?” I asked, now stroking his shaft. It wasn’t, from what I could recall, a word I’d yet to use in his presence. Strange, I thought. Then again, the mountains weren’t devoid of humans; we were just sparse in number. Clearly, he’d had contact with us before, and was intelligent enough to learn.
Which gave me a thought.
“You suck now,” I said, pointing to my dick and then to his mouth.
He nodded, but rather than bending down to return the favor, he reached out and lifted me out of the water and brought my cock, in its entirety, into his warm, wet mouth. I wrapped my legs around his neck and my hands around his white-maned head and fucked his face raw, feeling like an astronaut floating in space as I hung in the air and pushed and shoved my way down his incredibly wide throat. “Boner, suck, good,” I rasped, repeating his phrasing.
His mouth made it to the base of my cock as my balls slapped against his chin. Then he surprised me, yet again, by spreading my cheeks apart and teasing my hole with his oversized index finger. “Asshole,” I informed him.
He retracted his mouth from my prick, and repeated, “Ass-hole.” I looked down at him and he grinned up at me, the cutest and least abominable snowman anyone could ever imagine. “Ass-hole, suck, good?” he asked.
I nodded. “Be my guest, Yeti.”
He pushed out with his hands and raised me up even higher. I grabbed on to a stalactite as he positioned me above his face. Craning his neck, he slithered out a bovine-sized tongue that lapped eagerly at my ass before it snaked its way inside of me, filling up my cavity and sending a million sparks out from my crotch that tickled and triggered every nerve ending in my body.
I stroked my rod as he tongued me, groaning, “Oh fuck,” in between his pushes and prods.
“Fuck?” he asked.
“Fuck,” I repeated.
“Fuck good?”
“Oh yeah. Fuck real good.”
He gently set me down and then pointed at my chest and then his own. “Fuck good, yeah,” he said.
“Ah,” I said, a wide grin spreading across my face. “You want me to show you what fucking is, yes?”
He jabbed at my chest, and repeated, “Fuck good, yeah.”
Now he was speaking my language. Fortunately, I’d come prepared, as it were. Figuring I might encounter a horny Sherpa along my journey, I packed a strip of rubbers and some lube in my backpack. Of course, this unusual scenario never crossed my twisted little mind, but it seemed my forethought would indeed prove handy.
I looked around the cave. My clothes and gear were stowed neatly in a corner. I ran to my pack and removed my goodies. The Yeti watched my every move, stroking his massive rod as I ran back and forth, waiting eagerly for what I had in store for him next.
I returned, grabbed his hand, and headed him back to his makeshift bed, which I stood on in order to get face-to-beautiful-face with him. His eyes again locked on to my eyes, all that blue drawing me in like a magnet, until his big, full, soft lips were at last on mine. A spark passed between us, causing him to jump forward, to press the fullness of his muscle-dense body against my own. He exhaled hard into my mouth, his chilled breath coursing into my lungs.
“Fuck good, yeah?” he groaned.
“Yeah,” I sighed, mashing my mouth against his, as our tongues did a mid-air ballet.
Some time later, we both ended up on the bed, thrashing around in all that dense fur, his legs wrapped around my waist and my now-sheathed and lubed prick butting up against his crinkled chute.
He seemed to know that one belonged in the other, and inched his massive frame into me, until the tip of my prick just barely entered inside of him. I stared deep into his sparkling cobalt eyes, and for the briefest of seconds his confidence flickered; but then my cock slid in, deep, deep in, and the questioning turned to lust, to passion, to full-on bliss. He was feeling it, feeling the burn turn to a joy that spread from his crotch up his belly and down his spine. I could see it in his face as his eyes turned back into his head and a smile spread wide across his alabaster face.
“Fuck good, yeah,” he sighed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Each syllable stretched out into infinity as I retracted my cock, and his incredibly tight hole grabbed my swollen prick and sucked it right back in, until we were one well-oiled, or at least well-lubed, machine.
