Any Man He Wants (mm)

Henry Irving

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Fredrick Holder is rich. I mean, ridiculously, he-couldn’t-possibly-spend-it-all-in-his-lifetime rich. He made his money in commercial real estate, I think. He ran a big corporation that is still named after him, but he retired really early and now he just lives on passive income streams that pour in faster than he can spend them.

He also happened to go to grade school with my mother. They don’t hang out a lot anymore, but they were best friends as kids and they still keep in touch. I met him once a few years ago at a big fundraiser that he invited my mother to, and I’ll never forget it. I was like nineteen at the time and Freddy (it feels weird to call him by his first name, but that’s how my mom always refers to him) was, like, 50? But he was insanely handsome and charismatic and confident, and he just commanded all the attention in the room. His hair has gone very salt-and-pepper and there are lines in his tanned and somewhat weathered face, but he’s still really fit, his easy smile is infectious, and his crystal blue eyes still sparkle like a young man. And even though we only spoke briefly that night, I felt like all his attention was on me. He made me feel special, important. And I’m not sure, but I think he was flirting with me. I sure didn’t mind, and I flirted back a little.

Oh yeah, he’s gay and he makes no secret of it, talking about it in the press and supporting lots of gay charities. Though I’ve never heard him mention a boyfriend or husband in interviews. Strange, he’s so rich and sexy I’m sure he could have any man he wants.

Well, a few years after I met Freddy, and after I graduated with an MFA from UCLA, I came up with an idea for a project. I’m a painter, and I know a ton of really talented artists of different disciplines, lots of them gay guys. A group of us were hanging out one night, thinking about life after school and ways to generate and share our work, and someone suggested the idea of a gay artists’ collective. Several hours and a couple cases of beer later, that idea had blossomed into a gay arts center. The idea was to get a building and trick it out so it would have gallery spaces, studio spaces, and a performance space. Plus, a staff that could run it. It could become a mecca for gay artists throughout Southern California and might eventually grow to include classes and community events, and scholarships for gay artists from underserved communities.

By the time I woke up the next morning, a little hungover and in the cold light of day, our grandiose idea seemed completely delusional. I told my mom about it over coffee, a little embarrassed and sure that she would think it was a naïve dream.

Instead, she said, “What a great idea, honey!”

I protested, sharing all my reservations about how expensive it would be, and how little we know about how to do a project on this scale. In mid-conversation she picked up her phone. While I’m still talking, she dials, and a few seconds later she holds up her hand to hush me and says, “Hi. Is Freddy in? It’s Chelsea Mahaffy.”

My eyes bulging, I whispered to her, “Mom! What are you doing?!?”

She shushed me as she said, brightly, “Hi Freddy! How are you doing, hon?”

There was a brief moment while my mom listened, then she broke out in a big, mischievous laugh, and said, “Sounds like heaven! Hey, listen, do you remember meeting my son Paul a few years ago at your fundraiser for the LGBT Center?”

Another pause, another little laugh. “That’s right, the handsome ginger painter.” She looked at me with a smile and winked.

“Well, I’ve got a favor to ask. He’s got a great idea for a project and I wonder if you’d be willing to meet with him.”

(to be continued)
 

Henry Irving

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The meeting was arranged for two weeks later, so I had to scramble to get ready. I needed to make the idea more concrete and assemble materials to share with Freddy.

First, I wrote a narrative that described the vision and the scope of the project. Then, with the help of an ex who was a business major, we put together a cursory business plan. But the thing that was going to sell the idea was the artists and the art, so I had to put together a portfolio for Freddy.

A couple of the artists in our group work in abstract forms, so the fact that they’re created by gay artists is less apparent. But several of us work in figurative art and many of our subjects are male figures. Even in a field as liberal and open-minded as the art world, there’s still a surprising double standard. Female nudes are ubiquitous in art, but lots of people are uncomfortable with male nudes. Galleries often refuse to show them, and collectors are frequently hesitant to purchase them. That’s one of the reasons we felt that our gay arts center was so important.

