We Were Strangers… Until the Elevator Stopped

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Watch full erotic video here

I wasn’t supposed to be there that late.
The office building was almost silent, except for the hum of the elevator as I stepped inside. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it — I just wanted to get home.


The doors slid closed. That’s when she slipped in.


She didn’t glance at me at first, just pressed the button for the 18th floor and stood with a grace that made the quiet feel heavier. Her perfume was the kind you notice once… and then can’t forget. Warm, soft, like it carried a secret.


We were strangers. Just two people in an elevator.
Or at least, that’s what I thought.


The elevator jerked suddenly, and then… stopped.


I felt the shift — the silence after the hum, the faint flicker of the lights. She looked at me then, her dark eyes calm but curious.


“Guess we’re stuck,” she said, the corners of her mouth curling into the faintest smile.


I pressed the emergency button, but nothing happened. My phone had no signal. It was just her and me, suspended between floors in a metal box.


She leaned casually against the wall, as though this was no more than an unexpected pause in her night. “Ever been stuck before?” she asked.


“In an elevator? No,” I replied. “But I guess there’s a first time for everything.”


She smiled at that — a slow, knowing smile — and took a step closer. Not enough to crowd me, but enough that I felt the shift in the air.


It wasn’t until then that I noticed her eyes weren’t just curious. They were assessing, like she was trying to decide what kind of person I was.


“Looks like we’ve got time to get to know each other,” she said softly.


I chuckled. “And how exactly do we do that?”


Her gaze lingered on me for a moment before she replied. “Simple. You tell me something real. Something you wouldn’t normally say to a stranger.”


Her words hung in the air between us, heavier than they should have been.


I hesitated. “That’s a lot to ask.”


She tilted her head, her hair falling over her shoulder. “That’s the point. Time’s frozen here. No one will ever know what we say.”


I don’t know why, but I told her. Something small at first — a fear I never admitted, a dream I rarely voiced. She listened like it mattered, her eyes never leaving mine.


When I finished, she stepped closer again, until I could see the faint dimple in her cheek. “Your turn,” I said.


She smiled faintly. “Alright. Something real…”


Her voice softened. “I don’t like feeling out of control. But… sometimes I wonder what would happen if I stopped fighting it.”


I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I felt it — in the way she held my gaze, in the way her words seemed to hum in my chest.


The space between us shrank again. I could see the soft rise and fall of her breathing, feel the faint warmth radiating from her. The elevator was cool, but she was close enough to change that.


“Do you believe in moments?” she asked suddenly.


“Moments?”


“The kind that change things. That take you from one version of yourself… to another.”


I thought about it. “Yeah. I do.”


Her eyes locked on mine. “I think this might be one.”


The way she said it made my pulse skip.


We didn’t touch. Not yet. But it felt like we already had — like the air itself was pressing us closer.


The hum of the building was gone. All I heard was her breathing and my own.


She glanced at my hand, then back to my face. “May I?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.


I didn’t know what I was agreeing to until her fingers brushed against mine. It was the lightest touch — a test.


When I didn’t pull away, she let her hand settle against mine. Warm, steady. But not still.


Her thumb traced slow, absent circles against my skin, and I felt it everywhere.


“You’re calm,” she observed quietly. “Most people would be panicking by now.”


“Maybe I am,” I said, “just not for the reason you think.”


Her lips curved into the faintest, most dangerous smile. “Then maybe we’re thinking the same thing.”


We stood there like that — not speaking, not moving — the rest of the world forgotten.


When the elevator finally jolted back to life, neither of us moved our hands.


The doors opened on her floor. She hesitated before stepping out, looking over her shoulder.


“Maybe,” she said, “we’ll get stuck again.”


And then she was gone.

She Said It Was Just a Game… Until I Touched Her

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Watch Full Erotic Video Here
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The night had started innocently enough — at least, that’s what I told myself.


We were sitting in the corner of the old bar on 9th Street, the one with low amber lights and music that was too soft for the way our eyes kept locking. She’d been my friend for years, always quick with a sarcastic remark, always that spark in her laugh that felt like a dare I hadn’t yet taken.


She leaned over the table, the warmth of her breath brushing my cheek as she whispered, “Let’s play a game.”


Her voice was velvet wrapped around mischief. “Truth or Dare,” she clarified, smiling like she already knew I wouldn’t back down.


I smirked. “You’re forgetting something, Sophie. I always win.”


She tilted her head, eyes catching the light in a way that made my chest tighten. “Then prove it.”


The first few rounds were harmless — questions about old crushes, silly dares like taking a sip of someone else’s drink. But every answer, every risk, carried a little more weight. Every time her fingers brushed mine across the table, my pulse jumped.


It wasn’t until she leaned in again, her eyes locking with mine like she was about to steal a secret, that she dared me.
“Touch me.”


The words hit me harder than the whiskey I’d been nursing.


I laughed — not because it was funny, but because I needed something to break the tension. “That’s your dare?”


She only shrugged, her lips curved into something dangerous. “Unless you’re scared.”


The bar seemed to fade. The low hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses — all of it dissolved into the space between us. My hand moved before my mind caught up, fingers brushing against hers.


It was barely contact. A simple graze. But she didn’t pull back.


Her eyes searched mine, and something shifted. The game stopped being a game.


I traced my thumb along the side of her hand, feeling the way her skin warmed under the touch. She leaned in closer, so close I could smell the faint sweetness of her perfume — the one she wore only on nights she wanted to be remembered.


“Not bad,” she murmured, but her voice trembled just enough for me to hear what she wasn’t saying.


I let my fingers trail up her wrist, slow, deliberate. Her breathing changed. She kept her gaze on me, but I could see the way her shoulders rose and fell, each inhale a little sharper than the last.


“You’re making it too easy to win,” I said, my voice low.


Her smile softened, her confidence dipping into something more vulnerable. “Maybe… I want you to win.”


Something in my chest clenched. This wasn’t the Sophie I’d always known — the one who hid behind wit and boldness. This was someone who was letting me in, piece by piece, with every heartbeat we shared in the silence.


The music in the background slowed, or maybe I was just hearing it differently now. My hand slid higher, fingers brushing the soft inside of her forearm. She shivered.


And that’s when I knew.


It wasn’t the touch that was undoing her. It was the fact that I was reading every unspoken thought in her eyes, hearing the yes she didn’t dare say out loud.


I leaned in, so close that the tips of our noses nearly touched. “Still just a game?” I asked.


She swallowed, her gaze dropping to my lips for half a second before darting back up. “…Not anymore.”


The air between us was electric. Her fingers found my knee under the table, resting there like a promise. She didn’t squeeze. She didn’t move. But I felt the weight of that touch as if it was the only thing grounding me.


Her laugh returned, soft but shaky. “Your turn,” she whispered.


“I thought I’d already taken it.”


She tilted her head, studying me with a mix of challenge and surrender. “Then maybe… it’s mine now.”


I wanted to say something clever. I wanted to keep the balance of the game in my hands. But the truth was, she’d already taken it from me the moment she dared me to touch her.


The bartender came by to ask if we wanted another round, but neither of us looked away from the other. I barely heard my own voice when I said, “No.”


She leaned back just enough to break the spell, her fingers slipping away from mine. But the smile she left me with was a silent promise.


And I knew — whatever game we had been playing… it wasn’t over.

Word of Mouth
Chapter One: The First Job

I started the handyman gig because I needed money and didn’t want to stack shelves all summer. I was good with tools, liked fixing things, and figured it would be easy enough to throw up some flyers and take a few odd jobs around the neighborhood. My mom said I always had a quiet charm. People trusted me fast. Maybe it was the way I smiled. Or the way I listened more than I talked.

Nate Bellamy was my first real client. He lived in a newer part of town where all the houses looked rich without trying too hard. Tall hedges, clean driveways, slate roofs that probably cost more than my car. I pulled up that first morning a little early, still in my work shirt and jeans, hoping I looked the part.

He opened the door with a coffee in hand and barely glanced at the tools in my trunk before waving me in. Said the deck needed looking at. Couple things in the garage too. And the doorframe upstairs that kept sticking. He was older than I expected. Late thirties, maybe early forties. Tall. Built like he actually used his gym membership. Hair trimmed neat, jawline sharp enough to make me blink when he smiled.

He watched me work. Not in a weird way. Just quiet and present. Like he was trying to figure out if I actually knew what I was doing. Every now and then I’d glance up and catch him leaning in the doorway, thumb grazing his jaw.

At first, I chalked it up to curiosity. He probably didn’t get a lot of twenty-year-olds fixing shit around his place. But when I bent to check the rotting edge of the deck and felt his eyes stick to the curve of my back, I knew.

By midday, I needed a break. I stepped into the shade and pulled out my phone. Checked the time, swiped through messages. I wondered what Grindr would be like somewhere like this, so I opened it, just to see. I hadn’t even tapped on anything when I felt it. A presence behind me. Quiet and far too close.

“You that horny, you can’t make it through the day?”

My spine went rigid. I turned and Nate was right there, water bottle in hand, the kind of calm expression that told me he’d been watching long enough to get a kick out of it.

“I…”

He raised a brow, not angry. Just amused. “If you're gonna check out what’s nearby, maybe do it where your client’s not watching.” My mouth went dry. He didn’t wait for a response. Just turned and walked toward the house.

“You coming in, or do I need to put you over my shoulder?”

I followed him, I couldn’t speak. I could just feel the heat building in my chest, competing with my rising heartbeat. The inside was cool. Darker than I expected. He led me past the kitchen into what was obviously his man cave. Wood floors, leather armchair, big TV mounted on the wall. The blinds were closed just enough to keep the light low.

He sat in the Chesterfield chair like it was a throne. Legs spread. One arm resting on the side. He didn’t bother with small talk. “Come here.” I stepped closer. My mouth was still dry.

“On your knees.” I was shocked, but I dropped fast. He undid his zipper and pulled himself out. His dick was cut, average in length, but it was thick enough to make my stomach flip.

“This what you were hoping for when you checked that app?” I nodded. “Use your mouth, then.”

I leaned in and licked the tip first. Slow. He exhaled and cupped the back of my head. “Good boy,” he murmured. “That’s daddy’s boy now.” I moaned against him. Took more. Let my lips slide down until I gagged and he groaned.

“That’s it. Keep going. I want to see that sweet little throat take it all.” I did as I was told. My eyes watered, jaw aching, spit pooling at the corners of my mouth. He didn’t fuck my face, not yet. Just held me there, guiding my rhythm, watching with that same calm hunger of a man that was used to being in control.

When he finally tensed and let out a low grunt, I swallowed everything. He brushed a thumb along my cheek and tucked himself away. “There’s more work tomorrow,” he said, standing. “Same time.” I stayed kneeling, breath heavy, chin wet.

He looked down at me once more before walking out.

“Don’t be late.”


Link in profile to read ahead or for more of my stories

It started as whispers on late-night forums, a ripple in the digital ocean that only the curious could feel. The phrase ari kytsya leak began appearing in bold threads, clickbait headlines, and half-hidden tweets. At first, it seemed like just another fleeting rumor—but then the first image surfaced, and everything changed.


Ari Kytsya had always carried an aura of mystery. She wasn’t just beautiful; she was magnetic. Her followers loved her not only for her stunning looks but for the way she could pull someone in with a single glance, like she was telling them a secret meant only for them. But now, with the ari kytsya leak making its rounds, that secret felt… different.


The leaked content didn’t just show Ari—it told a story. In every frame, there was a spark, a hint of danger, and a knowing smile that seemed to challenge the viewer. She didn’t look caught off guard; she looked like she was in control, like she knew exactly what she was doing. That confidence made the ari kytsya leak spread even faster.


By midnight, the internet was on fire. Forums couldn’t refresh fast enough. Search engines were flooded with the keyword ari kytsya leak, climbing into trending spots worldwide. People didn’t just want to see what happened—they wanted to feel it, to understand the allure that had the whole world leaning in closer.


Some said it was an invasion of privacy, others whispered that maybe Ari herself had a hand in it. After all, the lighting was perfect, the angles almost cinematic. If it was accidental, it was the most beautifully timed accident in history.


The more people looked, the more they noticed the subtleties—the way her hair fell perfectly over one shoulder, the faint curve of her lips as if holding back a laugh, the undeniable energy between her and whoever was behind the camera. It wasn’t just about the body; it was about the connection, the chemistry that almost crackled through the screen.


In the days following, Ari didn’t post a denial. She didn’t post anything at all. And that silence was louder than any statement. Fans and critics alike dissected every frame, every expression. The ari kytsya leak wasn’t fading away—it was becoming a legend, a modern digital mystery.


It reminded people of the intoxicating thrill of the forbidden, that rush of finding something you’re not supposed to see. Except this time, it wasn’t just about exposure—it was about seduction. Ari Kytsya wasn’t the kind of person you stumbled upon by accident; she was the kind you chased, and the ari kytsya leak gave people a reason to run faster.


Weeks later, it was still being discussed in hushed tones and bold headlines. And somewhere out there, Ari herself knew the world couldn’t look away—not from her smile, not from her story, and certainly not from the night the ari kytsya leak took over the internet.

[FONT=&quot]Until about eight years ago my wife and I were practicing naturists (i.e., nudists) and I published a quarterly newsletter (peak circulation of about 2500 in 1986) focusing on naturism. Because of the newsletter I frequently received letters and phone calls from people with naturist related stories. In August 1982 I was contacted by a woman at a naturist resort in Michigan regarding alleged relationships between a eighteen year old young man and two or more older (i.e., 30+) women and unconfirmed allegations that this young man may have been sexually involved with as many as 15 other women at the resort. The following is excerpted from the article I eventually wrote regarding this matter:

"While the manager of the resort would state only that the resort is still investigating the allegations, he indicated there is substantial sentiment in the resort’s nudist community for expelling the 18 year old and his family. Speaking of the 18 year old, the manager said 'there is a feeling among many of the guests that he’s had a disruptive effect.' The manager declined to elaborate on the nature of any disruption, and conceded that the young man had not been charged with violating any of the rules of the resort. There is a distinct feeling among those sympathetic to the 18 year old, however, that the manager’s citing of a 'disruptive effect' was an oblique reference to the young man's unusually large genitals. A female nudist at the resort offered that 'this is a simple case of penis envy. They won’t admit it, but a lot of the men at this resort are threatened by the size of his penis.'”

