At 12pm eastern standard time, every penis on Earth that is attached to a human adult male and is 7 inches or longer when erect suddenly explodes like a fire cracker. Although the owners of the exploding dicks all survive, there is nothing left of their massive members and the world has no more hung studs.

Except for you.

Your dick is the only big dick to survive this act of God and now you're the last hung stud on Earth.

How does this change your life? Do you share your status with the rest of the world? How does this affect your relationship with your significant other or the men around you, both Smalls and former studs?

Ricky was so handsome and all the girls in my sorority loved him. We would talk about how good looking he was at the fraternity that we lived next door to and would giggle about who was going to seduce him. Ricky was about 6’2”, thin but with a defined build, long flowing hair, and a great smile.

I was walking back from class to my sorority house one day and when I was waiting to cross the street at the college campus, who was walking right behind me but Ricky. I crossed the street, and turned the corner with him still walking behind me obviously back to his frat house. So, after a few minutes, I turned around and say in an annoyed voice, “Are you following me?” Now, I consider myself pretty, but not model material by any means. I have a medium sized chest, and wish my hips were a bit smaller, but with my blond hair and overall shape, I have had a few boyfriends. Ricky thought I was serious and stammered, “No, I um, I am at the Frat house there on the corner” pointing down the street. “Oh, you are next door to me” acting like I never noticed him. We started chatting as we walked and as we neared his Frat house he said, “Do you follow the football team?” I really didn’t care about sports but said, “Yes.” He said, would you like to go to the game with me this Saturday?” My heart skipped and I felt my pulse race but acted for a minute like I was thinking and then said, OK. We decided upon the time to head there that Saturday and said our goodbyes. I rushed into my sorority where a number of my sisters were around and announced, “Guess whom I am going to the game with this Saturday?” When I told them, all the girls laughed and a few gave me the high five and we all laughed. A few were jealous and everyone wanted details on how this all had occurred.

That Saturday as planned we went to the game which secretly I was bored to death as I don’t understand football but celebrated and we ever hugged I guess when our team did well. We really hit it off. After the game, he asked me to come back to the Frat house for a party. I was introduced to many of the guys and also some of their dates. It quickly became that we were boyfriend and girlfriend. In fact, at that party Ricky asked me to go with him the next day to see a movie. We held hands during the movie and we kissed when he walked me back making out for a good 15 minutes. Of course each time the girls wanted to hear all the details.

We saw each other on a few more dates and then perhaps 3 weeks later there was a big party at his Frat house. We were drinking and at times we played under the table. Finally, Ricky asked if I wanted to see the rest of the fraternity house. We went upstairs and eventually went into this small room and lay on the bed making out. A few times he would rub my breasts and I would push his hand away. But, I was really turned on and when he had given up, this time I took his hand and placed it on my breast. He smiled and lifted up my shirt, removed my bra and starting sucking on my breast. He slowly moved his hand down and when there was no resistance he went underneath and slipped his finger inside my pussy moving it about. I moaned and we kissed deeply. He then stood up to remove his clothes quickly pulling off his shirt, kicking off his shoes, pulling his pants down, and then stepping out of his underwear. My face dropped as I was staring at a soft or perhaps semi soft penis that looked the size of a peanut. My mind raced. How could such a good looking well built man have such a silly looking small penis? Now, I won’t claim that I was super sexually experienced, but I was not a virgin, I had a few past boyfriend/lovers, and of course had seen some internet porn and on occasion two of my brothers naked. I was turned off to be honest and disappointed as my excitement and horniness dissipated. But it was too late, I didn’t know what to do and I certainly was not going to hurt his feelings. He lay back down next to me as we continued to make out and then moved to go down on me. His oral techniques were really good and it felt really good. That got me back in the mood and after he finished, I moved to suck his cock. The first thing I thought to myself was how easy it was to suck the entire penis fully in my mouth. But, when I tried to stretch it as I had learned to do with my past boyfriends it hardly had any elasticity. I could hear him moan and it did get hard, but when I removed my mouth to look at it, all I saw was maybe at best a 5” somewhat thin penis. He slipped on a condom and quickly moved on top of me and entered me with absolutely no difficulty. In fact, it felt more like a finger wiggling around than a penis. It had no sensation or stimulation of my vagina but I pretended like he was pleasing me. Several times it would fall out which was annoying but I did my best to moan and act like he was fucking me with my having so much pleasure. I have no idea if he came because I couldn’t feel anything so if there was any spasm as I could normally feel with other guys; well in this case I had no idea. But, eventually he stopped and we laid there while he kissed me. Eventually we got dressed and headed back down. A few of my sorority sisters were at the party and saw me coming down with him. My thoughts were how can I not do this again without making it obvious. But, sexually, his small size honestly was a complete turn off. It simply did not feel good.

When I went back to the sorority house the girls at the party told the others that we had fucked. All the girls came into our room and wanted the details. Should I have told them the truth?

A Strange Case (MF, MMF, Penis Expansion, Breast Expansion, TG/Futa/Gender Bender)

This is my first story, so I hope it isn’t terrible. It has been inspired by some of the classics from 25 years ago from the newsgroups and the Chili Palmer archive.

==================================

I had been spending my Saturday, like I do many Saturdays, sitting in the couch, killing time and digital bad guys with my friend Ryan when the doorbell rang.

I opened the door and there was my ex-girlfriend and Ryan’s ex-girlfriend Erica. “What are you guys killing today? Zombies, Nazis, or Nazi Zombies?” she asked playfully as she walked in.

Erica had dated both Ryan and I in the past, but, unlike many relationships, somehow we all remained friends and actually became closer because of it.

I kind of knew Erica for years. Her sister and I had been friends in high school, and Erica was two years younger than her. Erica was a flat-chested nobody as a freshman, so it came as a surprise one day when I was at her house picking up her sister and while I was waiting outside I heard her sister finish what must have been an argument: “What do you even need them for?” Apparently Erica’s sister was late because she couldn’t find a bra and discovered her sister had been taking them. Her sister continued, “They’re 36C, so you can’t even use them!”

That was enough of a comment to have me take notice, especially because Erica could and did use them. She sprouted boobs it seemed like overnight and in secret, but obviously it was just quickly and on a girl that did nothing to draw attention to herself. I know in retrospect this may sound shallow, but at the time I heard that I was a high school boy, raging with hormones, and definitely a breast man; so, a girl with an ample bustline was as good as any a reason for me to consider the girl as a potential dating prospect. Erica’s sister’s remark put Erica on my radar.

I was slow to move, but it worked in both Erica’s and my favor. By the time I had secured an introduction and we began dating, Erica she had stopped borrowing her sister’s bras because she was stretching them out too much, and instead was enjoying her own, larger size. Erica and I ended-up dating for about a year, but things fell apart when I went off to college and she stayed at home. There was no big drama, we just couldn’t sustain the relationship, which is probably why we never had the dramatic break-up, stayed friends, and never dropped out of touch.