But I know that Frederick Holder owns a David Hockney nude (I read it in an interview somewhere), so I didn’t feel like I had to edit the content for him.

I work in oils, and my style is hyperrealism. I do very detailed portraiture, mostly of male subjects. I decided to include two of my works, one a closeup of two men kissing, cropped very close so you can see the details of the stubble, the moisture on the lips, the saliva on the tongues touching. The other is the torso of a beautiful Korean boy who I dated briefly, lean and muscular, with a small tattoo on his pec that says “I'm much more me when I'm with you” in Korean. Both very sensual, but not too explicit.

My friend Jamar is a sculptor who does male nudes in a highly reflective metal alloy that are contemporary takes on classical subjects. One that I included was his version of a Greek Kouros, inspired by a beautiful male model who is an amputee with a prosthetic leg. The other is his riff on a Satyr and depicts a lean, muscular man with an exaggerated, oversized erection.

Another artist in the group, Kenjo, does what he describes as a mash-up of manga with Tom of Finland, painted on large canvases in acrylic. The style is colorful and playful, the subjects highly sexualized. I select two of his works, one a pair of wrestlers sexually entangled, the other a nude man bound to a table with ropes.

Where it got tricky was my buddy Skylar, who is a photographer. Like a lot of young artists, Skylar often photographed his friends. One is a picture of a classmate of ours who is a beautiful, muscular Latino man. The photo shows him in profile and mostly silhouette against a vast desert sky, with an engorged cock. The other is me.

We did a session of nudes, and it produced some of his most beautiful images. The one Skylar wanted to include was a picture of my torso that crops off my face at the chin and shows the base of my dick. What nobody knows except Skyler and me is that my dick was totally hard, because Skyler was sucking on it just a few seconds before he took the shot. I like the picture. The lighting is gorgeous, and my body looks damn good. I’ve spent quite a bit of time in the gym and the work has paid off. There’s just enough cock showing to make it sexy without being too explicit. I’m proud of it.

I looked at the photograph carefully to try and decide if Freddy could possibly recognize that it was me. He’s obviously never seen my body, and I don’t think my chin is distinctive enough to give it away. The photo is in black and white so I’m not sure he can identify that the subject is a ginger with light reddish-blonde hairs, though I do have the tell-tale fair skin with scattered freckles. And then there’s the name of the work. He has titled it “Paul.” But there are lots of Pauls, right? I decided to go ahead and include it.

The night before our meeting, I stayed up most of the night finishing up the portfolio, reordering the images, finishing up the accompanying text. Before I go to sleep, I take one final look through it. Boy, I have some talented friends. And a lot of these images are super sexy. I jerk off thinking about the sensual artworks, and Frederick Holder, my hot potential benefactor, before falling asleep.

(to be continued)
 

Henry Irving

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PART THREE

My meeting with Freddy was to be at his house on Mulholland Drive at 11 am. I barely slept the night before, got up early, worked out at the gym, showered, and shaved.

Before dressing I looked at myself naked in front of the mirror. I feel confident in the way I look. I’ve certainly matured a lot in the past few years since I first met Freddy. Back then I was a kid, not quite skinny but very lean. Now I’m pretty muscular, and 23. I’m about 5’11”, I have broad shoulders, big pecs, a narrow waist, muscular legs, and a nice ass. I have pale, fair skin, a dusting of hair on my chest, and a treasure trail that leads to a big, thick uncut cock. My red hair and freckles make my face look boyish, but the rest of me is all man. Staring at myself in the mirror, my cock began to swell. But no time to do anything about it now. It was time to get dressed.

I really wasn’t sure what to wear for a business meeting with a billionaire. Obviously not my usual t-shirt and shorts, but I think a suit and tie would be too much. I finally settle on chinos with a nice polo, some leather loafers, and a sport coat. One final mirror check. Nice. Professional, but my clothes still show off my body.

I grab the portfolio and head for the address his assistant had sent me. I drove the windy path of Mulholland Drive as the addresses got closer. And as I neared my destination, the houses also got bigger. Finally, I arrived at the address, guarded by a majestic gate with a call box.