I was at first very concerned that someone was pulling my leg on this story, so I asked my source, Janice, if she had a photo of this young man who she referred to as Ed. She said no, she didn’t, but she’d take one - she was very matter of fact about it. I asked how she knew Ed would consent to having his picture taken and she laughed and said “why shouldn’t he?” So a week later I receive a slightly overexposed polaroid of two young men posing next to a pool. One is about six inches taller than the other, and the taller one has the most enormous penis I’d ever seen, abnormally huge. He’s long-limbed, fairly large-boned frame, and sinewy; definitely slender but not skinny. His penis is circumcised and appears perfectly flaccid and it hangs more than halfway to his knees. It also appears incredibly wide. His hair looks long and stringy, like maybe he just got out of the pool. No particular body hair to speak of other than some pubic hair. The other is shorter, skinnier, unremarkable in every way. The overexposure made it difficult to make out facial features. I remember that I debated at the time whether or not to describe it as “unusually” large or “abnormally” large. I chose “unusually” because I thought it was less lubricious. I’m no longer a practicing naturist but I was at the time, and naturists are always concerned about the perception that naturism is a sexual thing. So I was very ambivalent about the article in the first place and I really tried to play down the whole “big penis” angle. A urologist I consulted after receiving a polaroid of Ed confirmed that the degree of genital overdevelopment was in fact abnormal.

This picture was truly startling. I went so far as to try to scale the picture - you know, Ed is three inches high in the picture, his penis is 3/8 of an inch, Janice tells me he’s slightly over six feet tall, etc. I remember distinctly that they indicated this young man had a nine inch flaccid penis. Janice had already offered her opinion that the men at the resort were intimidated by this young man’s size and I remember being very skeptical of that theory. I mean, differences in penis size is something that’s not new to naturists - I think flaccid penis size varies more than erect penis size. And while I wouldn’t claim that naturists don’t note the differences, I can honestly say that your bona fide naturist doesn’t dwell on it (notwithstanding that I’ve now devoted two full paragraphs to this young man’s size). But I must admit thinking that yeah, I might be intimidated by something that outrageously huge. I showed the polaroid to my wife. Her reaction appeared to me more one of stunned amazement rather than sexual arousal. Her remark upon seeing the picture was something to the effect of "my god, it's freakish."

Janice was motivated by what she perceived as blatant physiognomic discrimination on the part of the resort and the naturist community at the resort. I too found this an interesting journalistic angle and arranged for my wife and I to visit the resort. We decided that we would attempt to meet Ed and his family before making the journalistic nature of our visit known to the resort management. We met Janice immediately upon arriving at the resort and she arranged to take me to the pool area where Ed would generally be during the afternoon. My wife stayed behind at our room. We arrived at the pool and I recognized Ed from his photo. He was in the water with a friend but he immediately acknowledged Janice and climbed out of the pool. The polaroid had not prepared me for the sight of this ungodly organ in the flesh. Ed was literally hung like a horse, his flaccid penis possessing a length, girth and meatiness far beyond any penis I'd ever seen (and I'd been a practicing naturist for a decade at that point and visited more than 30 naturist resorts). In the way that all males are practiced at, I gauged the dimensions of this organ and then attempted to avoid staring. Janice, with whom Ed was plainly very friendly, invited him to a picnic she was planning for the next day. He readily accepted the invitation, so eagerly that I suspected that he'd been sexually involved with Janice (a suspicion Janice initially denied but ultimately confirmed). The plan was that my wife and I would stumble upon this picnic and would then have an opportunity to interview Ed. As we were leaving the pool area I noticed a pronounced imbalance in the male-female ratio at the pool - there was one other male besides myself and at least ten females ranging from ages 18 to 60. This struck me as unusual and I wondered whether it was attributable to the presence at the pool of this super-penis. [/FONT]

The Long Watch – Introduction​

On a frozen forward operating base, time moves differently. The nights stretch out under a sky scattered with stars, the air so cold it stings the skin, and the only sounds are the hum of generators and the wind scraping against the wire. For Corporal Evan Brooks, the midnight hours are just another part of the job, long, lonely, and uneventful.


Until he’s paired with Lance Corporal Matt Carter.


Matt is everything Evan isn’t: quick with a joke, restless, easy-going in the way only someone who thrives in discomfort can be. Their week-long assignment on the same 0300 guard shift starts like any other: small talk to pass the time, shared complaints about the cold, and the occasional brush of gloves when passing the binoculars. But as the nights tick by, the space between them starts to shrink.


A shared poncho becomes a shared warmth. Coffee turns to whiskey. Glances turn into moments that linger too long. And in the stillness of the watch, with nothing but shadows and silence around them, a different kind of tension begins to build.

​

---

Chapter 1 – Dead of Night​

The first time I pulled a 0300 watch shift, I thought it was hell. You’d think the dead of night would be peaceful, but it’s not. It’s too quiet. Every gust of wind sounds like something creeping up on you. The cold gets into your bones, the kind that no amount of gear ever really fixes.


When they told me I’d be doing it for a week straight, I wasn’t thrilled. When they told me I’d be doing it with LCpl. Matt Carter, I didn’t know what to think. I knew him in that way you know everyone on a base, nods in the chow hall, the occasional shared ride in the back of a truck. He was the kind of guy who always had a grin for the guys, the sort who could crack a joke to a senior without getting chewed out. Athletic, solid, the kind of build you get from actually liking PT instead of suffering through it.


He was already waiting at the guard post when I got there, leaning back against the sandbag wall with his rifle slung over one shoulder. His breath was fogging in the cold, and that grin was already in place.
“Brooks. Draw the short straw too?”


“Something like that,” I said, stepping into the shadow of the post. My boots crunched over the gravel, the sound swallowed by the steady hum of the generator somewhere behind us.


“Could be worse,” he said. “Could be out there.” He jerked his chin toward the wire, a dark tangle of metal under the weak moonlight, stretching out toward nothing. Past that was just the open expanse, the kind of emptiness that made your imagination work overtime.


We stood there in silence for a bit, watching the wind tease at the loose bits of tarp and netting. Every so often, a metallic clang would ring out when something knocked against the fence. I was used to it, but it was still enough to keep you on edge.


“You do this often?” I asked, more to fill the quiet than anything.


“First time this month,” he said. “I usually get stuck with daytime gate duty. More boring, less freezing.” He stamped his boots and pulled his beanie lower over his ears. The movement made his shoulders hunch, the thick fabric of his jacket straining just enough for me to notice the bulk beneath. I looked away before it turned into staring.


“Christ, it’s cold,” he muttered. He rubbed his gloved hands together, then looked over at me with a mischievous glint. “Could always cuddle up. Purely tactical.”


I smirked. “I’ll pass.”


“Suit yourself. Just don’t get hypothermia and make me have to explain it to the CO.” He turned back to scanning the wire, but the grin lingered.


We moved around the post every so often, swapping sides. The night had a way of making every sound sharper, the gravel underfoot, the click of the safety catch when you adjust your grip, the soft scuff of his boots a few feet away.


At one point, he handed me the binoculars to check a dark patch along the fence line. Our gloves brushed, nothing dramatic, but the contact was there. Solid, warm through the layers, gone too quickly to be anything but forgettable, except I didn’t.


I focused on the fence, told myself that’s why my pulse had ticked up. Just the job. Just the cold.


But every now and then, when we weren’t talking, I could feel his eyes flick my way. Not for long, not in any obvious way. Just those little glances you catch when someone’s checking if you’re still there.


By the time 0500 rolled around, my toes were numb and my hands ached, but there was a strange hum under my skin. Something about the quiet, the cold, and the solid presence beside me, it lodged in my head.


We swapped out with the next pair, and as we walked back to the barracks, he bumped my shoulder with his.
“Same time tomorrow, Brooks. Maybe I’ll bring that cuddle blanket.”


I shook my head, but I was smiling. “Don’t push your luck.”


He grinned wider. “You’ll change your mind.”


The barracks door swung shut behind us, and I realized I was actually looking forward to the next night.

---

Chapter 2 – The Poncho​

The second night was colder. The kind of cold that stings your cheeks and makes your eyes water. The wind had picked up too, threading through every gap in the sandbag wall and finding its way down the back of your neck no matter how tight you cinched your jacket.


I found Matt already there again, leaning against the wall like it wasn’t freezing, his breath puffing out in little clouds. He gave me the same grin, but this time it was hidden behind the rim of a paper cup.


“Brought coffee,” he said, holding it out.


I took it, the heat seeping into my gloves. “What, no whiskey tonight?”


“Can’t start too strong,” he said. “Gotta ease you in, like foreplay.”


I gave him a look over the rim of the cup. “You really say that to all your watch partners?”


“Only the ones worth keeping warm,” he shot back, and there it was again, that spark in his eyes that didn’t quite match the casual words.


The wind cut in hard from the left, carrying a spray of grit that stung my cheek. Matt shifted, pulling a bundled poncho from where it was hooked over the corner post. “Alright, this is happening,” he said, shaking it out.


I laughed. “You’re not serious.”


“I’m deadly serious. Unless you enjoy freezing your ass off, in which case I’ll put it away and let you suffer.”


Before I could answer, he’d stepped closer, holding the poncho up like some oversized cloak. The smell of him hit me first, soap faint under the day’s sweat, coffee on his breath, the tang of canvas from the poncho. He didn’t wait for permission, just slung one half over my shoulder and pulled it around both of us.


The difference was instant. Our shoulders pressed together, hips brushing as we adjusted to fit under the same space. The fabric snapped and fluttered in the wind, forcing us to close the gap even more.


“See? Tactical genius,” he murmured, settling the edge of the poncho behind my back. “They should give me a medal.”


“You’d take a medal for cuddling?”


“Hell yeah. Medal of Honor for keeping Brooks alive through body heat.”


I shook my head, but I didn’t move away. Couldn’t, really, there wasn’t enough room under the poncho, and moving would just let the cold in. My arm brushed his every time I shifted the rifle sling, and each little bump felt like it stayed longer than it should.


For a while we just stood like that, scanning the wire. The wind tugged at the tarp overhead, making it groan. Somewhere far off, a metal panel clanged in the gusts. Every so often, his glove would bump mine when we adjusted our stance, or our elbows would knock gently. Nothing intentional, probably.


“You ever think about how much time we spend just… waiting?” Matt said eventually, voice quieter now.


“All the time,” I said. “It’s most of the job.”


“Feels like this bit’s the real test,” he said. “The boring, cold hours. Anyone can do the flashy stuff when it kicks off. Not everyone can stand still and just be here.”


I glanced sideways at him. In the dim light, his face was sharper, his grin gone for the moment. There was something about the way he was looking at the fence, calm, steady, like nothing could rattle him.


“You ever get used to it?” he asked suddenly.


“The cold?”


“Yeah. Or…” He trailed off, then smirked again. “Nah, just the cold.”


We fell quiet again. My shoulder had gone from cold to comfortably warm against his. The poncho was trapping our body heat, and I could feel his breathing slow beside me. A gust of wind rattled the wire and he leaned a fraction closer without seeming to notice.


When our gloves brushed again, neither of us moved them straight away. His hand stayed there a second longer than was necessary, and then he gave a low chuckle and pulled away.


“What?” I asked.


“Nothing,” he said, that grin slipping back into place. “You’ll get used to it.”

---

Chapter 3 – Conversations in the Dark​

By the third night the cold had settled into my bones before I even reached the guard post. The sky was cloudless, the stars sharp and cold, and the moon hung low over the wire like it was watching us. The wind had eased off but the temperature had dropped, turning the air thin and brittle.


Matt was already leaning on the sandbags again, rifle slung casually, breath rising in steady clouds. He had that half-smile, the one that looked like he was already thinking of something to say.


“You look thrilled to be here,” he said.


I gave a short laugh and pulled my collar up higher. “Just counting down the hours until sunrise.”


“See, that’s your problem. You keep thinking about the end instead of just being in it.”


“In what? Freezing my ass off?”


“In the moment,” he said, turning toward me with a mock-serious look. “You need to embrace the art of guard duty. The stillness. The quiet. The shared misery.”


“Sounds like something you read on a poster.”


He grinned wider. “Maybe I did. Maybe I wrote the poster.”


We fell into a rhythm after that, trading remarks as we paced slowly along the short stretch of wire. The gravel crunched under our boots, and every so often the sound of the generator hummed through the dark. At one point we both stopped and looked up at the stars. Out here they looked impossibly clear, the kind you never saw back home.


“Used to camp as a kid,” Matt said after a while. “My old man would take me fishing in the middle of nowhere. We’d sleep out under the sky like this. I hated it at the time. Thought it was boring.”


“And now?”


He gave a small shrug. “Now I’d give a lot to be lying on a bit of grass instead of standing here with a rifle and freezing toes.”


I smiled at that. “I grew up in a city. Streetlights drowned out everything. First time I saw a sky like this was on basic.”


Matt glanced at me, then looked back at the horizon. “Guess that’s one good thing we get out of this gig. Not many people get to see the world like this.”


We stood quietly for a moment, the kind of silence that wasn’t uncomfortable. Then he spoke again, softer this time.


“You ever think about what you’d be doing if you weren’t here?”


“All the time,” I admitted. “You?”


“Yeah.” He hesitated, then laughed lightly. “Probably something stupid. I was never much good at sticking with one thing.”


“Surprised you made it through training then.”


“Same,” he said with a smirk. “Guess I like a challenge.” His eyes lingered on me a moment longer than they needed to, and there was a weight in it I couldn’t quite place.


We walked the perimeter again. On the way back, he pulled a flask from his pocket. “Coffee. Real coffee. Not the powdered crap.”


I took it, the warmth seeping through my gloves, and when I handed it back our fingers touched. Just a small contact, but it felt deliberate this time. He didn’t pull away immediately.