Sometime after we both had finished college we both ended-up moving to the same city away from home. Although we dated other people, we still were friends that had occasionally had sexual tension, some awkward moments, and even the rare lapse in judgement when we both were single, lonely, and a bit too horny. The years apart and then together as friends had actually made us grow closer due us developing our own interests that ended-up being the same or similar.

I met Ryan through Erica. He was one of the first guys she dated having moved to the city. He was a bit put-off and intimidated by my friendship with Erica when she first brought it up, but upon our first meeting he and I hit-it-off. It was like we were long-lost brothers or had been best friends for years within minutes of meeting. I always told Erica that the best thing that came out of her relationship with Ryan was I got a new best friend, which she would act facetiously jealous over the fact she had been replaced.

Their relationship did not last long. Their personalities were too different, her being more on the bookish side, like me, and him being more the jock, but they were able to figure these differences out quickly enough to end their romantic relationship after only a few months and have a friendship take its place. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they occasionally had their own hook-ups from time to time when they were not seeing other people, but it never came up in conversation and it was not my business.

So this was not an uncommon occurrence for the three to hang out together on a Saturday afternoon. “Nothing so exotic on the menu today,” I replied, “just your run-of-the-mill aliens bent on world domination. And beating Ryan on kills and high score as he just tries to keep up.”

“Keep up, John?” Ryan shouted from the couch in the other room, “While you are in there ogling your girlfriend, I am dancing around your corpse.”

There was not ogling (well maybe there was), but how could I not? Erica seemed to only get better with age. Now a few years past college and her Master’s degree, she was far more mature looking that the teenager I had dated in high school, but still had that unmistakable vibrance of youth. She was 5’2 (so I had the perfect view down at her from my almost 6 feet), had shoulder length dirty blond hair, a slight tan you can’t help but get living in Southern California and even walk outside in the daytime, and she was wearing a pink floral, knee length sundress that only slightly hid her curves and very ample breasts (while she caught my attention with her breasts when we dated, they were even bigger now).

There was something different about her though this Saturday – in addition to her purse and shopping bag she came in carrying rather large and old looking leather covered, strapped case. She carried her things into the family room, where Ryan was sitting on the couch, continuing to try to run up the score while my lifeless body filled the other part of the splitscreen.

“So what is the deal with the case?” I asked her.

“I was just out doing some shopping and about to come over here, when I noticed a new antique store that had opened right next to some of my regular shopping spots,” she replied motioning to her shopping bag that likely contained whatever it was she bought at those stores. “I never had noticed the store before. They must have done the renovations very quickly, because I must have missed the grand opening and it seemed to come out of nowhere. So, you know me, I love antiques and just thought I would stop in to see if there was anything I would like. I browsed for a little and was about to leave, when, on the way out, the owner, the nicest, most unobtrusive old man, spoke up and brought this case to my attention.”

At this point in her story she sat down on the couch next to Ryan and set the case on the coffee table. Ryan seemed to be paying half attention now to what she was saying, or her presence and the case made him break some of his concentration on the video game.

Erica unbuckled that leather straps that ran around the case, clicked open its latch, and opened the lid to reveal rows and rows of, what I would call “potions,” if they did not appear to be medical in nature.

“Isn’t it just perfect for me?” she asked with excitement in her voice, reveling in her find. “It was almost like the owner knew exactly what would interest me. Ever since I graduated and started working at the pharmaceutical company I have been looking for something like this. It combines my love of antiques with my love of science.”

“Great,” said Ryan in an over-the-top exaggerated deadpan, “but what is it?”

I sat down on the other end of the couch with Erica in between Ryan and I to try to get a better look at it.

“The antique store owner said it was an antique medical case from the mid-to-late 1800s; however, the antique store owner said this one was unique because it wasn’t just the kit of a doctor or pharmacist, but was the mobile workshop of the doctor-slash-scientist that made the compounds,” she said with enthusiasm.

I looked over the vials upon vials sitting in the case. “There must be dozens of them in here. And many of them have a slight glow or phosphorescence even after all these years. Is it safe to be in my family room on my coffee table?”

“Do you think I would bring hazardous materials to a Saturday hangout with two of my best friends and in one of their homes? You know me, I was extremely cautious and skeptical. I had my radiation badge from work in my purse and the shop owner had an old Geiger counter for sale – neither reacted at all to these things. The old man saw how concerned and cautious I was and took a step even further to prove it to me: he took out one of the vials and injected it into himself,” Erica replied.

Ryan set down his controller and was promptly killed by some angry digital alien. “Injected it?” Ryan asked incredulously, “I know die-hard juicers that wouldn’t mess with stuff that looked like that, let alone a rusty needle that is probably the size of a drinking straw.”

Erica laughed, “Of course not!” She pulled out the old injection device and syringe from the case that looked like its only place should be as a movie prop or at a steampunk convention. “This is what they used to use, but the owner crafted a sleeve to mate the vials with a modern syringe. See?” She held up a couple brand-new looking, twenty-first century, medical syringes and a handful of packages sterile needles. “You guys do remember what I do for a living, right? Besides, the old man explained that the notes of the scientist seem to indicate that the serums were originally developed to be taken orally, but he found intramuscular injection avoided their unpleasant taste.”

I was sitting in just the right spot to see everything Erica was talking about, and to get a good look at her cleavage at the same time. Why was I looking there? Sure, we had messed around a little in the past when we both were single, as we are now, but Ryan is here and getting caught by him looking or having too many of these thoughts would be awkward.

“So, what happened to the old man and how long did you watch him?” I asked.

“Nothing. I watched him about half an hour and we just chatted about his store, the contents of the case, and its history. Apparently, it comes from England and from a time when tonics, elixirs, and serums were very popular.”

The following tale is based on a true story of mine and around 95% true. It's my first submission here so here goes........

Part 1
The group gathered around in the class room as someone grabbed a banana and started to peel it; “One skin, two skin, three skin, four skin” the boys called out in unison. “Ha ha, look David, four skins, you don't have that many do you?” one teased as the others joined in with laughter. Once again they'd painfully pointed me out for being different to them. This was typical of the first few years in upper school through those early teenage years, a minor form of verbal bullying that focused on the most intimate part of my body being different to theirs.

My first recollection of naked bodies, I'd been petrified to use the communal showers. Not just because I was worried about being naked among my friends and peers, but also due to my being aware that my penis was different to almost all of the other boys in my year as I was circumcised.

The theme was that everyone was told by the games teacher to have showers after games lessons. However, virtually all the boys did their utmost to keep their underwear on when heading to the showers whilst trying to avoid being spotted by the games teacher from his office which adjoined the changing area.