“Paul Mahaffy to see Frederick Holder.”

The gate began to silently glide open, and I drove onto the property. The driveway continued much longer than I anticipated, passing through beautifully maintained trees that hid the house from the street. Then the trees cleared, and in front of me was a big courtyard with a fountain and circular driveway, and an enormous house. It was in an elegant Mediterranean style, classic but not fussy. There was a squared-off area that looked like it was meant for parking, so I pulled in there and walked to the front door.

The door was massive, maybe fifteen feet high. I rang the doorbell and waited. Standing in front of this gigantic mansion, I felt very small. And insecure. What have I gotten myself into? The door swung open effortlessly and I was greeted by a handsome young man, about my age. He smiled and said, “Hi, I’m Matteo. Welcome. Follow me. Mr. Holder is in back.”

The entryway was bigger than our entire house, with staircases flanking it on both sides. Beyond the entryway was the enormous living room, elegantly furnished with tasteful, overscaled furniture, modern but warm and stylish. The back wall of the living room was almost entirely windows, ceiling to floor, which looked out over the huge backyard. I followed Matteo, who led me into a garden that looked as big as a public park. Directly in front of me, there was an enormous, black-bottomed pool surrounded by travertine tiles, outdoor umbrellas, and elegant patio furniture. In the distance, a canyon overlooked a spectacular view of the Los Angeles basin. And in between, clear at the other side of the enormous pool and facing away from me, a chaise with a figure on it. Obviously, Mr. Holder.

“Wait here,” Matteo said as he made the long trek to the man on the chaise. When he got there, he leaned over to speak to him. Mr. Holder stood up and I realized that he had been sunbathing nude. His tanned body looked amazing, as far as I could make out from this distance, and he turned slowly toward me. He smiled and casually waved, facing me unashamedly. I couldn’t help but stare, struggling to make out the details of his beautiful body and cock before Matteo retrieved his robe, which he finally slipped on to cover his nakedness.

It took what seemed like forever for him to walk to me, and as he did my mind was flooded with thoughts. Did I have the wrong time or date? Should I acknowledge that I saw him naked? I didn’t really know how to handle this. But I was aware that, despite the awkwardness of the situation, my cock was swelling in my chinos.

As he got closer, I could better see the welcoming smile and beautiful blue eyes that had captivated me when we first met, and his heavy cock swung as he walked, beating against the thin fabric of his robe. I didn’t want to look like I was checking him out, but he didn’t seem to have any hesitation as his eyes wandered up and down my body and then held my eyes in his stare.

As he got closer, maybe twenty feet away, he began to speak to me.

“If it wasn’t for the red hair, I’m not sure I would have recognized you. You’ve grown into manhood nicely.”

I was flattered by the compliment and blushed a little. He stuck out his hand, and I extended mine to return the handshake. His grip was firm, his hand was warm, and I felt almost an electric shock go through my body. Rather than release my hand after a few moments, as one usually does, he continued to grasp my hand and he pulled his body even closer to mine. I looked up to his smiling eyes, so cool and pale compared to his dark complexion and his nearly black hair, shot through with gray. It felt very intimate, and my dick got even harder.

“How nice to see you, Paul.”

“Thank you, Mr. Holder.”

He chuckled. “Oh please, call me Freddy.”

I blushed again. The curse of the ginger. “Thanks, Freddy.”

(to be continued)
 

Henry Irving

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PART FOUR

Freddy invited me to join him on a shaded terrace where another handsome young man served us iced coffee, pastries, and fresh berries. In fact, everywhere I turned there was another sexy guy in his 20s or 30s, each one more beautiful than the next. Most of them were wearing some variation on chinos and polo shirts. Great. I had unknowingly dressed like “the help.”

I had emailed Freddy the basic pitch (the narrative and the business plan) in advance so he already knew what I was here to talk with him about. He seemed genuinely interested in the project, asking smart questions and talking enthusiastically about the need to support gay artists. At one point Matteo came out, apologized for interrupting, and whispered something to Freddy. Freddy smiled and nodded to him, and we continued our conversation.