The rest of the shift passed with more quiet than talk, but not the empty kind. Every sound felt amplified, every glance a little longer. When the relief arrived and we walked back to the barracks, Matt bumped my shoulder like he had before.


“Three down,” he said. “Four to go. You’re not sick of me yet, right?”


I shook my head. “Not yet.”


“Good,” he said, smiling to himself. “Because I’ve got more stories. And maybe something better than coffee tomorrow.”


I didn’t ask what he meant. I just found myself wondering about it for the rest of the night.

It was hot, it was humid and by mid-afternoon my mind was numb.
The new computer all installed and set up, just a few loose ends to tie up - later.
I showered, dried and flopped out on my bed. The old computer was running in the corner in case I wanted to check things.
On auto I brought up LPSG and found some naughty pics of asked men doing very naughty things.
Still naked after my shower my hand strayed to my crotch, found my nob and slowly brought it to life, gentle stroke, nothing to hurried, just doing my thing in my time while I admired and lusted what was on the screens.
Pre cum, don't waste, lubed my nipples, gosh that feels good, feeling sexed I found a dildo and lube and slipped it in, doing what was needed, making sure each thrust in was doing its job, enjoying the retraction and waiting for the depths to be plumbed again.
What a blissful way to spend the day, knees up so my hole could enjoy its ass fucking, eyes glued on the screen.
And then I saw a movement.
Let me fill you in. Computer in one corner of the room, my been the other side. Outside the window loads of shrubs but a path runs along the back and its secluded.
The guy who was delivering some compost was there, eyes glued to the screen as the pictures changed, guys screwing guys sucking guy kissing guys, his hand was holding his firm cock, slowly wanking, enjoying the show, his cock out of the coveralls zipper but very firm.
I lay back, cock erect, wanking, made a movement he had to see.
He saw me, I smiled, he stopped wanking but I was there, opened the window, come in, see more, you might as well come in and cum in comfort.
He did. He sat on the bed. Eyes glued to the screen as the pictures flashed. #
I leaned in, pulled his zipper right down.
You'll find it easier naked, like me.
He laid back against the bedhead, his body exposed where the coveralls fell open, his hard uncut cock pointing upwards and slowly began to wank.
His breathing got faster, I leaned in, took his hand from his cock and put mine there, he was responsive, his eyes on the screen as the porn rolled on. I put his hand on my cock, he gripped it, began to wank me.
I eased him out of his clothes, he was enthralled by the moving pictures, I laid on top of him, we frotted, his cock all juicy and wet, our bodies slipped as we thrust hips.
We kissed, he wanted to see the screen, I went down on him, he gasped as my mouth engulfed his manhood, my nose buried in his hot sweaty pre cum filled bush, awesome.
On the screen a lad on all fours about to be mounted by another guy. The guy lubed his shaft and then slowly eased in. I lubed my guys cock, his eyes rolled. I got into doggy. "fuck me" I ordered.
He lubed cock slipped into my eager willing hole, already opened up from my previous playing.
Hed shagged me, he really did shag me, one eye watching the pictures of the lad being fucked and he followed suit, whatever they did he did to me, my nipples ached, my ring felt it was being used and my balls about to explode when he had his orgasm, not a quiet one, but load, vocal and thrust extra deep to shoot his load.
Exhausted he lay on top of me, watching the screen, his cock still inside me, watching the guy still scrfewing, his firm ass rising and falling, his hands groping the lad and pulling him into no positions.
I felt him stir, inside me he rose again, a ferocious fucking and a second coming, and still there guy fucking the lad hadn't had an orgasm.
I pulled off, gripped tight so I didn't leak.
He looked and grinned. "always thought you'd be a good fuck - not wrong".
He got dressed, "better do your delivery now - good thing its the last on the list"
I looked at him and yes, I'd seen him about and yes thought he was straight as a die, very butch and manual, nothing fem about him at all, my gayda had failed.
"so, do you wanna see if I am a good fuck again"?
He grinned "I got your number, be in touch", and he leaned in and kissed me lightly on the lips "but next time we wont want porn".
And we didn't, ever!

So this happened a while back while on a family holiday to Spain during my gap year (I would have been about 19 or so)…

I was traveling with my family and horned up non-stop from ogling guys on Grindr but being totally unable to do anything about it Plus south of Spain is gorgeous, with hot shirtless dads and lads at every beach. So I was going kind of feral…

After a late dinner one night (coz people in Spain eat at like 9/9:30) where I had a bunch of drinks, I’m back in my room at the hotel and open Grindr thinking I’d just have a wank. This hot guy messages me… his profile says he’s 34, a top, and from his photo I see he’s got striking blue eyes and blond hair. Alright I think!

We start chatting. He’s German and also on holiday. I don’t let on right away that I can’t meet coz I want to see his private photos, and they didn’t disappoint! He had a long, thick uncut dick and a lean muscular body. He loves my photos and says he wants to lick and fuck my arse… ooof.

I tell him I can’t accommodate coz I’m with family, and I don’t have a car… he then says something surprising - he’s goat a small boat, he’s on the boat, and he happens to be nearby….! He sends a photo from what looks like a zodiac with my hotel in the distance.

Immediately my heart starts racing and my dick gets hard. Maybe it was the drinks talking, but when else would the universe provide a chance like this?? I quietly walk down the hall to my parents room, put my ear against the door, and hear them snoring… done.

“Btw your hotel has a public dock so it’ll be easy to pick you up ” he says, before adding “ever been fucked on a boat, under the stars?? c’mon you only live once “

I pause for a moment, my head and dick racing… “Okay this is crazy but I’m in… just plz don’t turn out to be a murderer” I say back.

“Don’t worry I’ll take good care of you “ he says. “ETA five mins”

I quickly brushed my teeth, screenshotted the convo and sent it to my mate just in case, and quietly slipped out of my room, heading down to the beach and dock.

Sure enough I see a small boat pulled up at the end of the dock. It was the same zodiac from the photo - maybe 16 feet long - with a captains chair and steering wheel at the back, with an open, empty front. As I was walked closer I could feel my heart pounding and an electricity flowing through me.

My date (and captain) for the night was standing in the boat with his hand outstretched. He was taller than expected - about 6’2” (I’m 5’9”) - had messy blond hair, a tan, and short stubble. He wore an unbuttoned linen shirt over a tank top and khaki cargo shorts. He was smooth in his photos but chest hair was clearly visible. Also it was dark and hard to see his face from the dock but I got the immediate feeling he was 34 at least a few years ago…

But my dick was committed to the plan, so I took his hand and boarded the boat. “Welcome aboard” he said with a noticeable German accent, grinning. I got a closer look and immediately thought, “yup, older photos…” - the whole package was still quite handsome though…

“Let’s get us some privacy” he said, flashing another grin. “Have a seat, it’ll just take a few minutes, I know somewhere private”.

I initially sat sort of in the middle of the boat, not sure what to do, but he motioned for me to sit beside him on the bench behind the wheel. He put his hand on my inner thigh, gave it a reassuring squeeze, and then we pulled away from the dock as the engines whirled to life.

It was too loud to talk over the engines so we sat in silence for those 7-8 minutes as we made our way to the grotto. Between the ocean breeze, starry night, buzz from dinner drinks, eroticism of this handsome man keen to fuck my arse, and his hand slowly moving up my inner thigh, I was positively gooning!!

After we pulled in and dropped anchor, he lit a cigarette and asked if I wanted a puff. “Sure” I said, before immediately going into a coughing fit. “You don’t smoke weed?” he asked. “I thought it was a cig!” I said, still coughing slightly. He smiled and took a drag before putting out the joint.

“You are so damn cute” he said, his steel blue eyes locking onto mine, as his hand moved up to my crotch which immediately started to bulge. He then took my hand and placed it on his crotch, which had a massive bulge running down his inner thigh. “I am so hard to fuck you” he said, before moving in for a kiss.

His stubble bristled against my cheek but felt so amazing. As we slowly kissed his hands exploded my body, gripping it all over. I started to do the same and was immediately taken back by how firm and toned his body was.

He pulled back from kissing and said “come”, taking my hand and moving us to the open area of the boat. He sat on the bow, unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his shorts, and motioned me over. “This was it”, I thought, “this is really fucking happening!!”

I got on my knees, unzipped his shorts, felt the massive bulge under his briefs, and then pulled them down to his ankles. A giant, thick, penis wet with precum dangled inches from my face. Looking back, my best guess it was somewhere around 8-8.5 inches long with an even girth along the shaft. The smell of musk and precum was intoxicating.

I slowly stroked his dick in admiration before plunging it into my mouth, and soon, throat (letting out a small gag). My tongue focused on the underside of his shaft while my hands worked in unison with my neck to jerk and suck rhythmically. I could hear moans of pleasure coming from above me, and his hand started guiding my mouth up and down his beautiful dick.

He suddenly pulled me off him and motioned for a kiss. “I don’t want to finish here… we have lots more to do” he said with a grin. He took off his shirt and tank top, and kicked off his shorts. It was dark but the moonlight illuminated the frame of a fit, lean, man approaching 40 (if not 40) with a slightly hairy chest that contrasted his messy blond hair.

The man moved forward and laid me back onto a makeshift pile of life jackets. “Time for you to get naked”, he said with that signature grin, as he took off my shirt, pulled down my shorts, and then finally peeled off my underwear. He stopped to admire my 5’9”, mostly smooth body, before propping up my behind under some of our clothes.

He reached back for a bottle and squirted some lube onto his thick long dick. He squirted some on my exposed arse and begun probing with a finger.

“No I prefer the real thing!” I said, as his finger tried to penetrate my hole. “Oh ya? Good…” he said, before laying down on top of me.

I could feel his slippery cockhead was dripping with precum as it starting poking against my arse, as he gyrated his hips while slowly kissing me all over. I don’t know if it was the weed, booze, or just the electric eroticism of it all, but I could feel the tension melt away as his dick head made contact with and started to enter my rectum.

I vividly remember laying on my back, staring up at the stars, when the last of the tension gave way and his whole dick slide into my arse.

“Ffuuuucckkk” he groaned, as I let out my own gasp at feeling him inside of me. He gripped my body tight with his muscular arms as my legs wrapped around his waist.

He preferred long, slow, and deep penetration to rapid thrusting. I had had some bottom experience by this point but never with such a big dick that could simultaneously massage my prostate with its length while stretching out my rectum with pleasurable pain. Each thrust was a rush of roller coaster intensity as I clung on to his muscular body while staring up at the stars. I had never felt what I was feeling from this man’s giant dick inside of me.

I don’t know how long we went but his pace soon picked up - I knew he was close. He began grunting and thrusting harder until he let out an audible moan, his sweaty body collapsing on me. After a few deep breaths he perched up, kissed me deeply, and then asked if I came.

“I… I’m not sure to be honest” I stammered. I looked down and saw my flaccid dick surrounded by a pool of cum.

“Well that’s not mine, so you must have had a good time” he winked.

He lay down with me on the makeshift bed from life vests and we chatted for a bit. His name was Lars, he was from Hamburg, he owned auto parts company, and he had a vacation home in the south of Spain. And no, he wasn’t 34 - he was 40. He came out later in life and had two adult children from an earlier marriage. “We were babies having babies… I never had time to find out who I was… I should get a credit in gay years” he said with a smile.

As we each took another drag from the joint, I told him about my boring suburban life in the UK, and my plans for uni. “When you graduate, come work for me” he joked.

The pillow talk soon turned sexual… when was our first time, have we had three ways, biggest fantasy, etc.

Lars was clearly getting turned on, as he started gently massaging my pried open hole. The feeling of that with the sea breeze blowing over the cum leaking from my arse was something I’ll never forget. I could feel his dick starting to engorge and press against my leg.

“Mmmm how about round 2?” he said with a smile.

“Mate I wasn’t sure I’d make it through round 1!” I said back.

He chuckled and turned me over so we were cuddling in spoon position. He began kissing my neck and nibbling my ear while holding me tight within his big strong arms. I was melting.

Then the familiar feeling came of his fully engorged cock poking at my hole.

“Mmmm let me in” he whispered into my ear. “No you are too big” I half heartily teased with a grin, as I clenched my hole tight. “I know you want it” he whispered back.

He reached behind to spread one of my asscheeks, and with a small thrust, my rectum once again gave way to his huge penis.

“Mmmm there we go” he said, as I whimpered softly.

Lying in the spoon position, Lars slowly fucked me with deep slowly thrusts - his one hand wrapped around to hold me tight, while the other stroked my very erect penis.

Lying sideways I couldn’t focus on the stars this time, so instead I concentrated on how good his body felt against mine, the sensual penetration, and the feeling of my cock and prostate being milked in unison.

Suddenly everything clicked together and I felt an enormous rush run through my body, with ropes of cum shooting uncontrollably as his huge cock kept hammering my ass, ending with a massive head rush which quickly led to a complete blackout.

When I came two I was still lying sideways on the boat, the load I’d shot visible beside me. Lars had his shirt and underwear on, and was pulling up his shorts.

“You looked so peaceful I didn’t want to disturb you” he said.

“What happened?” I asked. “Maybe a bit too much weed, maybe a bit too intense an orgasm… maybe a bit of both?” he said.

I reached down and felt my very fucked and wet hole. Lars through me my underwear and shirt with a smirk. “Let’s get you home, cutie” he said with a grin.

I got dressed, he pulled up the anchor, and before flicking the ignition, he flashed a smile and gave me a quick peck on the lips. We puttered back to the dock at my hotel with his hand gripping my inner thigh, just as before.

As we pulled up to the dock I stood up and started to comment on what a great time I’d had before Lars cut me off - “you English talk too much - just remember and enjoy” he said with a grin.

He then helped me onto the dock, squeezed my hand, and flashed one last smile before pulling away.

I looked at my phone and was shocked to see we had been out for almost three hours! When I got back to my room I thought of having a shower, but then decided the better of it….