The routine of everyone hiding from the games teacher and dashing in and out of showers continued. During this time I, on a few occasions, had been obliged to head into the showers naked, just as everyone else had following checks by the games teacher. This meant that virtually all of the boys in the year, at one time or another, had the opportunity to check-out what the rest of the year had 'going on down there'. This meant that most of the boys knew that I was one of only a very select number of boys who were circumcised. The fact that I was different led to fairly frequent teasing. The teases and taunts used to really upset me. Even some of the girls knew I was different as they used to hear the teasing. On one occasion I remember being mortified as one of the girls in the year followed-up on one of these bouts of teasing and turned me beetroot red by asking whether it was true; “are you really circumcised?”

What's worth bearing in mind is that whilst all variations of penis are a fairly frequent sight in the UK today due to The Internet, this was in the days of The Internet's infancy so there was no influx of porn or seeing different styles of cocks. The circumcised penis was not in the domain of boys our age and the school showers were the only environment in which boys would see other naked bodies of the same sex. I believed that I was one of only three boys out of around 120 or so in my year who were circumcised. There may well have been more, but these were the only ones that I could vouch for given who I'd seen naked in the showers or heard about through second hand accounts.

In summary, throughout upper school I was extremely shy and embarrassed of my skinny body and different looking penis. Furthermore, any time there was any mention of circumcision in general (such as in Religious Education) and teasing directed at me, I would want the ground to swell up and grab me as I started to blush. It's fair to say that during those years, there were absolutely no indications that I had any exhibitionist tendencies in me, nor did I realise that I would begin to like the body that I would evolve into.

I was 18 and in senior school. I was still thin and gangly, but I had fully transformed through puberty in the groin region. I had blossomed not only in length and girth, but also sported a penis complete with a round, bulbous mushroom head which flared-out wider than the shaft. I was lucky that my penis was very well formed and its design looked like it could have come straight out of a dildo catalogue. My ample penis was complemented with a full bush of dark pubic hair. And whilst I couldn't be considered as 'hung', I knew I now packed a considerable amount of cock which was only emphasised given the slender body it was mounted on. I had transformed into a man, yet I was still extremely shy and self-conscious of my different model of penis.

Then, suddenly, one day everything changed. I can't recall specifically why things changed, other than to say that on some level my mind must have been on a journey which was the catalyst for my behaviours and mindset to begin changing.

The sudden transformation in my behaviours occurred at the end of a typical games lesson which fell on the last period of the school day. As I hastily stripped off my muddy games kit down to my boxers and began wrapping my towel around my waste, all of a sudden I stopped in my tracks. “I don't need to go to the showers with my boxers on!” All of a sudden an emboldened, liberating feeling washed over me and I thought to myself; “Do you know what? I've got nothing to be shamed of. I can be proud of the body I've grown into and I'm going to take this opportunity to show that I am not embarrassed of my different looking penis or afraid of any jokes that may follow! It's time to stand-up to the teasing - I'll show this lot how I deal with bullies!”

So I proceeded to subtly remove my boxer shorts whilst doing my best to hold my towel around my waste. Without having much time to ponder next steps I headed off the short distance – probably 10 yards or so - towards the showers with only my towel wrapped around me as protection from my naked state. At this point I could already hear that there were a lot of guys in the shower. En-route I knew most – if not all - of them would be part-showering with boxer shorts on, nervous about displaying their naked bodies and trying their best to dangle their legs under the water to get the mud off whilst trying not to get anything else wet.

The showers, I guess, were typical of communal showers at the time with a wide-open entrance to the shower area with the showers themselves installed against a main wall and a secondary free-standing wall that stood at around 5 feet in height and ran parallel to the main wall. This created a semi-tunnel or avenue of showers which was approximately 6ft wide and ran for 15ft or so. The avenue of showers could be accessed from entrances at either end.

The routine that virtually everyone adopted was to drop their towels by the standing wall before heading around the corner and move a few feet to the point where just enough of the water was flowing so they could clean their legs. This created bottlenecks at either end of the avenue as no one wanted to risk heading too far towards to the middle of the showers and risk getting themselves – and their underwear – fully soaked. I'd adopted this approach throughout school and quite easily could have kept my towel around my waste and just headed around the corner to dip my legs into the water. However, in the last minute or so, I'd come to a realisation in my head that this time, things were going to be different.

As I reached the secondary wall to the shower a few raggedy towels were already laid down on the floor, the voices from the showers had grown louder and from the number of towels I could there were clearly quite a few guys awaiting around the corner, and I was about to be one of them.

I hesitated for a moment, pondering the implications of what I was about to do. “I can do this” I thought to myself, and with that, I proceeded to slowly loosen my towl and remove it from my hips before placing it on the floor. I was now standing completely naked with a large, hairy circumcised dong hanging between my legs, prepared and ready to let everyone see it.

I proceeded to start taking a few tentative steps towards the entrance to the showers. This was the big moment, my moment, there'd be no turning back from this. And with that I slowly started to walk around the corner and in only a matter of seconds I had come into full view of the other guys as I made my dramatic unveiling onto the naked shower stage in front of the gathered audience. I was past the point of no return.

I stood at one end of the showers for a few moments as I took in the surroundings not sure what to do next. All of a sudden I became very self aware as people took in the shock and surprise of seeing gangly David with his big, hairy circumcised knob standing naked amongst them. It was clearly quite an awkward moment for everyone around me as they recognised my naked state. This led to them overcompensating their movements so as to be sure not to come into contact with me. As a result I immediately began to cause somewhat of an exclusion zone around me as others started to move further away from where I was standing. I considered how I should proceed.

After a few seconds I began to register those gathered in front of me - at a conservative guess at least 15 boys – who were congregated into two distinct groups at either end of the showers. I soon spotted there was only one other boy who was also fully naked, a guy called Peter Brown who was standing towards the middle of the avenue of showers from where water from the two sets of jets was coming down on him. Peter was tall, bulky, and clearly not ashamed of what he had to show off.

As I began processing all the people in front of me I became aware of how liberating and exciting the situation felt. Whilst I was certainly able to control myself enough not to develop a semi erection, it's fair to say that I was showing-off my cock in a proud state of full softness given the warm and exciting environment. This made my cock hang full and impressively so that every slight movement resulted in a slight pendulum motion as I moved. It's the sort of swaying movement you certainly could not attain with a small, stumpy penis.

"Hmmm! What the heck," I thought to myself. "Why not?"

Debra, a mid-thirties neighborhood friend, suggested we enroll in a drawing class at the nearby university. We regularly do things together on days we do not have to work. Although married, Debra teeters at times on exploring her wild side, but to the best of my knowledge, had never followed through on anything.

We signed up for the class and began to look forward to our Wednesday evenings. Neither of us had any art/drawing experience, so things were rough at the beginning. But we had fun, then went for a couple drinks after class before heading home.