He reached down for his tree-limb-sized prick and began a slow stroke, while I began a gradual speeding up of my pummeling before letting him have it with both guns, rocketing my cock deep within and sending him into the stratosphere. His panting turned to ferocious grunts that shook the cave around us as he joined me, push for push, his ass meeting my cock with every shove.
He opened his eyes and nodded at me. He was close. Thankfully, so was I. And then I was butting up against a granite-hard prostate, and his slow stroke turned to a piston. With a final sigh and a long exhaled fuck, he exploded, his giant cock quivering in his grip as it shot and shot and shot, his white hot come drenching his white hot body, soaking him from chin to waist, and splattering my chest from right to left. And then I shot, bucking my ass into him as I filled up that rubber with a hefty load of my own, while our moans and groans and whimpers echoed and reverberated from one end of the cave to the other.
I collapsed on top of him, panting and sweat-soaked. He held me in his big, strong arms and caressed my back. “Fuck?” he asked.
“Fuck,” I replied.
It was then he pointed to himself and then at me and then to his cave, his home away from the world. He was asking me to stay, to abandon the craziness outside for the Eden he’d made for himself up on the mountaintop. I swirled the gooey mess around his perfect white body, staring mesmerized into his star-filled eyes, and replied, “Oh fuck yeah,Yeti. Fuck good, yeah.”
Inspiration for The Iceman Cometh: This is one of those which came first, the chicken or the egg, deals. Or in this case, the title or the plot. As a writer, sometimes I come up with a storyline first, or an ending that I work toward, or a beginning that I work from. In this case, the title popped into my head and I came up with the entire story from there. And since I didn’t fell like writing about an ice delivery man at the turn of the century, I was pretty much left with just a Yeti to seduce. Certainly a lot more fun than what
Eugene O'Neill had in mind when he came up with this title!
2. Jackpot
Originally appeared in [2] Magazine, Jan/Feb, 2008
I sat down and slid a twenty in; it was, sadly, the last of a once hefty wad. Vegas hadn’t been very good to me you see: Celine sucked, my hotel room faced a bank of windows, it was hotter than all hell outside and cold as an iceberg inside, and, worst of all, the convention still had a full day to go.
In other words, neither I nor my wallet could take much more abuse.
Still, I had hope. Eighty quarters, that twenty dollars I mentioned, was sixteen shots at a small fortune. Heck, three quarters could be parlayed into, into… well, fuck, not a whole lot. Not in the grand scheme of things, anyhow. So I nursed my free rum and Coke, not to mention that old Andrew Jackson, and prayed for a miracle. Given that not many had happened in the past couple of millennia, I wasn’t holding my breath. But then…
“Fish ain’t biting?” came the voice from the newly occupied seat next to mine.
“I think the fish are swimming up the wrong stream,” I replied, watching in dismay as a pair of sevens couldn’t quite bring themselves to become a trio.
“Maybe all you need is better bait,” he added.
“Bait’s almost gone, I’m afraid.” Which was depressingly true. The original eighty quarters was now down to a paltry five. “How ‘bout yourself?”
He laughed, a deep baritone chuckle that shook my bones like a cupful of dice. It was a laugh that sounded not too unfamiliar. A hot spark crept up my spine as I tried to place it, knowing that I’d heard it somewhere before. “Take a look for yourself,” he replied.
I glanced over. In his big mitt of a hand, he held a silver money clip with enough bills to choke an elephant. Again he laughed, the sound rumbling through me like an earthquake. It was then that the light bulb went off above my head. Like a snowflake, no two laughs are exactly alike; his was no exception. In fact, his couldn’t have been more different from just about anyone else’s – not ten years earlier and certainly not that fateful day. Slowly, I lifted my chin, my eyes traveling up his narrow waist and broad chest, eventually landing on two eyes as brilliant as gemstones, sparkling in the lights of the machines in front of us.