I had a long time friend, Andy, and we grew up across the street from each other. I can’t talk about anything before 18 years or is it 21 years old here? Let’s just say in some situations such as public swimming pool changing rooms, or similar settings we would see each other naked.

I have a really big cock. I know it. It sometimes makes me feel awkward in public settings to be naked if I am around friends. But, Andy never seemed to pay attention even though he looked half my size soft. So, I was never uncomfortable about it with him. Over time, especially if I was in settings where I didn’t know other people, like the shower room at a KOA campground, I would sometimes enjoy others staring or seeing the envy or admiration with their looks. I even did that purposefully on some occasions so I could get laid by a girl that might be there where I knew she would hear about it or catch a glimpse. Or, one time in college at Spring Break I peed where I knew a couple girls we were with could see and I even made sure to have a semi so they would see I have a horse cock. Of course I was fairly drunk when doing that but later I ended up fucking two of those girls and I knew their curiosity was about my cock and what it would feel like to them. So, in no way am I ashamed of having a big cock and I am proud of it. But, again having male friends comment or things of that nature was never something I would have felt comfortable about.

Andy and I were in college at different schools but would stay in touch. He then dropped out of his school as he realized the major he was pursuing wasn’t realistic. So, he came to visit and I had a small one bedroom apartment in a house I rented on campus. I never ever expected that there would be any issue about being in the same room or sleeping one of us in bed and one on the couch. Plus, we were both two straight guys and our conversations would frequently be about women.

I was in class during the day but we went out at night to try and hook up with women. The second night he was staying it was Friday evening and we were striking out so headed back to the room. I went to take a shower which was in the house in another room and you would have to wear a robe (house rules) when going to/from the shower. I came back in and Andy was sitting on the couch as I took off my robe and started searching for underwear. Suddenly, Andy commented, “You really have a huge cock don’t you?” “How much bigger do you get erect?” At first I was stunned by Andy’s comments especially as they were said in such a matter of fact way. I replied kind of snarky, “I have never measured it (which wasn’t true as of course as I had measured it several times and topped out at 9”). “You should” he said. Why, I replied. “Well, it’s impressive and I am glad you never fucked Wendy (who was a girl Andy dated and I liked) or she might have been disappointed in me, he laughed. “Size is not that important,” I said. Andy laughed again and said, “Yeah you can say that but give me a break” “Look at mine compared to yours” and suddenly Andy pulled down his pants and underwear in one motion and started jacking his cock. He grew erect very quickly and he had a respectable length maybe 6-7” but thin around. I was startled by all of this and it happened so quickly. I know we both had a few drinks but still it was surprising. I had to admit deep down though there was something of a turn on in all of this too. Without touching myself, I could feel myself getting erect and I didn’t want Andy to see I had a physical reaction to observing him. So, I grabbed my cock and stroked it and I got not fully erect but semi erect where I still hung down but probably close to my 9” length but just not filled completely in circumference. Nevertheless, standing there near one another my cock absolutely dwarfed Andy’s. “Shit man, you are so lucky” Andy exclaimed with admiration. As he said this, he moved closer to where are cocks almost touched. With a sense of pride now as I was aroused and feeling myself getting harder I said, “Yes mine is much bigger.”

Andy and I stood there awkwardly for a little while when my horniness got the better of me, “Do you want to touch it,” I asked. Without saying a word Andy reached out and gripped my cock around the middle just holding it up. “Damn it really feels heavy, I am curious does it feel big and heavy to you?” I replied, “Andy that is hard to say as its mine and so what I feel is what I feel, but yes I feel the weight and sometimes in the morning it can hurt because it can get so big it pushes against and beyond my underwear and can’t contain it. “Wow” Andy said with a look of admiration and curiosity. “Shit” he said, as he held his right next to mine. “I never want to fuck any woman you have been with, she would think this is a joke” as he held his cock in the other hand jacking it. I could see he was turned on. Andy, if you want you can try sucking it. As soon as the words popped out of my mouth I felt like I made a mistake. Here my friend since childhood was possibly just insulted. (to be continued)

Hey guys!

I write sensual, character-driven gay erotic fiction, stories that build tension and explore desire. I just launched two new multi-chapter stories called "My man's best man" (about a bachelor weekend that turns out much steamier than expected), and antoher one called "Track meat" (about a runner whose training camp sparks intense attraction with his mysterious roommate).

Chapter 1 of "My man's best man" is available now here and on Patreon (free for all members, no payment required) : Get more from Roman Vice on Patreon

If you're into slow burn, hot guys, hidden tension, and zero shame, this one's for you. New chapters drop every week.
Let me know what you think, I'm just getting started! And... enjoy!

Roman Vice

Hey everyone, I'm on the hunt for a super hot erotic story that I'm pretty sure I read on LPSG, but it might have been from somewhere else too. The story goes like this: there's a reunion, and the guys get really drunk and things get extremely gay. They're into some serious ass play—rimming, eating out of asses, and end up fucking the main character who's closeted.

Let me know if anyone has read this or knows where I can find it. It's been driving me crazy trying to remember exactly where I read it. Maybe it was right here on LPSG, or maybe it was on another forum. Either way, if you've got any leads or can point me in the right direction, I'd really appreciate it.

Let me know if this rings a bell for anyone else too. Thanks in advance!

A DL, closeted & God-fearing Christian man living in Tennessee, is named “Swat” in his 20s. He’s childless and living in the Deep South of the USA. Swat lives a double life, and you’re (let’s call you “Icy”, since straight men are jealous of your power & women would leave their boyfriends to date you, an out and proud masculine pansexual man - who, somehow, everyone thinks is feminine).

Mr. Icy, you are one of very few people outside the South (and his inner circle) who know what he’s really like. He lives a double life, and cheats on all his girlfriends with LGBT men. He’s the all-American man you’ve wanted in your orbit, to the point where you speak so highly of him that even your homophobic mother (also from the South) asks you, “Is Swat your boyfriend?” You tell her no, but you’re secretly working on a plan to seduce him. 5 years ago, there was a comedy roast you saw where Swat’s friend made fun of Swat because he gave his best friend a handjob.

Anyway, back to your perspective: He’s your crush, and you’ve always wanted him to leave all his girlfriends for you. The dream you envisioned in 2020 when you said you’d get your man, the way Jason Momoa manifested Lisa Bonet (look how that turned out!).
So, now you know who you want…. But, how will you seduce Swat?

He’s 6’4”, a Leo (you’re a Virgo with one Leo Rising in your chart, so you’re sensitive but turn that lion side on and off when you need to…. Maybe show that side to Swat to impress him?), and he’s the man that women want to be with, and men idolize because they want his rugged, old school masculinity, taking after the Southerners he was raised with.

You’re just a “city slicker” from New Jersey (but was raised down South for 7 summers in Florida and Georgia, so your accent goes from New Jersey to country in 5 seconds when you talk too fast! Most people don’t notice “your country accent” except your family). But…. This is the test of a lifetime. This is what you’ve always wanted: one of your role models and heroes you idolize is closeted. How will you manifest him on one knee, proposing to you? Come up with a plan.

3 questions you write down, are:

1. You know he’s a cheater. If he asked you to be his husband, would you do it?

2. What advice do you have for the men he cheats with?

3. What advice do you have for Swat himself?

The part you didn’t ask was, “If his girlfriend doesn’t forgive you for alerting her of Swat’s infidelity toward her….. How will you save your reputation? You moved from Jersey to Tennessee, with your long-term boyfriend (who also moved from Kentucky to Jersey to marry you)…. How would you save your soul after Swat tried to sacrifice you?”
Remember that rap song you heard all those years ago, from your idol Iggy Azalea? Remember when you went through the abuse at home, and nobody validated you? And you turned on your CD player in 2015 and heard Iggy talk about your personality & your integrity and your values (that your hometown shits on and acts like you’re doing everything they did to destroy you all those years ago), like she wrote the album for men like you?

Her lyrics read like a sermon to a Christian choir: “I’d never sell my soul / For any number on a check / You can do it too, young man / Impossible is nothing…….”

Now, will you sell your soul to Swat?
Or take your power back & avoid the humiliation ritual of Tennessee calling you a heathen and a Northern hussy?
Only YOU can decide!

This is based on the true story about how I met Daniel 10 odd years ago


Everyone is 18+ and everything is fully consensual.

⸻

It started with his Grindr profile.
Irish, curious.
That was all it said.

I tapped. He tapped back.

We chatted about stupid things — food, movies, the way the weather makes you want to stay in someone’s arms. He asked if I was actually Asian. I asked if he was actually curious.

He said he was just tired of girls who couldn’t take his cock.

And then he sent a picture.

Veins. Length. Thickness. Pale skin. Uncut. Heavy.

He told me no one had ever managed to deepthroat it.
He told me he’d never cum from a blowjob.
Not once.

I said, “Challenge accepted.”

We met the next day.
Café near the station. Outdoor table. He was tall, so tall, and had to duck to sit under the umbrella.

Freckles, red curls, that clean Irish jawline. Bright blue eyes that blinked a lot when he was nervous.

He smiled as he sat down. Big smile. Honest. I don’t think he had done this before, but wasn’t scared of it either.

I asked if he wanted food. He said he’d already eaten but would watch me. So I ate. And he watched.

Then we walked. Quiet at first. His arm brushed mine a few times. I didn’t move away.

He asked what it felt like, kissing a guy. I asked what he thought it felt like. He smiled again and said, “Probably better.”

Then we went to the cinema. He let me choose the film. He sat two fingers away from me the whole time. Didn’t touch me, but his knee bounced every few minutes.

I could feel the heat off him.

We didn’t speak when the movie ended. Just walked in silence to the station. I told him it was okay if nothing happened, no pressure. He nodded, eyes low.

We said goodbye.

I turned. Started walking.

Five minutes later, my phone rang.

It was him.

“Hey…”
His voice was softer now.
“I think I want to kiss you.”
A pause.
“…Do you wanna come over?”

-

His place was small, clean, warm. Fresh laundry smell and aftershave still in the air.

He didn’t kiss me at the door. Just took my bag, nodded for me to follow, and led me upstairs.

Two steps from the top, he stopped.

Then he turned around and picked me up.

Lifted me off the ground with both arms. Carried me the rest of the way like I weighed nothing. His chest against mine. His breath fast in my ear. My hands found his shoulders, and I held on.

His door opened behind me. Bedroom. Low light.

He sat on the bed with me in his lap.

His cock pressed between my thighs.

It was already getting hard.

We kissed.

God, we kissed.

Mouths soft at first, then deeper, then desperate. His hands unsure, touching my waist, then pulling back, then reaching again. His lips were warm, slightly chapped. His tongue slow, learning.

I straddled him. His cock lay heavy between my cheeks, half-hard but thick enough to make my breath catch.

I leaned back and peeled my shirt off.

He stared.

Not at my chest. At my mouth. I think he was wondering what it could do.

I reached down, pressed my palm to his crotch.

His breath stuttered but he didn’t stop me.

Still, something in his body held tension. Not hesitation — more like memory.

I kissed his neck. His jaw. Bit softly at the place below his ear that made his breath catch again.

“You okay?” I whispered.

He nodded, too fast.

I ran my hand down his chest.

“Bad experience?”

He didn’t answer, but his eyes did.

So I slowed everything down.

I slipped off his lap and kissed down his chest.

Let my tongue drag over the slope of his abs, one freckle at a time.

He lay back on the bed and watched me, eyes wide, muscles tight. His hands clenched the blanket beside him, like he didn’t know what to expect, like he didn’t want to flinch again.

I nuzzled the waistband of his shorts. Warm cotton. Damp from where his cock had started to stir.

I kissed him through the fabric.
Slowly.
Patiently.
Over and over until I felt him soften and thicken again, gently this time.

Then I pulled his shorts down.

His cock flopped free.
Thick. Uncut. Pale shaft flushed pink at the head. Blue veins standing out along the sides. Heavy against his thigh, not fully hard yet.

I didn’t rush.
I held it in my hand. Felt the heat. Kissed the base. Pressed my nose into the red hair and breathed him in.

He twitched.

I circled my tongue around the crown, teasing his foreskin back, letting my spit gather. No suction. Just warmth. Wetness. Attention.

His breath got louder.

I licked the underside, from base to tip, slow and steady.

Each time he twitched, I paused and kissed the head again, letting him know I wasn’t going anywhere.

He started to leak. Clear, thick precum. I licked it up without breaking eye contact.

That was when something changed.

His chest rose higher. His fingers let go of the sheets. His cock thickened more fully in my hand.

I wrapped my lips around the head and just stayed there.

No movement. Just heat and tongue.

A sound left his throat. Halfway between a groan and a whimper.

That was the first one.

I began to suck, slow and soft, just the tip.

My hand cupped his balls, warm and smooth. I kissed each one in turn, then licked behind them, down to where his skin grew softer. He gasped and twitched again.

“Shit…”

His thighs spread wider.

I took more of him into my mouth. Sucked deeper. Swallowed him slowly until his cock pressed against the back of my throat. I stayed there. Let him feel it.

His moan was louder this time.

Then again when I pulled back and licked the head with my tongue flattened. Again when I hollowed my cheeks and took him deeper.

His hips bucked. His voice cracked.

“Fuck… Zayn… fuck, that’s…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

Just moaned again. Louder now. His legs shook.

He was fully hard in my throat.

And I hadn’t even stroked him.

I worked him slowly. One hand on his hip, the other stroking his perineum in circles while I bobbed my head, spit gathering at the corners of my mouth, his cock sliding in and out, wet and slick.

He was leaking constantly now. Precum dripping from his slit, coating my tongue.

I didn’t stop.

He kept moaning, kept swearing with his Irish accent , kept looking down at me with a kind of disbelief. His stomach tensed. His hands reached toward my head but hovered, unsure. Then they settled. Just held me there, gentle.

“Fuck… no one’s ever…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

But his body did.

His hips rose, just slightly, not to thrust, but to offer.

His hand settled on the back of my head.

Not pushing. Just there.

His eyes found mine. Then closed.

That was the moment he gave in.

The tension that had lived under his skin since I met him — gone.