A few months into the class, the instructor, a mousy librarian looking woman, informed us we'd be entering into drawing of the human body phase of the course. We'd have the opportunity to learn to draw both a female and male body. The first few sessions we learned to draw from other drawings, but we found out that our next get-together would involve drawing the body while using a live male.

Debra and I both acted silly about the idea of drawing a nude male, but totally expected we'd both be mature about the whole things when the time came. We were ready.

But then we met Kyle.

As he entered the room, he wore the typical bath robe. He stood about 6-feet tall with boyish good looks, but we did learn he was a graduate student in the biology department who signed up to model for extra cash. He had short dark hair and looked like he probably only needed to shave once a week. My initial reaction was bascially, "not my type."

However, I admitted to Debra, "He's kinda cute."

Cute didn't last long. The librarian-looking sixties hippie instructor escorted Kyle to the staging area, where he'd be for the next hour. "Is everyone read to begin?" she asked. We nodded yes. "Okay, Kyle, please remove the robe and stand still facing us for a while."

Kyle didn't hesitate. Off came the robe, and it was immediately clear to Debra, myself, and everyone is that evening class that this college grad BOY put the state of David to shame. This lean but toned biology major qualified as WELL HUNG. His manhood softly dangled -- already long and already thick.

"Obviously a shower," I jokingly said to Debra. She replied, "And then some." Kyle already surpassed in his limp state the hard size of many guys I've "dated." I eyeballed him at 6 inches minimum; possibly even 7 inches.

He stayed rather composed the entire time; even as Miss Books re-positioned him a few times. In addition to his man-cock he had a firm cute ass with nary a hair. Part of me began to wonder if he just looked big because of his skinny body, but the more I looked, it appeared he was legit.

The class bell dinged. Time was up. The hour seemed like 20 minutes. Kyle picked up his robe, put it on, said thank you, and walked through the door to the side room. "See you next week," said Mary Hatch.

"Well that was interesting," said Debra. I laughed. "Um, sometimes a guy fools you." Not that I had some kind of preconceived notion of how hung or not hung this guy would be, but he reminded me to never judge a book by its cover. Over drinks, Debra admitted, "I haven't seen a guy that hung in years." She married years ago. I, however, was single, and did regular date new guys, but I had to agree with her to some extent. The new assumption was that even if he were rock hard, he wouldn't get much bigger.

I looked forward to our next drawing session.

We returned, and thankfully so did Kyle, Part II. Whether conscious or subconscious, I dressed up a little more for this class; dressed up meaning sexier. My top was tighter to highlight my firm B cups, and my jeans clung a little tighter to my ass. Boots rounded out the ensemble. Debra totally noticed my upgrade and laughed. "Hoping to see him rise a little bit huh?" Busted! I laughed.

We'd be drawing Kyle from the backside that day. An hour of his smooth but solid butt and his dong hanging from between. I sensed Kyle's confidence. He was not embarrassed in the least. And yet, there was no hint of arrogance either. He seemed like your typical good guy who just might not even know how exceptional he was down low.

I tried to stay professional, but another side of me wanted to get to know him more; pick his brain, see what makes him tick, see if he was naughty or nice. Oh, Santa! What goods you've brought into my presence.

At one point in this session, Kyle turned to his side, his hung-ness sparingly exposed to my eyes. That dark voice grew louder in my mind, "Touch yourself, Kyle. Tug on it for me." Stop it! Bad Melissa. But it persisted. "I wonder if he is into older women?" Argh!!!!!

Once again, the class bell rang much too soon. Unlike last time, Kyle lingered around afterward wearing his robe. He was having a conversation with Mary Hatch when two younger women approached them. I found myself laughably jealous. "Hey, stay away from him," I secretly shouted. Debra and I decide we'd say thank you to Mary but also toss a thank you Kyle's way, so we walked over.

As we approached, you could see he didn't tie his robe shut, so he stood there with it slightly open and his sizable softness in appreciative view. "Does he know he's doing that?" Debra and I thought. This young dude was comfortable in his own skin. We said thank you to Mary, and I turned to say thank you to Kyle. Our eyes met and neither of us looked away right away. Something just got communicated, but I didn't want to assume anything. I was the first to look away, and when I looked back, he offered a knowing smile. "Thanks for volunteering to do this for us," Debra said to Kyle. "Hey, grad ass needs every dime he can get, right?" So true. Part of me wanted to toss a c-note his way and say "Let me suck your cock." Behave Melissa.

"It beats working at the student center front desk," he added. "And anyways, part me enjoys doing this."

Ahh! A closet exhibitionist. I knew it. He's discovering more about himself as we draw his fine ass.

As we were saying our good-nights, I reached in my purse, pulled out a small sheet of paper and a pen, and wrote down my first name and cell number. When I say the right moment, I slid closer to Kyle and handed it to him. He took it and looked. Then he smiled at me again. "Just if you need anything, some help or a ride somewhere, let me know." I said it softly, and he got the message. This was between us.

TO BE CONTINUED ...

Anyone willing to share their screenshots of successful dating app hookups ? Such a turn in to see how it started and know how it ended up going.

In college a group of us used to go to the Brazos River by College Station and goof off playing in the river. It really wasn't deep enough to swim in. One Friday we went and I met Lisa. She was about 5'10" thin and Blonde hot, in other words way out of my class.

It was getting dark and we all decided to go back to the dorm and order in some pizza. Lisa asked if she could ride back with me, as her friend had left already. I immediately said yes. We went back to the commons area of my dorm and had pizza delivered and a couple of us brought beer from our rooms.

Lisa was sitting next to me and I could not stop but admire her body, long legs and medium tits. Around 11 she got up and kind of stumbled, "Oh I guess I have had too much to drink" then she giggled. I offered to take her home and she said that would be great. I took her hand and started out to my car and Lisa pulled me back and said "why don't we just go up to your room?" I immediately got an erection and said "Sure" Up the stairs we went. Luckily my roommate was out of town for the weekend.