As we talked, Freddy draped himself casually in his chair, which caused his robe to do all sorts of distracting things. At one point it opened up quite a bit at the top, exposing a large expanse of his chest including the entire right pec and nipple. His body was amazing for someone who was 53 years old (I had googled his age, the same age as my mother). Scratch that. His body would be amazing for someone my age. His muscles were lean and defined, and his bronzed skin was taut and supple. He was moderately hairy and his chest, like his head, was sprinkled with grey hairs, which only made him sexier. His nipple was slightly distended, and I imagined that he enjoys having someone play with it.

As we talked, I saw another young man, tall with long, lean muscles, walk naked from the house to a stretch of lawn beside the pool where he laid out a mat and began practicing yoga. Was this Freddy’s lover? A one-night stand? A friend or roommate? I tried not to be distracted by it, but it was pretty difficult. People are obviously not terribly modest around here.

Freddy then shifted again until one of his legs was fully exposed, all the way up to the hip. I couldn’t make out his cock in the shadowy area beneath the robe, but it looked like the slightest move would expose it. I tried not to stare but I was kind of hypnotized.

Freddy shook me out of my trance, sitting upright and saying “So, can I see some of the artwork?”

I began to take him on a tour through the portfolio. I was relieved that Freddy seemed genuinely enthusiastic about the work I showed him, asking with great curiosity about the artists and their work. When he got to the images of Jamar’s sculptures, I saw Freddy casually tug on his dick through the fabric of the robe, and it began to fill out a little. He clearly was interested in the sculptures as he asked about Jamar, the dimensions of the pieces, and the models that inspired them.

As he turned to Skyler’s photographs, I held my breath. Freddy seemed transfixed by the images. He looked carefully, for a long time, at the photograph of my torso, then up at me. Our eyes connected, and I immediately looked away. He looked back down at the photograph and I could see that his cock was distinctly rising beneath the robe. He looked up again and smiled.

“This is you, isn’t it?”

I hesitated for a moment, wondering how to respond, but my blush had already given me away. “Yeah, that’s me,” I said timidly.

“No need to be embarrassed. You look hot.” He smiled and winked, adjusting his cock, then immediately turned the page, letting me off the hook.

As he got to my paintings, he lit up. He was fascinated by the techniques I used, the subjects, the feelings they evoked. As we excitedly discussed my work, Matteo approached again.

“Excuse me, sir, but the masseurs are here.”

“Shit. Is it noon already?”

I jumped in right away, “I’m sorry, I think I’ve taken up too much of your time, Freddy. I can go…”

“Not at all,” he assured me, “Please stay. Maybe we can set up out here on the terrace, Matteo?”

“Of course,” he answered and went back into the house.

“It’s one of my favorite indulgences,” Freddy said slyly. “I don’t have many vices, but a good massage is one of them. Would you like to join me?”

My mind scrambled to craft the appropriate response. “Oh, I don’t want to intrude…”

My voice trailed out as I saw Matteo leading a group of four gorgeous young masseurs, massage tables in hand, from the house.

This was going to be an unusual afternoon.

(to be continued)
 

hevyballs

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PART FOUR

Freddy invited me to join him on a shaded terrace where another handsome young man served us iced coffee, pastries, and fresh berries. In fact, everywhere I turned there was another sexy guy in his 20s or 30s, each one more beautiful than the next. Most of them were wearing some variation on chinos and polo shirts. Great. I had unknowingly dressed like “the help.”

I had emailed Freddy the basic pitch (the narrative and the business plan) in advance so he already knew what I was here to talk with him about. He seemed genuinely interested in the project, asking smart questions and talking enthusiastically about the need to support gay artists. At one point Matteo came out, apologized for interrupting, and whispered something to Freddy. Freddy smiled and nodded to him, and we continued our conversation.