His thighs spread wider. His stomach lifted with every breath. His cock throbbed in my mouth, not just hard now, but alive.

He was ready.

And I wanted to ruin him. Proper!

I pulled back until just the tip sat on my tongue.

Tasted him. Savored it. The precum, the warmth, the smooth weight of his cock resting where I could feel every throb.

Then I lowered again.
Slow. Deep.
Let my lips seal around the base.
Held him there.

His moan broke open. One long, low sound that made my own cock twitch.

I started to work him properly.

Tongue first. Flattened, swirling, teasing every ridge. I kissed up the underside of his shaft again and again before swallowing him deep, letting the spit collect and drip.

Then I’d pull off. Let the air hit him. Blow cool breath across the wetness and watch his stomach jump.

He started leaking constantly.

Each drop tasted sweeter than the last. Thick, warm, syrupy. I swallowed it all.

I took my time.

After maybe ten minutes, I paused.

Let him breathe. Rest. Let my jaw unlock for a second.

He looked down at me, dazed and sweaty. Eyes glazed but wide.

“That thing you just did… under the head, with your tongue—fuck…”

I smiled, breathless. “Yeah?”

“I’ve never… felt that before. It goes all the way into my chest. It’s unreal like!”

I laughed softly, licked a drop from his slit, and kissed his hip. “Good.”

Then I started again. Slower this time. Let him feel every swirl, every inch.

He groaned right away, hips twitching. Hands flexing at his sides.

Another break. Shorter. This time, he was the one who spoke first.

“You can really take all of it?”

I nodded, lips slick, breath shallow.

He sat up slightly, propped on his elbows. His abs flexed, damp with sweat. His chest rose and fell faster now.

“I thought I was too big for that. You’re fuckin’ incredible .”

Then he reached out and brushed my hair back behind my ear. His touch was soft. Curious. He traced my cheek with the back of his fingers, then dropped his hand to my chest and pinched one nipple, slow and deliberate.

I gasped.

He smiled. “You look so fucking hot like this.”

I blushed — couldn’t help it — then dropped my mouth right back onto his cock.

All of it. One motion.

His mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back. He moaned so loud it almost echoed off the walls.

I kept going.

Changed angles. Rolled his balls in my mouth. Dipped lower to lick behind them. Massaged his perineum in slow, rhythmic circles until his hips rolled on their own.

He couldn’t stop moaning now.

Every time I swallowed him whole, he lost control. His voice cracked. His thighs tensed. His fingers trembled against the sheets.

I stayed in rhythm. Gentle but relentless. Let him live there — in the edge. In the pleasure. In the part of himself no one had ever reached before.

At one point he gasped, “I don’t know how I’m still holding it…”

And I just smiled with his cock in my throat and let my tongue tell him to keep going.

Twenty minutes passed. Then more.

His cock never flagged. His moans grew more desperate. His hands fisted the pillow. His body gleamed with sweat.

He was shaking.

Then his voice changed.

It wasn’t words anymore. Just noise. Soft pleading. Whimpers.

“Zayn… fuck… I’m gonna…”

I didn’t stop.

I sped up. Mouth tighter, deeper, wetter. My spit coated everything, glistening down to his base. My jaw ached. My throat burned.

But I didn’t stop.

His cock swelled one last time.

And then he broke.

He came hard.

The first spurt filled my throat.

Then another. And another.

Warm. Sweet. Endless.

It poured out of him. Thick and fast. So much I had to swallow again, and again, and again just to keep up.

His entire body seized — back arched, thighs locked, fists gripping the pillow so tight his knuckles turned white. His moans broke into cries, then silence, then shudders.

I stayed down until he twitched.

Then one final lick up his shaft before I let him go.

His cock dropped against his stomach. Still slick. Still twitching.

His eyes were glassy. His lips parted. His chest rose and fell like he’d run miles.

He didn’t speak for a long time.

Then finally:

“I didn’t think that was possible.”

I kissed the inside of his thigh and said, “You just needed someone who actually appreciates your cock.”

Let me know you want to hear what happened next?

Hey everyone!

A few years ago, I published the first two chapters of this story on Nifty, but then I got stuck and didn’t continue. Randomly last week, inspiration struck, and I ended up writing two new chapters — with at least one more planned and some ideas beyond that.

I’ve been reading some great stories on here lately and So I thought I’d share mine and see what you all think. If there’s interest, I’ll keep posting the new chapters!

Thanks for reading — feedback always welcome!


Perfect Jimmy

I don't know why I was nervous. I mean, I've flown before- just because this was an international flight and I'm alone doesn't mean it has to be scary. Yeah. I'm a grown man, a tough one, I don't get nervous often but something about this trip feels different.

My name is Gene, I'm 26, 5"10, and 210 lb, pretty solidly built- my friends call me the Indian Gronk- but I'm not sure if that is because of my build or because I like to party.

Yeah, I'm what they call a fuck-boy. I kept my jet black hair cut precise (3 inches long on top, slicked high and to the side, and bald fade), I love my big flashy gold chain and sneaker collection. I know I'm every inch the stereotype of a Gen-Z manwhore, but what can I say- it got me laid. The girls say it's the dark puppy dog eyes and the flirty smile but I know they love my cockiness and being able to say I picked them for the night. Maybe you think I'm a jerk- but the numbers speak for themselves.

As soon as they start boarding priority people I sneak off to a bathroom stall to take a few last tokes off my vape before the long flight. I had gotten to the airport way too early and I was already exhausted.

Fuck. There were like 200 people coming to the wedding in Cancun. Everyone I knew was on a flight 2 hours later. How was there not one person I knew on this flight? I scanned the crowd lined up for group A.

That's when I spotted him-Jimmy. Perfect Jimmy as I called him in my head. I mean, I kind of hate the dude...but only cause everyone else loves him. I'm kind of a black sheep in our Indian immigrant community, I didn't finish college, party too much, and listen to my parents too little, but Jimmy is the other Indian guy stereotype who finished pharmacy school at the top of his class, always well dressed, polite to the aunties and uncles, always singing and dancing for the parties. I mean he was a kind of a goody-two-shoes but not even in a dorky way. He was just NICE and has his shit together.

He's a little taller than me- 6"1, he's Indian too but his skin is like dark chocolate and it always glows. This guy probably drinks 64 ounces of water and moisturizes twice a day. He's leaner than me but the dude is still kind of jacked- broad shoulders, lean body tapered into a v-shape. Even his square jaw looked like it had been carved out of stone. He was wearing all black, the sleeves of his t-shirt showing off his biceps and his lounge pants hugging his thighs. Fuck. I knew he was coming but I didn't expect to see him on my flight. He was looking straight ahead bopping his head to whatever was in his AirPods. Of course, perfect Jimmy had his passport and boarding pass ready and was focused on keeping the line moving.

Wait... fuck where's my passport?! Oh ok, it's in my backpack. I got it out. Crisis over. I look over at Jimmy in line- trying to be subtle but catch his eye. I mean we're friendly- he probably thinks I'm a douche, but he's one of my older brother's best friends. He'll make sure I make it through Customs and stuff.

I lift my hand to kind of wave but he doesn't look over and I feel like a lame-ass. I'm standing off to the side of the gate agent checking people in. Finally, when he's next in line- he sees me. I catch his eyes and then he does it. This is why I think of him as Perfect Jimmy. The mother fucker has a smile like a goddamned movie star. His bright white even teeth, full lips, and his smile lights up his whole face- fuck it lights up the whole room. I can't stand how the smile reaches all the way to his eyes- he's like genuinely happy to see me. This guy! I give a lame wave again and the old cool-guy-head-nod back.

He waves and moves on in the line. A few minutes later I'm on the plane too- he's seated in the middle of the plane in a window seat.

"Hey man- wait for me when we land! I don't know what to do" I say when he catches my eye again as I walk up the aisle. He shakes his head no and points to the seat next to him. Fuck he wants me to sit next to him- damn, the middle seat! I walk over with a smile plastered on my face.

"Hey G! I saved a seat for you- I told people it was for my little brother" he beamed mischievously. This guy is peak golden retriever energy.

"Oh, thanks, man!"

He offered the window seat, but I declined and I squeezed myself into the middle seat next to him as a large Hispanic woman came in behind me for the aisle. I'm not trying to be an ass but she was a large lady- and I'm a decent-sized guy so it was a little tight in the middle seat. Jimmy lifted the armrest between us so I could spread my thick legs apart. He didn't seem to mind that I man-spread a little bit and my thighs were touching his. Oh well- maybe I could just take a nap- it's only a 2.5-hour flight.

Well, Jimmy had other plans- the dude was revved up! He was a groomsman at the wedding and was so excited. We ended up talking the whole way. And here's the thing- as much as I like to clown him internally- he's a genuinely nice guy. Turns out he had been in one of those fancy lounges before the flight which is why I hadn't seen him while waiting.

He's a good listener and had some funny stories. And while his partying stories didn't rival mine- maybe he wasn't as goodygoody as I thought. He made some jabs about showing me how to party this weekend- and I made some back about how he was turning 30 in a couple of months and how his party days were long behind him.

"Challenge accepted," he said confidently cocking one of his eyebrows up. Ok, maybe he is a dork.

As we got off the plane- I don't know what happened to me. I became a complete and utter twat. We got off the jetway and my backpack was unzipped and all my shit spilled everywhere. I began sweating profusely and Jimmy just laughed as he helped me. We get to the security place- and I've filled out the forms incorrectly so I have to get back in line. Jimmy waits patiently. I get out and ask Jimmy where baggage claim is-- "you checked a bag? For a weekend trip?" yeah fucked up again. He makes a few calls while I wait forever for my bag then he walks over to me. Smiles as he looks at me- "uh... G, this is the wrong carousel- we didn't come from Salt Lake City or on this airline" he directs me to the right carousel where my bag is waiting circling on the belt. " Fuck I'm a total spaz today." He just chuckled. Why the fuck is he so nice?

He guided us through the airport to the shuttle arranged by the resort. He spoke Spanish pretty fluently because - of course, he did. The little Spanish I had picked up was work at the hospital or buying drugs- both were pretty useless in this situation.

We climbed in the back of the crowded shuttle van to the hotel and once again I was pushed up close to Jimmy. How did he still smell like cologne? I hadn't stopped sweating since we landed, but he seemed like he was perfectly comfortable. Fuckin' Perfect Jimmy.

We talked some more on the half-hour trip to the hotel. He told me that he and his GF of two years had started planning a wedding even though he hadn't proposed officially yet. I wonder what was taking Perfect Jimmy so long to pop the question.

As we got out of the van and waited for the bellhop to unload our bags, Jimmy put his arm around my shoulders. "G, I'm so glad we got to hang out it's been a long time since we did. You're so fun bro- I can't wait to hang out this weekend and show you that we old guys' can still party.

"For sure Jimmy- hey man, honestly thank you, I would have been a hot mess at the airport if it wasn't for you"

"Would have been?!" He laughed loudly. "Glad to help but you got it, man- you never give yourself enough credit"

I don't know why but it made me feel good when Jimmy complimented me.

We checked into our rooms- Jimmy was sharing w a bunch of friends and I was in a big adjoining suite with my best friend and his girl. So we went our separate ways. "See you at the welcome party tonight," he called out as the golf cart drove him away.

Since I had a couple of hours before my other friends showed up and before the party so I grabbed a beer from the lobby bar and headed over to my room for a quick shower.

As the bellhop showed me in I noticed a problem- "uh this isn't an adjoining room?" I asked but quickly realized the bellhop's English wasn't any better than my Spanish. So I asked him to wait and I called the lobby.

They explained they didn't have any adjoining rooms available, but my friends would be next door and still connected through the pool in the back of the rooms. Basically, we had a semi-private villa and I was being charged the same rate as we had agreed for the adjoining suite.

Cool- private room. Maybe I could hook up this weekend without Jia finding out. We weren't exactly exclusive- but my friends wouldn't approve.

I opened the minibar, poured myself a shot of tequila, chase it with the rest of my beer, and proceeded to the shower with a shower beer. All-inclusive was going to be nice.

I looked at myself in the mirror as I waited for the shower to warm up. My golden caramel skin was clear, shoulders looked big, bicep check for the ladies- nice. My chest looks good- if I focused at the gym for 2 weeks my six pack would be back but it's still flat and hard muscled. I get no complaints about the body. I probably should have shaved my chest to show off the gains this weekend in the pool, but I kinda liked being hairy. I grew a big patch of hair on the top of my chest but it kind of disappeared down the center till a happy trail that I trim to the same length as my pubes. Still a full and manly bush- just not wild enough to get caught in Jia's teeth when she went down on me.

Fuck I wish she had come with me. Well not really- we weren't serious enough for a weekend trip but damn it would have been good to get this thing in her mouth. I looked down at my cock that was getting chubbed up by thinking about her blowing me.

I hopped in the shower and decided to christen the room w my cum. I reached down and grabbed my thickening uncut cock. It was just shy of 7 inches but it was thick in a way that made a girl's jaws hurt after sucking on it for a while.

I wonder if good two-shoes Jimmy got blow-jobs from his girl. Maybe she wouldn't put out and that's why he hasn't proposed. Poor guy- everyone deserves a blowjob sometimes. She was hot though. I wouldn't mind her blowing me. I pictured her on her knees in the shower with me. Opening her mouth wide enough to take me.

Then for some reason, I pictured Jimmy watching her. Yeah, let's cuck him- show him how she needs a real man to fuck her throat. He's in awe of how thick I am and how wide her mouth gets. He's on his knees too watching close as she swallows me. He's so close to my cock. I don't know why but my imagination goes a little haywire and I'm pulling my cock out of her mouth and stuffing it in his.

He's as surprised in the daydream as I am. But it's Jimmy- he's always eager to please. He goes down deeper than she did. I grab the back of his head and start fucking his throat as he gobbles as much of my wide dick as he can. I feel the back of his throat and his hands on my balls. FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK I shoot a giant load all over the shower wall imagining pumping into his pretty mouth. At least 8 shots of cum leave me with weak knees. What the fuck was that?!