We got up to the my room and when I closed the door behind us she pulled me to her and kissed me deep and ran her hands down my back. I was taken back a little as I really had not had a female be so aggressive with me before. I started to unbutton her blouse and unhooked her bra in the front. It fell back exposing two beautiful perky tits with large nipples. I ran my hand over them and pinched one of the nipples. She giggled again and drew my head down so I could suck on it. It was perfect and tasted so sweet. As I sucked on it she reached down to my crotch and rubbed my hard cock through my shorts and moaned as she unzipped me. Then I felt her hand inside of my pants and her cool hand began to stroke my cock. I knew at this point since it had been a week since I had cum I was not going to last long. I pulled her over to the bed and began to take my clothes off. She followed suit and when she took of her underwear a blonde bush was exposed and I took my hand and rubbed it and slipped a finger into her already wet pussy. She laid back on my bed and I spread her legs and buried my face in her pussy. The soft bush and sweet pussy juices only made me closer to cumming. My cock was dripping pre cum. She put her hands on my head and moaned and pushed herself against my face and arched her back. Then she gasped "oh baby make me cum" and I sucked and licked her clit as she gasped and moaned then she orgasmed. She went a little limb but her hand found my cock again and she pulled me up on her chest and let me slide my cock into her mouth. Those sweet lips running around the head then inviting me to push it in deeper. After about 2 minutes I pulled back and shot my first load all over the mouth and neck and chest. She pulled my cock forward again and licked it clean. I was in heaven. After a few minutes to catch my breath and pushed me on my back, straddled me and slid my cock in her balls deep. We fucked all night and the rest of the weekend.

She was visiting from another college and had broken up with her boyfriend and just wanted to fuck her cares away. We met up a few more times but she found another boyfriend and I was broken hearted but such is life.

He was young, not quite jail bait but not long legal. His short blond hair very school boyish.
The thought he was on his own, lying there on the beach in a slight hollow out of view of the passing world.
Naked as a baby, smooth skinned and pale, obviously a sun virgin, not even a tan line.
Pleasant body, maybe a little plump but it was baby fat, the sort of body its comfortable to hold and enjoy.
Lying on his front, quite broad in the shoulder, body tapering a bit to his waist then rising up firmly with his buttocks, perfectly hand shaped, round and full.

From where I was I could see his bum crack, a sliver of shadow in the middle of his bum mountains. He wriggled getting more comfortable, opened his legs to accommodate his comfort zone not being crushed and revealed a pair of heavy round balls - and with guesswork showed where his puckering hole would be it relation to the rest.

One hand went underneath, obviously not quite settled, and then he turned on his side, away from me. Looked very tempting the line from his shoulders down his spine and over his buttocks, now firmly together.
His arm was moving, and at a guess I had a good idea what he was doing, the nakedness and sun had got him horny and he was having a wank - and I was in the wrong place to see!
The wrist action got more speedy, then, flat on his back, cock in hand being worked feverishly, his balls jumping as his fist went up and down into his boyish thick golden bush and up again and then he arched his back and groaned and I watched it fly up his chest, hitting his chin, landing on a nipple, puddling in his navel and still his hand on auto squeezing out the last drops to ruin down his shaft and get soaked up by his pubic hair.

And then he just laid there, relaxed, empty, happy, his spunk dripping from his chin, settling round his nipple and gelling in his belly button, no run off, no attempt to clean up...his eyes closed in satisfaction of a wank well enjoyed.

Silently I moved and stood at his feet, admired his body and man juices spattered all over. My shorts well tented with the thrill of enjoying the spectacle, in fact, had he opened his eyes he would have seen my erect cock up the leg of my shorts.
I kneeled down besides him, don't move I whispered.
He didn't.
Eagerly I put my mouth over his nipples and sucked his cum , teased his other nipple with my fingers. My tongue came out and licked his chin, all clean and still he kept his eyes shut.
My mouth moved down to he belly button, and eagerly I sucked that up before moving to his cock shaft and pubic hair now coated and messy. His cock now softer and pliable didn't take long, a few laps and then down to munch the bush, suck out the cum remnants all the time feeling his boyish body yielding to my touch. I sucked his soft cock in, felt it stiffen quickly and my hands found his balls, teased them, touched them and then licked quickly before devouring his throbbing cock again. My hands now working under his body, he lifted so I could find his cheeks, my fingers worked round his buttocks, down the crack and found his hole, moist and warm and responded to my probing into his inner dampness - but alas the attention to his hole was a bit to much for his cock as he spurted into the back of my throat, three full squirts. I swallowed most, swished some along with his cock round my mouth then swallowed again and could feel his beast subside while still filling my mouth. Slowly I let it slip between my lips to rest on his pubic hair.

I licked up his body, round his nipples, now both pert and hard, under his chin till I kissed his lips, opened them, slipped my tongue inside and enjoyed reciprocal tongue time as my cock poked his body through my now soaked with pre cum shorts and needing to get some action.

His eyes opened, big and brown, he smiled, his hands worked down and pulled my shorts off releasing me from by prison. His hands explored my wet end cock and balls, his hands worked back round my buttocks and to my manhole. Both his hands eased my cheeks apart and his fingers teased round my very moist hole, finding a way in gently as I yielded to his touch, one finger, right in and teasing.

Suddenly he moved, in one clear movement he flipped me over and was on top of me lying with his cock down my crack and getting harder my the second. His end found its mark and with gentle thrusts, some spit for lubrication he managed to enter my hole, all the way, deep till his bush, feeling really sponge like and soft and cushion like pressed my buttocks - he had his length inside me.

He rode my ass like a genius, he satisfied my hole, his plump cock filling the cavity, his length perfect for my inner penetration, my body was filled with his pulsating fucking, steady, rhythmical and prolonged and yet with variations and changes to keep my ass occupied. My body ached with expectations, my cock hard and damp from continual pre cum excretion making a soaked wet place for my cocks and balls to slip and slide as he dove deeper into my eager expectant body.
He took his time and when he thought he might be about to climax his hands went under me and grasped my aching almost bursting cum soaked cock firmly with a fist like grip so I could hand fuck the hole he made holding his hands together.
He shot deep, as his cum emptied into me, this time it was in jagged urgent strokes, followed in quick time with my load spurting out and filling his hands He pushed deep and hard, held his position and shot, held it there till every drop had exited his cock end then slowly relaxed still mounted and I could feel his cock subside and lose its rigidity. My cock grasped in his two hands covered in sticky slimy scented spunk, I felt amazing satisfied and totally buggered.

Slowly he lifted from me, his cock slipped out from my aching hole, my body now sweat covered, as was his, at the same time his hands, covered in my juices, he rubbed this over his nipples, flipped me over onto my front again and then rubbed my spunk on my nipples till his hands were cum free. Using my silky shorts he rubbed round his genitals cleaning his cock and balls of any residue cum, then cleaned my shaft before wiping our nipples. Then he gave me my shorts.

Thanks he said, tuned over into his front, made himself comfortable in the sun.

I slipped into my now grubby soiled shorts, damp with man juices feeling the cum cool against my body, the fabric of my shorts cling to my naked flesh as I made my way back across the beach. I sat for a while, laid out and allowed the sun to dry my cummy stains shorts stiff before I made for my car.

When I got to the car and got in he was there already. We kissed and smiled

What a dirty fucker you are he said, pretending to be nice gentleman out for a walk who got carried away by needing to have his evil way with a nice young lad - and didn't you have an evil way?
Next time he added I want to be randy young lad who stumbles on a fully clothed guy and seduces him... next time.
And the engine started and we went home, fixed a meal and giggled at the adventure.