“Tom?” I barely managed to ask in a whisper.
The smile was replaced by a look of out-and-out surprise. “Chuck?” he practically shouted. “That you?” He slapped my back. “What are the odds?”
His slap knocked my hand against the slot machine, sending the reels spinning lightning-fast. I turned and watched, rapt in amazement, as a red seven was quickly followed by a white seven and then a blue seven, blue as the eyes I felt boring into me. My heart leapt to my throat as my last five quarters started multiplying, and the machine, like a choir of angels, played its joyous winning tune, repeating over and over and over again, until at last it stopped as suddenly as it had started.
“Seems like you caught a big-ass fish,” came the voice again, the sound even more mesmerizing than the machine’s.
Once more I turned to look at his handsome face, even more stunning than when last I saw it, the day we graduated from high school. “Guess I finally found the right bait.”
He smiled and winked at me, causing me to spill the remainder of my drink into my lap. “Fuck,” I shouted, jumping up and splashing the remnants from my slacks onto his.
He stared down at the mess I’d made and then pointed to the number of quarters now registering on my slot machine. “Oh well, looks like you can afford to buy us both a new pair.”
And then it was my turn to laugh. “Guess my luck has finally changed,” I coughed out.
“First your luck, then your pants,” he said, his laugh edged with a nervousness I hadn’t heard before. “Unless you want to walk around Vegas looking like you wet yourself.”
My face reddened at the comment. “Yep. Too bad my hotel is down The Strip, though.”
“Then your luck is holding out, Chuck. I’m staying at this fine establishment, and I have a blow dryer up in my room.”
My heart began to do a Samba in my chest. “Oh, I, um…”
“Hey, what are old friends for?” he interrupted.
Actually, we’d never been friends. I loved him from afar: me along the sidelines with the band, him on the playing field, the star quarterback. At most, we were passing acquaintances. In fact, I was surprised he even knew my name, either then or now. Still, he was right: I couldn’t walk around Vegas with a wet crotch and neither could he. “Sure,” I relented. “If you don’t mind.”
Again he patted my back. “Nah. Besides, it’s better to quit while you’re ahead.” He shook his hefty stack and pointed to the receipt I now held in my sweaty hand. I grinned, staring down at it. I was ahead, in more ways than one.
Minutes later, we were up in his suite, which overlooked The Strip far down below. I walked to the window and jealously stared down. “Wow, nice view,” I said, turning around just as he was slipping out of his slacks. I gulped. Tom, it seemed, was going commando.
“Thanks,” he said, with a snicker and a glance down at his crotch. “I like it too.” Then he pointed at my still wet pants. “Your turn now.”
Again the crimson flush spread up my neck. “Um, oh yeah,” I squeaked out, slowly reaching for my zipper as he sat on the bed, for some reason watching me undress. Then I kicked my loafers off and slid my pants to the floor. Fortunately, I was wearing underwear. Unfortunately, they too were wet, my drink having completely soaked through them.
“Guess I’ll be drying them, too,” he told me, leaning back, offering me a tantalizing view of his dangling prick, heavy, hairy nuts, and equally hairy crack. “Off with them.”
I did as he commanded, trying and failing to hide my semi-erection. He stared at it, watching it grow, inch by thick inch. Finally, he rasped, “If I pull on the arm, what are the odds that a stream of quarters will come flying out?”
I smiled at the comment. “Odds are good that if you pull on it, something will come streaming out, but it won’t be quarters.”
He jumped off the bed and strode over to me, his own cock gradually rising as he made his way. He stopped a foot in front of me, those startling pools of blue drawing me in. His hand tentatively closed the gap, reaching out to grab my now fully erect dick. My hand followed, wrapping around his tree trunk thickness. I stared hungrily down at it. “Gotta be the number one show in Vegas,” I quipped.