This really is a true story. So, today, I went to the gym. There is is this very muscular, handsome and stocky bodybuilder trainer that I see everyday. Latino and hot but I never really thought a lot of erotic thoughts about him. But for some reason, he was training another guy and I could have sworn I saw his cock throb a few times in his shorts. He was wearing black shorts so it was difficult to tell, really. But, you know, it made me curious. A little later, his trainee was doing a leg machine. This particular machine had moving parts and, I swear, this muscular trainer was pushing his groin up against one of the moving joints. The guy is working his legs up and down, and the bodybuilder trainer isn’t pulling away but rather leaning into the machine as it, basically was rubbing his groin. I had to be discreet and he didn’t seem to notice me. But as I methodically watched him, I became convinced he was getting off on training this guy. Wish I could say more but if I sign up for a trainer, he’s the one.

This is a story all about how my life got flipped , turned... oh, wait I don't want to get slapped on stage!

It's a first person series of stories following the journey of young man, indoctrinated into small town narrow mindedness, yet lusts for cock.

Part 1: A taste

I came from a backwater closed minded little town in the arsend of nowhere. I had always liked guys and girls, although being from a town like that my denial ran strong! However often when I was “alone and using my imagination”… (you know what I mean!), I’d think about a strong guy pushing his cock into my mouth and making me service his needs or bending me over and entering my virgin rosebud….

Anyway – at the age of 18 I left home to go to university in Manchester, a great place, and unknown to me at the time, due to my small-town ignorance, had a thriving gay scene.

In my first week lectures were very straight forward – mostly doing admin stuff, there was a ton of partying every night to really make sure we burned our student loans… On the fourth day, I was struggling with a hangover, and having just heard of “the hair if the dog”, decided to give it a go. I walked to a nearby pub at lunchtime, ordered a pint and sat at the bar.

As I was trying to overcome the hungover repulsion to alcohol, a guy walks in – looking immaculate, well-groomed with a great body and tight leather trousers – which left very little to the imagination. I felt like my eyes bulged out of my head as I watched him walk in. He came to the bar beside me and ordered a drink. He was clearly a regular here by the familiar and flirtatious way he spoke to the barman.

“This guy must be gay,” I thought to myself – a fairly reasonable conclusion given the trousers and the flirting with the barman. This being the 90’s, and me being from a small backwards town I really didn’t know what to do. He was “one of them” one of the million and one names called out in my school playground, but ultimately a man loving gay. As much as I was freaked out by this, I could also feel the arousal in me stirring…. This guy had felt stubble rubbing against his face as he kissed a guy, had felt smooth cock passing through his lips and into his mouth… It was overwhelming…. Terrifyingly hot!

He turned to me and started a conversation, “Gorgeous little bar isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I managed in a monosyllabic croak, my throat dry with excitement and fear. “it’s er got a great location,” I added, trying make my one-word answer seem less ignorant.



“It certainly is a great location, plenty of eye candy,” he replied with a wink. This little flirtation triggered all the things, the ingrained homophobia and the sheer arousal waging war inside me. My rapidly hardening cock, and my hunger for his….

“So where you from?” He asked casually, my accent and complete greenness having made it abundantly clear I wasn’t local….



“Scotland – this tiny, ‘not even on the map’ town near inverness,” I replied.

“Bet the gay scene is booming there,” he chuckled sarcastically.

“Oh, I’m not gay,” I said hastily. My eyes betraying me, sliding across that bulge. My own cock straining against my jeans.



“Well that’s a tragedy,” he said, with another flirty wink. “So you a student then?”



“yeah,” I answered, “Engineering, just starting my first year. How about yourself?”



“I run a bar around the corner, So I come in here for a little quiet time, where nobody can badger me over every little issue.” He answered, “You know if you’re a broke student, we’re taking on bar staff for the new term, interviews are tomorrow – I can add you to the list if you’d like.”



“Yes please,” I said, eagerly. Getting a job was on my list of things to do, so potentially this could be Ideal. My naivety stopping me from even considering the weirdness of the boss trying to get in my pants, or my half-buried desire for him to get in my pants”

He said his name was Gary he was 44 over more than twice my age which just made me more excited. He told me more about the job and gave me his number. I stood there putting it into my Nokia brick, while doing my best to keep my eyes off of that beautiful bulge, alongside trying to keep my raging hardon concealed.….. I suspect he had noticed it. I excused myself and went to the toilet.

As I was stood at the urinal, hoping my cock would deflate enough so that I could pee, the door opened, it was Gary. I quickly shook myself off – pretending I had finished so I could escape without him seeing my raging boner, which had just gotten harder as he came in. “hey cutie” he said in a flirty manner.

“Hi. Fancy seeing you here,” I replied in an over the top comedy voice. Trying, and failing, to flirt back.

He humoured me with a little laugh and kept walking towards the urinal, as I went to wash my hands. He appeared behind me in the mirror. “So, have you ever been with a man?”

“I er… what? No!” I replied, caught completely off guard. The small town mentality fighting it’s way to the surface. My cheeks flushing.

‘”oooh, a virgin?” he asked maintaining the flirty tone. “I think you would like to,” he said moving in behind me and putting his hands around my waste.

I froze in sheer panic, I could feel his heat behind me, those strong hands gently holding my midriff. I could feel his warm breath on my neck as he moved in to kiss it. His lips felt so wrong… so amazing. I was really struggling with the war between my small town upbring and my desires….

“This dirty homo needed to get his hands off me. He needed to put me on my knees and use my mouth like a filthy slut. The situation was wrong and unnatural, I wanted to feel his cock. I’m not batty boy, please bend me over and sink yourself deep in my virgin rosebud,” my internal monologue continued arguing with itself.

His hardening bulge pushed against me and the internal battle ended instantly. All the taboo and prohibition in my mind was blown away by that glorious member. I tried grinding my ass against him, letting him know that I wanted him. The nerves and excitement made it a fairly clumsy manoeuvre, but he understood. He twisted my hips so I turned to face him and kissed me passionately, his tongue pushing into my mouth and caressing mine.

Fireworks exploded all around me, at this point I’d have done anything he wanted. His hands roamed my body, across my chest, down my side and onto my ass. He pulled me into a cubicle, the kissing and groping continued. I wanted, no I needed his cock, needed to feel it filling my mouth and battering my throat. Desperate to feel cum filling my mouth or covering my face. And I wanted to feel him penetrating my little asshole, stretching me for his pleasure, have him filling my hole. I wanted to feel his rock hard manhood deep inside pumping me full of jizz, I wanted everything. But most of all I wanted to be his little whore. He Kissed my neck, his stubble grazing me. As he continued grinding his cock against me, I thought I might just explode. The precum leaking all over my underwear.



“Oh my god I want you to fuck me,” I said, completely lost in the moment – no thought about the practicality of my request. No consideration of my virgin ass and no lube, if I could even take his chunky cock if there was lube, If the stranger I’d know for all of half an hour would be gentle or just smash it in, and keep going if I was in agony, If someone walked into the bathroom and caught us…

“Not here,” he said – “not for your first time” he started undoing my trousers, but I dropped to my knees. I wanted to feel his smooth cock in my mouth and taste his precum I rubbed my hand over his bulge, barely able to catch my breath, and start trying to remove his trousers. The tight leather, my inexperience and sheer excitement made this impossible. ‘let me’ he whispered as I looked up at his blue whirlpool eyes, on my knees like his little sex toy. He stretched his torso up to undo the clasp, “there you go,” he said removing his hands. I pulled them down slowly, revealing my first ever cock…. It was beautiful. His uncut head pushing through his foreskin, a lovely thick 7 inches, with a large vein down the side and a little upward curve along the shaft. I wrapped my fingers around it – it felt amazing - thick and rock hard, I started to pump it gently,. It felt alien to have another man’s cock in my hand, and in a different place than my own…. It felt amazing.

At this point reality poked it’s ugly little head in…. “Am I about to suck off a guy? Am I about to suck off a guy twice my age? Am I about to suck off a guy twice my age in a public toilet?” I caught a whiff of his musk, mixed with after shave, it made my cock twitch I my pants, and a bead of precum appeared on the tip of his cock. I tentatively put my tongue to his tip and tasted his juice…. “yes, yes I am, I’m a cock loving little whore and I love it,” I thought and took him eagerly into my throat.

A little too eagerly - given my lack of experience this wasn’t the smartest move. I instantly hit my gag reflex and started gagging and choking on his magnificent meat. “Take it easy.” he chuckled, looking down at me with this intoxicating blue eyes. I returned to stroking his cock, as I explored his balls with my lips, kissing and nibbling my way along his shaft. I took him in my mouth again – this time slowly, savouring the feeling of his swollen head on my tongue, the salty taste and smooth texture of his precum. He groaned with pleasure which turned me on even more. I started to develop a rhythm, his groans becoming more regular making my head bob more enthusiastically. Once again, he touched my gag reflex – I gagged and choked but kept pumping his manhood with my mouth.

His groans were becoming more intense, and he was pushing his cock in time with my head, as it started twitching in my mouth. I was so turned on that hadn’t really considered what comes next. “AAAhhhhh,” he moaned pushing his cock further and catching my gag reflex again. I suddenly felt liquid in my mouth – and panicked. I was so surprised that I couldn’t swallow at first. Choking, the cum filling my mouth and his member still thrusting into my mouth. His jizz spilled out, down my chin and onto my shirt. I regained control of myself and started swallowing his warm load down my neck. I could feel him starting to soften as he withdrew from my mouth. I teased out the last drop of cum, took it on my finger and rubbed it around my lips – I looked up into those eyes, cum all over my chin and said ‘thank you’.

‘No, thank you’ he responded. ‘I’d like to return the favour’ he added.

I was there looking up at him on my knees in a public bathroom, face and shirt covered with cum, like a filthy slut. A dirty little bum-boy fucktoy, to be used and dismissed… and I loved it. “It’s okay” I replied, “I loved that, kinda’ liked being your bitch too” I blurted out. He looked at me with a grin his face and started pulling up his trousers. “Oh geez, I’m late for my lecture,” I said hurrying over to the sink and cleaning my face, doing what I could for my shirt too.

“Sorry, gotta run” I said, taking the time to kiss him one last time.

“Interview’s 10am tomorrow” he added

“Surely that got me the job” I joked, bashfully.

“See you there handsome” he added as I headed out the door.

“That was amazing, thank you for my first cock, and mouthful, see you” I blushed.

I went to the bar and grabbed my jacket, “see you again,” the barman said, with a knowing smile and a wink. I blushed, completely mortified - I’d just blown a guy in his pub, and he clearly knew….

I headed out past the rainbow flags in the window (still blissfully unaware what they meant) and headed to the university. I skuttled into my lecture, trying not to disrupt with my lateness, although a part of me wanted to shout , “sorry I’m late, I was distracted by the gorgeous cack pounding my throat!”.

I sat down with some people I’d ben speaking to previously. Sitting there with all the “good people”, listening intently to the lecturer, the wet patch still on my shirt, underwear still covered I precum. The taste of him lingering in my mouth and the pain from my lips where they were rubbing against my teeth, keeping them off his cock. Sat there with all the normal people doing their normal life activities. Completely unaware that this filthy little bent whore had just satisfied a guy twice his age…. And was desperate for more….

Growing up one of my closest friends was always famous for his height. As an adult he ended up being 6’5.” I was always intrigued by his height and always thought it must mean he had a really big dick. As much time as we spent together, I only ever caught brief glimpses of it here and there. He wasn’t shy at all about it, it just didn’t happen too often that I would see what I wanted.

At any rate, we were coming out of high school just as AOL and Messenger were a thing. As we all know, one of the things the internet did was take away inhibitions. In a lot of ways, it became technological alcohol.

Tom and I never talked too much about sex. It just didn’t come up when we were together. However, one day when we were chatting on AOL, out of nowhere, he typed, “I want you to fuck me.”

I was floored! I thought for sure he either sent the IM to the wrong person (that used to be a thing!), or maybe a friend of his was there and had commandeered his computer while he went to the bathroom or something. When I questioned him on it, he insisted. Before continuing, I asked him to type me something that only he and I would know. Without any delay, he typed something that was our inside joke and that was only between us. I knew it was him who had typed that.

I asked him where this was coming from and what he meant. He typed back something like this, “Man, every time I fuck a girl, she screams because of how big I am. Like, really screams. So, I have this fantasy to get fucked so I know what it feels like when I’m doing that.”

Damn! So, he was telling me flat out that he was huge, and, that he wanted to get fucked…BY ME! I asked him, “Dude, is it really that big?” He replied, “yes, big, and fat.” Before I could ask, he sent me two pictures. One of him hard and another of him having just busted, with his cum all over his hands. I also noticed how big his balls were…huge! He told me, “I’m 7.25, but can get to 7.5 on a really good day.”

I asked him to tell me more about what he wanted. He told me something to the effect of, “yeah, so, I have this fantasy that I am taking it from you missionary style and you keep going until two things happen: you make me cum while you are fucking me and we’re making eye contact; and, you don’t stop fucking me until you cum inside me like I’m the girl.”

I could not believe my eyes. This was all so out of character for him. We didn’t ever talk like this — ever. I told him, “geeze, Tom, it seems like you have given this a lot of thought.” He replied, “I have. I’ve been jerking off to this fantasy for like months now.”

It caught my attention that he was specifically fantasizing about me being the one to do this, like not just having it done to him, but it being me. I asked him about that, and he said, “I didn’t plan it, Mike. You know how fantasies are. They just happen. And that’s what I want…I want this fantasy to happen.”

Now, there was no way I wasn’t going to give him exactly what he wanted. We had been friends since age seven. So, if this is what he wanted to do, I was going to make it happen for him. Really, for us.

I asked him when he had in mind and he told me, “in two weeks when we’re together for the 4th of July weekend.” Damn! He really did have a plan. I told him, “Tom, obviously, I’m going to do this with you, but I’m not sure I’m completely qualified. If you want someone to make you scream, I’m not nearly as big as you are.” He said, “no worries. I’ve never had anything it my ass before, so whatever you have is going to feel huge to me.” Bet!