I knew from an early age that I may have been bigger than most. The fact I was circumcised because a doctor was worried that I might have a foreskin that would rip as I grew underscored that fact.

At first I hated being different - most UK kids were not "cut" here I was black in a mostly white Anglo Saxon World of Southern England but also with a circumcised cock that drew a lot of attention.

Fast forward to my University years - and this is an absolutely true story (but unsure where else to post it)

Friday night - a lot of beers drunk at "The Union" and a few of us walked back to the University Block. Richie (who at the time I didn't realise was gay as he always seemed to have girls in and out of his room) suddenly announces "Who is up for a "Cock-off"" 10 quid (quite a bit of money at the time) for the winner - place your bets" five of us were there and no one was going to shy away given that we had beers and pride!

"Yeah I am up for that I slurred"

Richie started to inch down his waist band to show a thin but seemingly impressively long cock (but didnt show it all) I did the same

The other three guys "folded" so it was down to us............................

Years later Richie and I reconnected on Facebook - one of my first comments was - "remember that night in Block 5 and the contest?" He said "No!"

He claimed to have no memory - so I reminded him that I slipped my pants down just far enough to win.

Now he is out he talked about other hung guys he met whilst at University (some of whom he sucked and fucked (and some of those I am sure were 100% straight)

In the end we had an on line challenge for old times sake - I still beat him on length and girth but man he did have an impressive cock (he has stayed a lot slimmer than me since Uni) and so kudos to him!

Anyway, just reporting

Cheers

Del

Amazon never told me why my gay MPREG incest novels violated community standards, but six months ago, one of my more salacious bits of prose got blocked. Somebody at Amazon decided that gay erotica was fine, even gay incest passed muster. But if the guy gets pregnant...we’ll perhaps that was too much. My book was blocked and still lives in Amazon jail.

Luckily, I don’t back down. Once I realized that Amazon would never tell me the reason they banned it, I simply tried again a few months later. I broke it into four novels instead of one. I bought cliche’ covers off of Fiverr instead of designing them myself. I renamed them from “Daddy’s Boy” to “Appalachian Bred”. I got rid of subtitles using racy terms like ‘Knocked Up’ or ‘Birthin’ Babies’. I toned down my descriptions and keywords. But I didn’t change a single word of the writing. Needless to say, all four books got accepted and are available on Kindle Unlimited, along with everything else “Peter Schutes” has published.

If you have Kindle Unlimited, check out Appalachian Bred on Amazon.

So, I decided to try my hand at erotic writing and this was what transpired. I'm really enjoying it so there'll be more coming soon. I'd like to thank my amateur editor @Ferdi.LT for helping me. Enjoy!

PART 1:

So there I sat on the upright table in the relatively spacious exam room, clad in the airy gown with nothing underneath, with my wife a few feet away in a wholly utilitarian chair. The nurse had been questioning me for a figurative minute or so at that point, verifying my particulars and confirming the history of my complaint. Said complaint was a recurrent, annoying pain in my lower abdomen that to that point no one could figure out. It obviously wasn’t typical, and we knew by that point via ultrasound and MRI that it wasn’t anything catastrophic, but gosh, I’d had my fill of it and wanted it solved. The urologist I’d previously seen found himself at a loss and in turn referred me to this more specialized one, whom was basically known as the “House” of the field in the immediate region.

“All that settled,” said the nurse, ”the first thing we’re going to do is get a sample.”

She was a very personable lady, I’d guess in her late 30s or maybe early 40s, who projected a very laid-back yet still professional attitude. Her mannerisms and expressions during the preceding discussion indicated she didn’t take things too seriously, so I felt like I could just say what I was thinking without her taking it the wrong way.

“OK. I’m well familiar with that by now. Just leave me the cup and point me to the bathroom. Uh, I just hope it’s close since I’m in this thing,” I replied, tugging at the shoulders of the gown.

“Oh, no, it’ll be in here. And it’s not a urine sample I’m talking about.”

“Hrmph?” I muttered, looking back at her quizzically.

“It’s a semen sample,” she replied with something of poker face, seemingly awaiting my reaction to that news.

“Ohhhhhhh,” I sang, pondering the ramifications of that. “Well, again, just leave me the cup…”

At this stage I’d pretty much momentarily forgotten my wife was in the room, so I didn’t bother checking her reaction to any of this.

“No,” said the nurse, trying to stifle a chuckle--you could tell she’s had this conversation before--”I’ll be extracting it. We have a process to insure it doesn’t get compromised prior to testing.”

OK, now I’m getting a little uneasy.

“Uh, you’re not going to stick a needle into me or something are you?”

“No, sir. We’ll be doing it the old-fashioned way.”

“Ahhh. Ohhh-kay.”

At this point, I become conscious of my wife’s presence again. I look over, and she’s just got a look on her face of, “Well, they’ve gotta do what they’ve gotta do.”

“Uh, so do you want to stay in here for this?” I ask. I wouldn’t call my wife naturally jealous, but I’m thinking the thought of another woman cranking my yank in some fashion might raise her possessive antennae and not be something she wants to hang around and watch.

“I’m good staying if you’re OK with it,” she says with a hint of a shrug.

“All right. It’s certainly not going to be anything you haven’t seen before.”

I quickly correct myself, adding, “I mean, aside from the whole ‘other person’ part.”

My fumbling though that thought caused the nurse to chuckle, though she made a valiant effort to hide it.

“So how do we do this?” I ask.

“Scoot up to the edge of the table and raise your gown while I get the kit,” replies the nurse.

I comply as she walks over to the nearby cabinet and removes a box about the size of an old VCR and sets it down on the small table next to the table I’m on. She pulls up a stool, right there in front of me and my dangling participle, and opens the box. I peek over and see various compartments inside it with a couple of tubes of who-knows-what, some things I don’t readily recognize, and what strikes me pretty obviously as some manner of Fleshlight-type cylinder.

The nurse pulls out one of the tubes, takes off the cap, then opens a packet of gloves and puts them on. Then using the back of one hand, squeezes some goo from the tube onto the palm of the other hand. As she rubs her hands together smearing the goop, she explains, “Now what I’m going to do to start off is manually stimulate you to an erection. You’ve already said you have no dysfunction in that regard, so just try to relax and let it happen.”

Holding back a giggle, I look toward my wife as the nurse begins stroking me. My wife looks back with a grin and cocks her head to one side, as if to say, “Well, here we go!”

The goop is pretty cold at first, and has an interesting texture. Not quite as thick as petroleum jelly or K-Y, but thicker than baby oil. It’s slick like Astroglide, but without the sticky undertone of Astroglide.

Quickly, my penis starts expanding from the nurse's touch.

“What is that stuff?” I ask, just trying to prod a conversation along to keep the mood light.