“And look how great your seats are,” he added, taking the last step toward me and wrapping his arms around my waist, crushing me in his steely embrace.
“Best seat in the house,” I whispered back, brushing my lips against his, which sent a flash of ecstasy up my spine, exploding in my head like a burst of fireworks. His mouth opened, allowing my tongue to slither and snake inside. He kissed me greedily, while his hands roamed freely over my back and my rump, spreading my cheeks apart so he could tickle my hole with both of his index fingers.
“Bingo,” he said into my mouth.
I moved my lips away. “It’s Vegas, Tom. I think you mean, Keno.”
“Smartass,” he chided, playfully biting down on my lower lip.
“Speaking of asses,” I said, “mind if I have a gander at yours? All those years on the sidelines watching yours run by, well, I kind of fantasized about what it might look like. Out of uniform, I mean.”
He laughed, pulled away, and jumped on the bed. Quickly, he flipped over and got on his knees for me, his butt beautifully raised in the air. “Fantasy better than the reality?” he asked.
I walked over and ran my hand appreciatively over both hairy cheeks, slapping each one in turn, before spreading him apart to reveal a perfect, pink, hair-haloed hole. “It’s no buffet at the Bellagio, but it’ll do,” I joked.
“Better taste it to make sure about that.”
“Good idea.” I bent down so that we were ass-to-face.
“Here,” he offered, pushing his fat cock in between his muscular thighs. “Just hedging my bets.”
I moaned involuntarily. It was a beautiful sight to behold. Well worth the ten year wait.
I took his plumb-thick head, already leaking with salty jizz, in my mouth. It pulsed as I sucked and licked it. He shoved it further back, gagging me with all that glorious man meat. I reached up and grabbed both his balls in one hand as I blew him, then gave a tug on his nuts, causing him to arch his back and exhale, sharply.
He let go of his prick. I pulled his balls up higher, making his Billy club point straight down. I gave it a light slap, then two. It swayed. A drop of precome dripped down in a long, sticky bead before I licked it off, allowing my tongue to work its way up, up, up his shaft, across and around his stretched scrotum, zeroing in on the sweet spot above. I breathed in, smelling the musky aroma of his ass. Then I hocked a thick wad of saliva at his hole. The spit dribbled down his crack. Quick as a wink, I lapped it up and allowed my mouth a warm, wet kiss on his ring, all while he bucked his ass in my face as I made out with his hole.
“Yeah,” he moaned, a rumble that quaked down his body and continued on through mine.
I pulled back to stare again. I couldn’t get enough of the image: his ass cheeks spread apart, slick with my spit; his hole winking up at me; his long, thick prick and massive balls hanging down. It took my very breath away.
One of my hands reached out to stroke his tool, which was like gripping a bat; the other caressed his crinkled hole. Where my tongue had previously been, a finger now slid in and up and back. I popped it out and replaced it with two. He clenched, sighed, and then allowed the intrusion. “Three’s my lucky number,” he offered.
I took the hint, gently pushing the trio to the farthest reaches of his tight, muscled hole, which I worked like a piston while I jacked his huge cock. When I began to feel the familiar hardening of his prostate, I retracted my hand. Again he sighed and then flipped over on his back. “What are you gonna stick in me now, Chuck?” he asked, with a wink and a smirk.
“I was thinking of fucking you next,” I replied.
“Good thought.” He reached over to the nightstand and removed a handy-dandy bottle of lube and a rubber.
“Bravo. What else you got in there?”
“Well,” he whispered, a slight trace of red spreading across his stubbled cheeks. “I didn’t think I’d be getting the real deal this weekend, so…” And out of the drawer he removed a fat, pink dildo.
I laughed and ran my hand across his hairy six-pack and up his flexed pecs. “Guess you won’t be needing that now,” I told him.
A devilishly playful look spread across his handsome face. “Well, just because you’re fucking me doesn’t mean I can’t fuck you at the same time, does it?”