The next two weeks felt like an eternity. There was so much anticipation. What I really worried about more than anything was if I would satisfy his fantasy. If I were going to do this, I wanted to do it right and be good at it. I was a man on a mission now.

At long last, the holiday weekend arrived. We were driving up to the beach together in my car, and would be staying at my family home. There would be a lot of people there, but the place was plenty big enough, and there were plenty of places to go or be away from others. Normally, Tom would have his own room, but no one would question it if we both slept in the same room. Still, if we were going to engage in the escapades that he had elaborated on, there would need to be an opportunity to be alone. We knew our best shot would be to get up there before anyone else, and so that’s exactly what we did.

The ride, which was less than two hours, felt like an eternity. There was a lot of nervous anticipation and energy in the car. I finally broke the silence and asked, “so, what’s the plan? Like, we get there, go upstairs, and fuck?” Tom laughed and said, “haha, yep!”

Wow. A guy I have been friends with for all these years, and today I was going to take his anal virginity at his request, basically at an appointed time. This was really something else. To boot, he was approaching it all so matter-of-factly.

We finally pulled in, grabbed our duffle bags from the car, and went straight upstairs. The moment we got in my room, Tom began getting undressed. In no time flat, he was naked and laying on my bed. I followed his lead, taking off all my clothes and dropping them on the floor. He tossed me a small jar of Vaseline and told me, “lube me up good, please.” I smiled and said, “yes, Sir. Is there anything else I can do before I defile you?”

He chuckled at me and said, “well, we never discussed how into this you are or aren’t, but if you want to loosen me up a bit, I wouldn’t mind the favor of being rimmed or fingered a little bit first. He drew his long legs up and bent his knees to his chest, so his ass was completely mine and just inches away. He had this like blondish, reddish-brown pubic hair and hair around his asshole, and a light covering on his ass. It looked cool the way the sunlight was shining in the room, glistening off of the shimmering water outside the window.

I crouched down on my knees and buried my face in there, nose right into his hole. I heard him inhale deeply. I went for it, plunging my tongue into his hole. It was the first time I had ever done such a thing. It was overwhelming. So many stimulations of the senses. His smell, how warm it was, the emotional experience realizing what intimate thing we were doing. How soft and silky his hole felt to my tongue. The sound of his breathing. It was a lot all at once.

After a few minutes, I spit on his hole, licked my finger, and pushed it inside. He writhed a little bit, but I pushed it further until it was all the way in, and then I started working his hole a bit. I was surprised at how vocal Tom was. He seemed to really be enjoying it. Every inch of his insides felt so silky soft and smooth. I had no idea what I was expecting, but it was a pleasant surprise.

Finally, he looked at me and said, “I want you to stick it in me now.” I asked, “are you sure?” He said firmly, “yes.”

I pulled out my finger, and instinctively, licked it and sucked it clean. He asked me how it tasted, and I told him, “I love it.” That was true. I loved the way my friend’s asshole tasted, and I wanted him to know it.


I put some Vaseline on my dick, and pressed it up against his hole, and then pushed inside of him. He blurted out, “Jesus, God!” I asked him if he wanted me to stop, and he said, “no, of course not. It feels good. I want you to fuck the cum out of me.”

So, I began fucking him. And, I do mean fucking him. His hole was fucking tight. The harder I pounded him, the harder it seemed he wanted me to do it. Tom has these huge blue eyes — his best feature. He reminded me he wanted us to be making eye contact, and this was going to be easy to do with those big baby blues. I asked him what it was about the eye contact, and he told me it was because he wanted to feel submissive like the girls he fucked. I understood what he meant.

We locked our gazes and I got into a rhythm pounding his tight virgin hole. He was stroking his big, fat cock, and his giant balls were bouncing up and down. I imagined he would cum a lot when he finally busted.

He was making lots of noise. I’m not sure if it was exactly screaming, but it was close enough for sure. Soon, he was getting close. He told me he was going to squirt on his chest soon, and instructed me not to stop. We maintained that eye contact, he continued stroking, and then began grunting very loudly and very hard. Cum began blasting out of his cock and right up his chest, just like he said it would.

After six or seven blasts, it was subsiding, and he told me to lick it up and spit it into his mouth. We had not discussed that at all, but I didn’t even think about it, I just did it. There was so much cum that it took me at least a half dozen “trips” with my tongue from his body to his mouth to deliver all the cum. I was shocked he was so into eating his own cum, something I could never do. I will say that his cum tasted Heavenly. I was surprised how good it tasted to me. I was sure to swallow some for myself. I felt like it was a reward. I even headed down to suck the last few drops right out of his piss slit. What a treat!

I was still inside him and fucking, but I had slowed down during his orgasm and the cum feeding.

When he had eaten all there was, he told me to fill him up, so I resumed fucking. Seeing him laying there like that, looking up at me, with cum all over his face put me over the top. I told him I was ready to bust. I gave him several deep thrusts, each one delivering a hot shot of cum. He said, “Jesus, God” with every one of them.

When I was done, he wrapped his legs around me and told me, “no, don’t pull out. Just let it stay in there.” Ok…I did it, but didn’t know what to do at that point. I wanted to kiss him, because it’s what felt right, but I was hesitant to try that.

Finally, I got brave and leaned in, hoping he wouldn’t reject me. He opened his mouth and latched onto my tongue, kissing me pretty intensely for several minutes before releasing my tongue. I was just laying on top of him with my dick still inside. It felt nice. It was somehow so familiar, in spite of the fact that this was all wildly new and totally unknown to both of us.

He told me, “when you pull out, try not to let your cum leak out. Push it back in me as much as possible.” I did exactly as he asked.

I asked him how his asshole felt, and he said, “it feels great. It feels like it was made for that.” What an answer!

We stayed on the bed for a while, just talking about whatever…normal things, really. After a while, I asked if he wanted to shower, and he said, “no. I don’t. I just want to stay like this.” Wow, ok. Tom was just filled with all kinds of surprises.

So, I asked, “what do you want to do?” He said, “let’s go get sodas and ride the Jet-Ski until your parents get here.” He stood up and took his swim trunks out of his bag, and slid them on. I followed suit. I asked him if he wanted to put his stuff in his room. He looked at me half-disgusted and said, “really?” I just said that I didn’t mean anything by it, and he could obviously sleep wherever he wanted.

Tom said, “obviously, I’m sleeping with you. You really think your parents don’t already think we do this stuff together?” I was shocked, and told him I was sure they did not. He just laughed and said, “yeah, OK. Didn’t you hear your aunt refer to me as your boyfriend last year?” WHAT?! NO, I DID NOT!!!

I really didn’t think they thought that at all. All of this was a shock to me. I imagined it would kill my poor mother if she found out.

Tom told me my parents were a lot smarter than I gave them credit for. That night when we got in bed, I asked him, “so, what now?” He laughed and said, “what do you mean?” I asked him, “well, so what has changed between us.” He replied, “nothing at all. Nothing has changed between us.” He rolled over, and spooned me, being the big spoon. I could feel his warm breath on my neck, and his arm around me. I leaned back around and kissed him on the lips. He returned the kiss. It was so comforting and so comfortable. That’s both how we fell asleep, and how we woke up: entangled in one another, and naked…

Hey guys!

I write sensual, character-driven gay erotic fiction, stories that build tension and explore desire. I just launched a new multi-chapter story called "Track meat" (about a runner whose training camp sparks intense attraction with his mysterious roommate). Another story called "My man's best man" (about a bachelor weekend that turns out much steamier than expected) is coming at the end of the week!

Chapter 1 of "Track meat" is available now here and on Patreon (first chapters will be free for all members, no payment required) : Get more from Roman Vice on Patreon

If you're into slow burn, hot guys, hidden tension, and zero shame, this one's for you. New chapters drop every week.
Let me know what you think, I'm just getting started! And... enjoy!

Roman Vice

One night in September it was about 1:30 am I was bored, checking out a guy on Romeo. I wanted to meet this boy so much he was very handsome, 185cm, same age, blonde hair green eyed hot boy, with a nice fit hairless body + wet uncut bwc. he was not far away 3,5km by car … after a few minutes chatting and sending pics of ourselves, hard and leaking, he told me he was fantasising about me picking him up driving naked, he made me so curious, I wanted to try that and meet him like rn.

But I had a problem… I had no car! so the only opportunity I had was to steal the keys to my dad’s 15 year old Volvo, Only to find out how it would feel like to drive naked late at night,

I changed into my red sport shorts, a white tank top, no boxershorts, white Tennis socks and white NIKE AirForce1, as his Fantasy requested. I did a quick wash on my important parts (if u know u know), brushed my teeth & perfume. Fresh and ready to explore new things…

Mission nearly-impossible! SNEAK&GO!

So I went past the salon, sneaked past my parents' bedroom, quietly took the keys, closed the door, slowly walked down the stairs and finally got in to the car. Full off adrenaline and fully focused, I did not even start the car, I just released the handbrake and let the car roll down the street to avoid any sound that maybe wakes up my dad… & I 100% made it

I was young, what can I tell you!

He texted me his location, it was near a forest. a very quiet and small village consisting of one main road and many smaller alleys, One busstop and a few corner shops. I told him to be at the bus stopp soon, so I can see him and pick him up quickly.

He agreed and snapped me a pic of him wearing a white Jockstrap, and we equally wearing white socks and white NIKE AirForce1& a very cute yellow "TheNorthFace" oversized hoodie covering nearly everything down to his knees. Not sure if I paid attention to the road consistently . Got wet.

So I drove up a very curvy road, and my semi hard wet d flopped around between my legs, while i was still wearing my sport shorts. Fantasising about what we/he would do… not even after 5 min mostly speeding, I was close to his address, so I decided to take off my top and my shorts & and laid them down on the passenger seat. Realising I was Sitting naked in my dad’s car, at night, nothing covering my wet C … strangely enough but it made me hard AF.

Slowly Arrived.

I stopped the car and waited at the bus station in case other cars would pass me by but no cars at all. Nothing. And he was also not there… so I decided to txt him… It was cold outside, maybe he was hiding somewhere warm, watching the street until I will drive by, to make sure I was really naked. As I grabbed my phone he opened the door, no pants only the yellow cozy hoodie and his jockstrap. as I saw for a moment as he sat on my passenger seat.

He looked awesome. He brought a blanket In a small plastic bag. As he closed the door He kissed me right away. Looked me in the eyes and kissed me again. I took part it felt so unreal. He even looked better than on his photos. I touched his leg. He touched mine. He he stiffened my balls and my hard d. He told me to drive he would explain me the way to a place. I realised I was driving back the street I came from, and I remember that I saw a little parking spot (supposed for tourists, taking a hike). He took me there.

The Hut..
I was so excited. He told me to park and leave the car with him, he took me under his blanket. His body on my body rubbing in the cold, he led us to a little cross path in to the forest till I saw a little hut. He grabbed the handle. I was a confused and a little bit nervous, what that was for and who it belongs to. It was open, inside this tiny little cabin was a cute sofa and pillows and 2-3 candles, he lit the candles. And locked the door from inside. It was surprisingly warm. It was Totally fine not ugly or musty or scary at all. My d was leaking dripping down my leg…..

____________________________
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Kutaisi, Georgia.

Once upon a time I was travelling on Central Asia. After some weeks in Georgia, I was in my room, just packing my suitcase as it was my last day in Kutaisi. In a little while I was leaving for Cyprus to continue my never-ending journey. I was chatting with a man on Grindr, what one would call a way "to kill time".

"What are you doing right now?" I asked him.
"I'm at university."
"Oh, teaching?"
"No... studying."

He was barely twenty-four years old, and he just wanted to experiment, according to him. Well, more than that: he told me he'd been horny for a long time and only wanted to do one thing.

Fuck.

After struggling unsuccessfully with the front door, a cute, blond man with green eyes, very modest and somewhat introverted, entered my room. His face barely had a beard, no mustache, the hallmark of every Muslim in the region, the same one every practicing Muslim has in Chechnya or Azerbaijan. He was carrying his university backpack with his notes still fresh from the class he was taking.

— You're not Georgian, are you?
— Yes and no, I'm Azari.

We were both incredibly crazy, horny as hell, and through his pants, all I could see was a huge erection that I couldn't help but pounce on. It wasn't until I'd gotten him completely wet and he was helplessly massaging me to dilate me that we proceeded to continue. He opened his backpack, pulled out a notebook on the table, and behind it, a condom.

I use PrEP both to protect myself and for the comfort of others. As a bottom, the difference in sensation between using a condom and not isn't relevant to me, and I do it to make the other person feel comfortable. This was the case with him, who didn't mind using a condom at all, despite knowing that with me he could do it without it.

After pushing his cock inside me, he kept moving inside me. I could see that he was truly curious, that his sex life was just beginning, and his innocence was still evident. I saw myself reflected at him, asking permission to move inside me, to turn around, and he wondered, staring at me with those eyes, if he was doing it right, seeking approval from someone older who would tell him he was doing fantastic.

Then he hugged me, and, feeling more than comfortable while he pounded me with his cock—which wasn't small at all—he asked me with the same caution a guy like him would ask someone older:

—Please Sir, would you let me impregnate you?
—Like, what? You mean, do it bareback?
—Yes. It must feel good.

I nod. He takes a few steps back and removes the condom. I could see he was excited, without telling me clearly that this was the first time he was going to impregnate another man. He takes my phone, wanting to remember what this first time would be like, and he started to film it while he put the phone against the window.

Two minutes of a flashback to my early years of having sex.
It was like going back to my own sexual awakening.

My bro just started to slide his dick inside my hole and his eyes just turned white. "It's so warm", he said while I could hear he sticky sound of his dick just going back and forward opening more. One, two, ten times, he was just pushing it, taking it out, seeing with his eyes how a hole can be gapped with a big smile in his face ike he was proud of what he was going. Then, just put it back again.

—Sir, sir, I think I'm going to cum.
—Don't worry bro, do it.
—Please, can I?