“It’s a special compound, again to ensure the sample isn’t chemically compromised. It’s silicon-based. Does it feel OK? It’s not burning or anything is it?”

“Oh, no. It’s fine. You don’t mind me talking during this, do you?”

“Whatever makes you comfortable. I’d honestly rather you talk than just stare at me blankly like some men do.”

My wang continuing to grow, I decide to continue the chat.

“About how many of these, er, procedures do you do in a day?”

“I probably average about 3 per week,”she replies, as she now stacks her hands on my manhood, baseball-bat-style, as I near full erection. The head poking out through the top hand on the downstroke eggs me on. I just love the visual of two hands on my cock and it not being enough to cover it. I look back over at my wife, who’s now wearing a sly, knowing grin, as if she’s proud to be showing me off.

“Let me know when you feel like you’re fully erect,”continues the nurse.

“OK. I’m not quite there yet, but it’s close. So what’s the training for this like? Do you hold an in-service at the Tokyo Spa?”

Yeah, that wasn’t as witty coming out of my mouth as it sounded in my head….

“You’d be surprised,” replies the nurse, raising her eyebrows and continuing her 2-fisted massage. Every now and then, she bends her hands slightly in opposite directions, I assume to judge my turgidity, which has now just about reached full bore.

I shift my gaze back to her hands. The sensations get a little more intense. I try to stay still, but my hips involuntarily start to squirm a bit.

“I think that’s it,” I dutifully report, “Maximum potential unless you really want to take me to the edge.”

“Oh, no, we’re just getting started. We don’t want to go that far yet. Just hold up your gown and stand up for me so I can take a measurement.”

“Oh, he’ll like that!” interjects my wife out of the blue.

“REALLY?!?!?” I reply, whipping my head around to glare at her in disbelief for contributing that piece of commentary.

“Well, he does enjoy it,” my wife retorts, directing her words at the nurse in her own defense.

“Well, she enjoys doing it,” I mutter, getting in the last word.

The nurse chuckles slightly, apparently entertained by the exchange.

“Well, you certainly have no reason to shy away from a ruler, I’ll say that much.”

With those words, suddenly my wife and I are back on the same side as we exchange a cheeky smile.

Measuring tape in hand, the nurse explains, “I just need to get one circumference measurement right here…” wrapping the tape around the base of my cock, snug up to my ballsack. The markings on the tape don’t look like conventional numbers, but I’m not sure. It might be some coded bullshit to maintain the measuree's dignity.

After taking the measurement, the nurse sets the tape back in the box and reaches into another of the compartments, flipping through a stack of small, flat plastic bags. When she pulls one out, I can finally make out that it has a ring inside. I try to peer over and investigate the stack a little more as she pulls the one from its bag.

“I’m going to now place this around the base of your penis. It’ll help maintain your erection and may even maximize the volume of your sample.” As she explains this and begins putting it on, I’m still looking over at the box.

“..and yes, this is the biggest one in the kit if you’re wondering.”

Busted! But with that confirmed, I look over at my wife again and jut my chin up in a silent, “How ‘bout that?” expression. She just smiles back.

“All right. Now just have a seat again. I’m going to change my gloves real quick.”

I’d never used a cock ring before, so it was kind of unsettling feeling the constriction, but my goodness, it was making every vein on my rod pop like the Incredible Hulk bursting through his clothes.

“OK,” the nurse resumed, “Now I’m going to place this cylinder over your penis...”

Aged 20, used to go to a Hardhouse club every weekend, small community of regulars and we all used to get on well and have a great time.
One lad, won’t reveal his name, Indian, 5ft 9, we got on well and used to chat a lot, discovered he was gay and one night we exchanged numbers. Later on that night, soon after kick out time I was on my way home and curiosity got the best of me so I text him and he invited me round.
We sat down and talked, then he took my hand and began kissing me, he was strong and forceful. I was only used to kissing and playing with women so it was a bit of a shock to me.
He stood me up and stripped me off, my tiny cute cock already excitedly erect! He pushed me onto my knees, took his trousers down revealing his big, dark, soft cock and pulled my head towards it. I eagerly began to suck and choked as it got much bigger and harder!
He told me he’d teach me how to suck him properly so led down on the sofa and I got on top and began my training.
I was so horny playing with this big dark cock, I kept giggling and comparing to mine. He found it amusing and said you like my big cock don’t you, I nodded with a big smile and carried on sucking and playing.
It seemed like hours before he had enough of my new found oral skills, and then told me to lie on my back, pushed my legs apart and lubed my virgin ass. He told me this might hurt a bit but he wanted to fuck me hard.....and he did! I must admit he brought water to my eyes but he did make things very enjoyable too and made me cum over and over.
We’ve played a lot over the years, he calls me his little fuck boy and loves how submissive and obedient I am

Part 1: Tokyo

Another city, another hotel room. After 15 years in the business, hosting his 4th travel TV show, Dean had seen too many hotels. And they all blurred together. Didn’t matter if you were in Madrid, Martinique, or Michigan — they were all the same, from the bland carpet to the scratchy comforters to the actually-not-bad bathroom lighting. The same room every time, with the same result: Dean sleeping alone.

Not that he never had company. A man like Dean could get some if he wanted. His chiseled TV-star face, his just-going-grey tousled hair. The arms bulging against the unbranded T-shirts that had inspired many a GIF to be shared by the gay corners of the internet. In fact, in certain cities Dean’s hotel room could have been better served with a revolving door installed.

Sometimes, he’d be interviewing a woman about the nightlife in her city or her unique business or whatever brought Dean and his camera crew to town, and he’d catch a look in her eyes. Always the same look. Unmistakable.

After the shoot, he’d only have to nudge his producer and director Kyle, who’d slip the woman Dean’s hotel room info. If that didn’t work — and he still wanted something more than a quick jerkoff — he’d usually find a prospect within minutes of walking into the hotel bar. Even in countries where no one recognized him, he had the kind of stature that turned heads of any gender, any sexuality.

The latest episode was set in Tokyo, the second time Dean had shot a show in the city. The first time was for his first series, Man About Town, most notable in Dean’s memory for its horrifically small budget. The producers hadn’t even given him his own room — the crew all bunked together in a hostel in Shibuya; four adult men sharing a dorm room with two random college boys who were backpacking their way across the country. Dean was in his late 20s then, so he didn’t mind it as much as he would now, but he still found it a bit unseemly. His first big job as the host of his very own travel show, and he couldn’t so much as jerk off without the whole crew knowing it.