In my long list of firsts, that was one I never thought I’d get offered. In fact, I doubted it had ever even crossed my twisted mind before. I leaned down across his stunning body and once more pressed my lips to his, before moving my mouth to his ear. “You want to fuck me with that?” I whispered, gently nibbling on his lobe. “While I fuck you?”
He moaned and then replied, “Kind of like betting on red and black, and winning on both.”
I nodded and grinned, staring intently into his laser-intense eyes. “It’s a good day for winning then, Tom,” I told him. “Deal me in. Or whatever you say in Roulette, to use your analogy.”
He was up in a flash, flipping me on my back and lifting my legs up in the air. “See, Chuck, it wasn’t just you who was dying to get a glimpse of someone’s ass. You shoulda seen yours in that tight blue band uniform. Man, that was a pretty sight.” He looked longingly at my upturned rump and smiled, adding, “Still is a pretty sight, my friend. Still is.” His mouth was on my body in a heartbeat, sucking and licking and slurping on my cock and balls and asshole, while his hands worked my hard nipples, pulling on them until the whole of my back was off the bed.
Then I felt the cool, slick lube being spread around my crack. He opened me up with two of his sausage-like fingers before placing the head of the dildo up against my bung hole. Slowly, gently, patiently, he glided it in. The familiar warm burn spread up my ass and melted in my tummy. He took his time working the entire phallus up my rear, waiting for me to relax and allow the penetration. Eventually, the entirety of it was nestled up my bum.
“My turn,” he said, eagerly, reaching for the rubber, which he slid over my cock, before greasing it up with the lube. Then he stood up on the bed and straddled me, facing me as he squatted over my cock, rubbing his asshole against the tender head. It was a joy to watch this big, beautiful man, a look of pure unadulterated glee spread across his face, as he sat on my dick, taking the length and breadth of it up his ass in one fell swoop. “Yeah,” he groaned as I filled him up.
“Yeah,” I echoed, when he reached behind himself to push and prod at the dildo.
He rose up and down on my cock. I thrust my prick deep inside of him, and he did the same with the dildo. Soon enough, we were double fucking one another, keeping a matching rhythm. Waves of pleasure flowed through both my cock and asshole. And, judging by the look on his face, I could tell he was feeling the same.
He bent down to suck on one of my nipples, teasing and licking and biting on it, which caused me to thrash and squirm on the rocking bed, and made the dildo ricochet around my innards. Naturally, I returned the favor, reaching around to tug and torment both of his hair-rimmed nips.
“Man, that feels good,” he sighed, in between mind-wrenching slurps.
“Ditto,” I groaned, pummeling his ass, filling him up without a centimeter to spare.
He sat back up, never taking those amazing eyes off of me, and ground down heavily on my dick, his hard, hairy ass mashing into my balls, which had already began their gradual lift to the inevitable.
“Close, my friend. Real close,” he moaned loudly, nodding his head and smiling radiantly down at me.
When I too was close, I spit into my hand and began a slow, steady stroke on his mammoth cock. He stared me deep in the eyes and again nodded. I picked up the pace on his prick and he began to ride mine like a speed demon, all while the dildo pushed, pushed, pushed at my ever-hardening prostate, over and over again, making every nerve ending in my body twitch and tingle.
The final yeah we both groaned as one, as I shot a heavy load up his ass, and his cock quivered and erupted, sending a steady stream of white hot come out across my chest and belly. His entire sweat-covered body tensed and then quivered before he collapsed on top of me, smothering my mouth with perfect kisses. When he popped the dildo out of my ass and I did the same with my cock from his, I began to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, gently tweaking my nipples.
I looked deep into his sparkling blue eyes and replied, “This. Meeting you again. Your comment, what are the odds? I mean, seriously, what are the odds?” Again I laughed, running my hand across his hairy lower back.
Only he didn’t echo my laughter with his own. “Um, well…”