I didn't even have time to say yes. His cut dick just accelerate his movements inside of me and I could feel how tight his body went once his first rope of milk came out of his dick. He was looking at my face like he couldn't believe what was happening. Yes, he was breeding me, filling his first ever ass with his juicy cum. In that moment of reflection, he just push his last thrust inside of me and took it out, looking his dick like he doesn't believe what just happened.

—Thank you so much.
—You're welcome, bro.

Dad’s College Friend

Prologue




Rain.

Heavy rain.

Falling over the mountains, crashing against stone and pine, soaking the earth in silence.

Just the storm. Just the cold. Just the wilderness swallowing itself.

No signs of human life, no lights, no roads.

Below, beside a still lake—

Pickup truck, dented on side, rusted a bit.

Three rocks, formed a cooking pit, drowned in rain

Pot and plates, leftovers soaked in rain

A camping tent, large enough for one man.

But tonight, it held two.

---

“aaaahh... ah.”
Colin’s moans slipped out soft and breathless—an urgent sound that carried no fear, only hunger. A quiet plea for more, more of this new, raw feeling.

His body was lean rather than bulky, with subtle muscle tone from morning runs and home workouts. Not overly athletic, but fit enough to carry a natural strength.. His young and muscle bubble butt hole clenched tight around Jeremy’s girthy cock, pulling him deeper with every thrust. Youthful and taut, his skin glistened faintly in the dim light, every movement trembling between pleasure and discovery.

Had he ever imagined that he’d be here—camping alone with his dad’s old college friend? Sharing this secret, this forbidden tension? Not in a million years.

Jeremy pressed harder, driving inside him again and again. His solid, comfortable frame radiated quiet strength—broad shoulders softened by time, a chest neatly trimmed but thickening with dark hair, and a belly firm and toned beneath his touch. His sturdy thighs grounded him, while his big, hairy ass cheeks clenched around, warm and alive—an intoxicating blend of raw masculinity.

He hadn’t told many that he fucked men. Maybe he was afraid—afraid of what his friends might say, or how it could fracture his macho reputation. But never had he thought he’d be fucking Ethan’s son. Especially knowing how much Ethan despised gay men.

Yet here they were.

Two men.

Just two men.

Locked in pleasure.

What could go wrong?

What can go wrong?

__

[[ Editors Note:

Hello everyone,

This is my third story here.

The first one was about the mating of two dads—Nathan and Parker—two single fathers falling in love. Colin, who is Parker’s nephew, is the focus of this new story. It follows how Colin discovers and falls in love with a man.

Keep the story on watch, new and exciting chapters ahead.

Thank you ]]

This is an AI generated story based off a real person.

Background and context. This is based off a real person but the names changed. The setting for this ok a submarine in the Royal Navy but it will be a slow burner.

The characters
Logan – confident, straight, tanned, muscular, tattooed, comfortable in his skin; has a girlfriend back home but enjoys being admired.

Eli – gay, thoughtful, observant, quiet at first, but bold when he senses a crack in the surface.

PART 1

The hum of the engine was constant — a low, steady sound that echoed through the corridors of the submarine like a heartbeat. It was day 42 beneath the surface, somewhere deep in the Pacific, and routine had a way of wearing men down to their instincts.





Eli had gotten used to the rhythm of the boat. Wake. Train. Eat. Monitor systems. Sleep. Repeat. But what he hadn’t gotten used to was Logan.





Logan was sunshine trapped below sea level — golden skin, lazy smiles, the kind of swagger that didn’t need to announce itself. He had a girlfriend back home, sure. Everyone knew that. Her photo was pinned above his bunk, surrounded by scribbled jokes and folded notes. But Logan also had… a presence. He knew how good he looked in tight regulation boxers, knew the way conversations stopped just for a second when he entered a room shirtless after a workout.





He caught Eli looking once.





Just once.





And he didn’t get angry. He smirked.





That smirk stayed with Eli long after lights-out.











The air on the sub was dry, recycled, and impersonal — but their conversations weren’t. It started with small talk in the gym, banter in the mess hall, then longer exchanges during night watch. Logan was open in a way that felt teasing sometimes — leaning a little too close when he spoke, throwing a towel at Eli’s face when he was shirtless, stretching in ways that didn’t need to be that revealing.





And always, always the boxers.





Eli couldn’t help noticing the way the fabric clung when Logan walked the corridor after a shower, towel over his shoulder, bare feet padding down metal floors, totally unfazed. There was a bulge, not exaggerated — just honest, relaxed confidence.





“You like staring, don’t you?” Logan said one evening, catching Eli watching from his bunk.





Eli’s mouth went dry. “Sorry.”





Logan shrugged. “You don’t have to be. I’m not stupid, man. I know I give off a vibe.”





Silence pulsed between them.





“And besides,” Logan added, “It’s been six weeks underwater. You think I haven’t thought about it?”

Ben's Plumbing Adventures: The Case of Deborah's Blocked Sink​

Ben was new to the gig economy, a plumber fresh out of trade school, trying to make a name for himself in the bustling city. TaskRabbit had become his lifeline, connecting him with clients who needed leaky faucets fixed or drains unclogged. At 25, with a muscled frame, a shock of ginger hair, a hairy chest, and hairy legs that spoke of rugged charm, Ben was finding his groove. His easy smile and knack for fixing things made him a favorite among clients. Little did he know, some jobs would offer more than just a paycheck.

It was a humid Tuesday morning when Ben got a TaskRabbit alert: Deborah, 45, needs a kitchen sink unclogged. ASAP. $75. The address was in a swanky neighborhood, all manicured lawns and sleek modern houses. Ben grabbed his toolbox, threw on his work boots, and headed out, expecting a routine job.

When he arrived at Deborah’s house, the door swung open before he could knock. There stood Deborah, a striking woman in her mid-forties with auburn hair pulled into a loose bun, wearing a silky robe that clung just a bit too closely to her curves. Her green eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned against the doorframe.

“You must be Ben,” she said, her voice low and teasing. “My hero plumber. The sink’s been a naughty boy, clogging up my whole morning.”

Ben chuckled, used to clients trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll take care of it, ma’am. Lead the way.”

“Call me Deborah,” she said, her smile widening as she turned, her robe swishing dramatically. Ben followed her into a pristine kitchen, where the sink was backed up, a murky pool of water sitting stubbornly in the basin.

As Ben set to work, unscrewing the P-trap and checking for blockages, Deborah lingered nearby, leaning on the counter. “You’re awfully young to be so handy,” she said, twirling a strand of hair. “Do you always work this… thoroughly?”

Ben glanced up, catching the playful glint in her eye. “Gotta be thorough to get the job done right,” he replied, matching her tone. He found the culprit—a nasty clog of grease and food scraps—and started clearing it out. But as he tightened the pipe back into place, a sudden hiss warned him too late. Built-up pressure in the line erupted, and the sink exploded with a gush of water, soaking Ben from head to toe. His shirt clung to his muscled chest, revealing the dark ginger hair beneath, and his pants were drenched, sticking to his hairy legs.

“Oh my!” Deborah gasped, her eyes wide but twinkling with amusement. “You poor thing, you’re soaked!” She darted to a cupboard, grabbing a fluffy white towel and thrusting it toward him. “Here, dry off. But that won’t do—you can’t stay in those wet clothes. Let me toss them in the dryer for you.”

Ben hesitated, wiping his face with the towel. “It’s fine, really. I’ll dry out.”

“Nonsense!” Deborah insisted, her tone firm but playful. “You’ll catch a cold, and I won’t have that on my conscience. Strip down, I’ll handle the rest.”

Seeing no way out, Ben relented. He peeled off his sodden shirt and pants, revealing a pair of snug black briefs that left little to the imagination. His boots stayed on, the contrast making Deborah’s eyebrows shoot up. “Nice briefs,” she commented, her lips curling into a coy smile as she took in his chiseled physique and the ginger hair dusting his chest and legs. “Very… fitting.”

Ben’s cheeks flushed, but he handed over his clothes, standing awkwardly in her kitchen in just his underwear and boots. Deborah whisked the wet garments away, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll have these dry in no time. Make yourself at home!”

When she returned, the sink was fixed, the water draining smoothly. Ben was packing up his tools, still in his briefs, when Deborah leaned against the counter again. “You’re good with your hands, aren’t you?” she said, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. “I have a proposition, Ben.” She reached into a drawer, pulled out a stack of cash, and counted out $400 in crisp bills. “This is for the sink… and maybe a little extra work. Nothing too complicated. Just you, me, and an hour of fun. What do you say?”

Ben’s heart raced. The cash was tempting—more than he’d make in a week of TaskRabbit gigs. Deborah’s gaze was intense, her lips parted slightly, waiting for his answer. His mind flashed to his empty wallet, the thrill of her attention, and the way her eyes lingered on his barely-clad form. This time, he didn’t hesitate. “Alright, Deborah,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “Let’s see what kind of fun you have in mind.”

Her smile was triumphant, like she’d won a game she’d been playing all along. “Oh, Ben,” she purred, stepping closer. “You won’t regret this.” She handed him the $400, her fingers brushing his calloused hand, and led him out of the kitchen, leaving his toolbox behind.

As he drove to his next gig later that afternoon, his clothes now dry and his wallet heavier, Ben couldn’t help but grin. Deborah had left him a five-star review on TaskRabbit, with a note: Exceptional service. Will book again for my next plumbing emergency. Plumbing, it seemed, was turning out to be a lot more interesting than he’d ever imagined.

Hi folks. I have not posted any new stories here for a while... I have been busy with work and life in general... Nevertheless, I fooled around with this story over the past couple of days. It is based on a fellow member of LPSG who I met in the chat room...

Let me know if you think this is worth developing further.

Cheers

JJ

Rory J. Washington was a new student in town. He was the first Afro-American to attend St. Jerome High School in this remote mining town in Northern Canada.

A 17 year old black student at St. Jerome High School was a novelty, but Rory was even more unique. At five foot seven inches tall and 175 pounds of solid muscle he created a sexual buzz in the school.

The male students were impressed with his thick wrestler’s neck and powerful physique. The girls loved his bright white smile and mischievous laughing eyes. Like any high school full of horny hormone overdosed teenagers, they all wanted to get a look at his athletic body; they wondered about his junk. Even the teachers felt the sexual energy and were drawn to the physical attributes of the good looking young black student from Rochester New York.

Rory’s dad, a successful dentist in up state New York, was lured to this remote northern mining town by an international mining company. Business was booming; gold prices were almost a thousand dollars an ounce. In just a few short years the town had doubled in size.

The company had re-opened two mines and was aggressively exploring for new gold veins in the area. All this economic activity was attracting new workers to the frontier. The company established a medical practice for the employees in the fast growing community and Mr. Washington was the new dentist.

The high school had also grown. There were new students arriving every month.

St. Jerome, a small sleepy school of less than 500 students a couple of years ago, had grown to over 800 students. The school hired additional staff, installed new portables and built a new gym. The mining company donated money for a new weight room, sports equipment and updated showers and change facilities.

Nevertheless, St. Jerome was still small compared to where Rory had attended school in New York State. Most of the schools he competed against had two to three thousand students.

Rory was on the wrestling team at his old high school and was undefeated in his weight class. He had dreams of winning the state championship again this year and making the U.S. Olympic team. His coach in Rochester N.Y. had pushed him hard and trained him well.

Like the gold mining town, Rory had almost doubled in size over the past couple of years. Between growing into adolescence and his aggressive wrestling training Rory had bulked up and packed on the muscle.

Rory had impressive growth in another part of his anatomy too. Once he hit adolescence his already impressive uncircumcised black cock grew in both length and circumference. When Rory was fully hard he was a jaw dropping 11.5 inches long and the bulging head was over eight inches around.

Rory was just starting to realize the benefits from his physical endowment before they left Rochester New York. He was getting his fair share of pussy and even getting some pretty bold sexual advances from some of the guys in his school. He was enjoying his physical prowess on the wrestling mats and his sexual prowess too.

At five foot seven inches tall and 175 pounds he was ripped. His thighs were thick and his shoulders were broad. His wrestling coach had been training him for almost four years. Rory had both the skill and the physique of a wrestling champion. He had a thick bull neck and powerful upper body strength. He could pin an opponent in seconds.

Rory’s New York coach taught him to shave his body before competitions. His coach explained that a smooth hard shaved body, glistening with sweat, was harder to grab. Rory shaved his muscular arms, chest and his tree trunk thighs before every state competition.

Rory liked the look of his defined muscles in his tight wrestling singlet. As he became more conscious of his physical appearance Rory started shaving more than just his legs and his arms. He started to shave his head, his arm pits and his crotch. His smooth black skin looked awesome in a tight lycra wrestling singlet.

When he pulled the one piece sling up over his big round shoulders the vertical lines of the stretched material accented his V-shaped torso. The lycra clung tight to his hard bubble butt and accented the sculpted muscles of his chest. There was no mistaking the big package he was carrying between his legs. Rory knew the singlet left nothing to the imagination. That was okay because he knew he was hot.

He liked the attention he got from the girls in high school. In New York he would scout out the best looking chick in the stands before a competition and make sure he made eye contact. He would wink and kiss his two fingers on his right hand then point them at her while he flexed his tight smooth body. He would kiss his fingers again and place them on his heart as he made his pectoral muscles bounce. The crowd would cheer and the girl would smile and blush.

Of course, during the wrestling match, the girl he targeted would cheer wildly for him and after he won, which he always did, they would hook up so she could give him his reward …

Unfortunately, now that he was in Northern Canada, St. Jerome wasn’t as big a school. The sports events didn’t have the same attendance he was used to in New York. There were fewer bitches in the stands at St. Jerome to choose from.

Needless to say, he was really pissed off at his parents for moving to this fucking town in the middle of nowhere. Rory believed that the opportunities for his wrestling were fucked and there wasn’t as much pussy in St. Jerome High School as he could get down south.

Rory was about to learn that the women in this town were some of the horniest on the continent. They were hungry to show the young hung black kid from New York what real sex was like.

Alguien sabe algo de el ?