So he was glad to be back in Japan, 15 years later, with a bigger show and the budget to match it. Sitting at the rooftop bar of his luxury hotel overlooking the flashing lights of the city below, Dean poured the rest of his Japanese whisky down his throat and lifted the empty glass to signal to the bartender for another. Next to him, his collaborator Kyle did the same. The two men had worked together for over a decade, and you could see their closeness in the way they carried themselves. But where Dean was dark, swarthy, and muscular — the consummate masculine TV presenter — Kyle was handsome in a different way: a little softer, a little nicer-looking. More approachable. His blonde, tousled, straight-from-Southern-California hair had miraculously escaped any bit of grey still, so despite the laugh-wrinkles around his eyes and the slight, relatively new paunch to his stomach, Kyle was often taken to be much younger than Dean.

“So far so good, huh?” Dean grunted.

“You’re killing it,” Kyle said. “But tomorrow’s the hardest day. Do I need to remind you to take it easy tonight?”

The bartender poured a finger of whisky into each empty glass. Dean tapped his finger against the rim and raised an eyebrow at the bartender, who tipped the bottle back down and doubled the pour. “I know, I know. The sumo bullshit tomorrow,” Dean muttered into his glass.

“You’ve gotta do it,” Kyle said. “All the other shows go to the tiny bars, the cat cafes, all that shit. But only one show has you, ass out for the cameras, wrestling a man twice your size. Something for the girls and the gays.”

“You know,” Dean said, rotating his body on the stool to face Kyle more directly, “Sometimes I wonder if you plan this shit for the ratings, or just for you.”

Kyle’s cheeks tinged red, and he paused to weigh possible responses, like testing the sharpness of the knives in a drawer. “If I wanted to get my rocks off to you, Dean, your dick pics aren’t hard to find.”

A single corner of Dean’s mouth raised, in either a smile or a grimace or both. “Low blow, my friend,” he said. “I come from a time before catfishing. How was I supposed to know the game has changed?”

Kyle was spared a further rehashing of the Dean Dick Pic Leak of 2017 by the entrance of a trim Japanese man in a suit and tie. Hair neatly slicked, tortoiseshell glasses. As he approached the men at the bar, Dean couldn’t help but notice his wedding ring. Dean gave Kyle a smirk. “The guy from the onsen? Really?”

“He looked good in a towel,” Kyle said, shrugging. “And his wife’s on vacation.”

“Your specialty,” Dean muttered. The man arrived at the bar, and Dean quickly slugged down the rest of his whisky. Standing up, he clapped his large hands on both men’s shoulders, growled a quick, “Oyasuminasai” — butchering the pronunciation, as he always did in every country, part of why his audience trusted him — and left the bar.



Less than 10 minutes later, Dean was on his hotel bed, phone in one hand, cock in the other. He stroked with his right hand, while his left thumb tapped between porn videos. His dick — cut, and so thick you noticed it no matter what kind of pants Dean had on — alternately swelled and slackened between its full 8 inches to a half-hard 6 as he distractedly tried to find a video he hadn’t seen before, one that could really get him going.

He hit play on a video — an old favorite, an amateur college girl getting fucked raw by her roommate’s boyfriend — and his cockhead swelled thick and round, the way it always got when he hadn’t cum in over 24 hours. He spit in his palm and slid his fist along his shaft, slowly, teasing himself, ready to enjoy it. The woman in the video moaned, and he worked his hand harder and faster, half-watching the video, half-watching himself. He loved looking down at his body, his abs flexing and unflexing as he thrust into his own hand.

The moaning in the video seemed to get louder and deeper, and Dean’s forearm flexed, the veins getting more pronounced, as he worked his cock with more intensity. He squeezed and released his ass, working his hips up and down, fucking his hand. Sweat beaded around his belly button.

“Ohhh fuck me,” he heard, through the wall, and his hand froze around his dick. He closed the video, put his phone down, and slid his ass backwards until he was sitting up against the headboard. He pressed his ear to the wall.

“Unnnhh, yes, fuck my hole, man.” Unmistakably Kyle.

Dean let out a quick, quiet laugh, but kept his ear pressed against the wall. He could make out a rhythmic creaking and, faintly, the sounds of breathing. Less than a foot away, separated by an inch-thick wall at most, his friend and longtime director was getting the hell pounded out of his ass.

Dean’s dick, still wrapped in his fingers, throbbed. The saliva had gone sticky, so he spit in his hand and, cautiously, as if not to alarm it, resumed stroking his cock. Kyle’s voice was strained, at a higher register than Dean had ever heard it, sounding almost, maybe, if you pretended, kind of like a woman. Dean gripped his dick tighter, and a drop of precum beaded at the tip.

Kyle’s moaning picked up on the other side of the wall, as if he knew he had an audience. “You like my hole?” he panted. “Fuck yes,” Dean heard the man grunt in reply.

Dean pressed his ear against the wall so hard it could have left a dent. He could hear the throbbing of his own heart, and, just barely, the sound of skin slapping against skin. A sound he knew well from fucking women around the globe, but now, he was aware, this was the sound of a man’s thighs pounding against the ass of another man. He stroked his cock up and down, matching the rhythm.

“Oh, fuck yeah, fuck me harder, dude, I’m getting close,” Kyle moaned, louder now, sounding as if his face were pressed against the wall, as if he were moaning right into Dean’s ear.

“Yes, yes, yes, cum in me!” Kyle shouted. Dean gripped his cock tighter, thrusting the head up and down through his palm, using the gobs of precum now pouring out as lube. His left hand, gripping the base of his shaft, started drifting lower, as if it had a mind of its own. Past his balls, until his fingertips rested against the tight knot he knew was his hole. Uncharted territory.

“Oh fuck, keep fucking me, I’m going to shoot,” Kyle moaned, in a tone Dean had never heard before. Hungry. “Fuck fuck fuck, here I fucking cum-ohhhh,” he said, devolving from words into pure moans.

“Fuuuck,” Dean grunted, thrusting harder into his fist, his balls tightening beneath his hand as a load of cum spurt from his dick onto his stomach. Cum sprayed in the air, huge loads splattering across Dean’s stomach, soaking the hair on his pecs. Some reached his mouth mid-moan. He grunted and shuddered as his orgasm continued, tasting the salt of his own cum, the fingertips of his left hand feeling his hole pulse with each shot.

As the last drops of cum flowed from his cock, dripping down over his fingers, he let out a final sigh of pleasure and sank deeper into the pillows. The room behind the wall had gone silent, and Dean soaked up the last rays of pleasure before the shame arrived, looking down at the hair on his chest and stomach matted and tangled with his sweat and cum.

Slowly, he got to his feet and made his way to the massive shower attached to his room. He stood beneath the water, lathering his body over and over again to get his body clean, to wash away the evidence of what had happened, to erase this particular orgasm from his personal history.

Dean stood in the shower, looking down along his body, watching the rivulets of water slide down his pecs, across his stomach, finally passing down the length of his cock, hanging heavy and still-swollen between his thighs, streaming off the tip of the pink head, and spiraling down the drain.