As we talked, Freddy draped himself casually in his chair, which caused his robe to do all sorts of distracting things. At one point it opened up quite a bit at the top, exposing a large expanse of his chest including the entire right pec and nipple. His body was amazing for someone who was 53 years old (I had googled his age, the same age as my mother). Scratch that. His body would be amazing for someone my age. His muscles were lean and defined, and his bronzed skin was taut and supple. He was moderately hairy and his chest, like his head, was sprinkled with grey hairs, which only made him sexier. His nipple was slightly distended, and I imagined that he enjoys having someone play with it.

As we talked, I saw another young man, tall with long, lean muscles, walk naked from the house to a stretch of lawn beside the pool where he laid out a mat and began practicing yoga. Was this Freddy’s lover? A one-night stand? A friend or roommate? I tried not to be distracted by it, but it was pretty difficult. People are obviously not terribly modest around here.

Freddy then shifted again until one of his legs was fully exposed, all the way up to the hip. I couldn’t make out his cock in the shadowy area beneath the robe, but it looked like the slightest move would expose it. I tried not to stare but I was kind of hypnotized.

Freddy shook me out of my trance, sitting upright and saying “So, can I see some of the artwork?”

I began to take him on a tour through the portfolio. I was relieved that Freddy seemed genuinely enthusiastic about the work I showed him, asking with great curiosity about the artists and their work. When he got to the images of Jamar’s sculptures, I saw Freddy casually tug on his dick through the fabric of the robe, and it began to fill out a little. He clearly was interested in the sculptures as he asked about Jamar, the dimensions of the pieces, and the models that inspired them.

As he turned to Skyler’s photographs, I held my breath. Freddy seemed transfixed by the images. He looked carefully, for a long time, at the photograph of my torso, then up at me. Our eyes connected, and I immediately looked away. He looked back down at the photograph and I could see that his cock was distinctly rising beneath the robe. He looked up again and smiled.

“This is you, isn’t it?”

I hesitated for a moment, wondering how to respond, but my blush had already given me away. “Yeah, that’s me,” I said timidly.

“No need to be embarrassed. You look hot.” He smiled and winked, adjusting his cock, then immediately turned the page, letting me off the hook.

As he got to my paintings, he lit up. He was fascinated by the techniques I used, the subjects, the feelings they evoked. As we excitedly discussed my work, Matteo approached again.

“Excuse me, sir, but the masseurs are here.”

“Shit. Is it noon already?”

I jumped in right away, “I’m sorry, I think I’ve taken up too much of your time, Freddy. I can go…”

“Not at all,” he assured me, “Please stay. Maybe we can set up out here on the terrace, Matteo?”

“Of course,” he answered and went back into the house.

“It’s one of my favorite indulgences,” Freddy said slyly. “I don’t have many vices, but a good massage is one of them. Would you like to join me?”

My mind scrambled to craft the appropriate response. “Oh, I don’t want to intrude…”

My voice trailed out as I saw Matteo leading a group of four gorgeous young masseurs, massage tables in hand, from the house.

This was going to be an unusual afternoon.

(to be continued)
Great story, can’t for next instalment
 

Henry Irving

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PART FIVE

Freddy turned to welcome the young men, and he and Matteo instructed them to set up two massage tables on the terrace. As they worked, Freddy turned back to me and explained, “I always have them send me a few options, so I can pick a masseur as the mood strikes me.” Must be nice to have that kind of money to throw away.

When they were done setting up, the four men stood in a row awaiting instructions. They were all in identical uniforms: a white t-shirt, lightweight white cotton drawstring pants, and sandals. And they were all spectacularly handsome. There was a slender, boyish-looking guy with shaggy blonde hair, a pretty face with pouty lips, and golden tanned skin. There was an enormous muscle dude, tall and oozing testosterone, with a shaved head, a hairy body, and several visible tattoos. There was a beautiful Asian guy, a little shorter with a very muscular body, big, meaty pecs, and refined features. And finally, there was a beautiful darker skinned guy, probably Italian or Brazilian or something, who had an amazing build with wide shoulders, big pecs, an impossibly narrow waist, a beautiful round ass, and what seemed to be a huge cock snaking down his pants leg.

Freddy turned to me and said, “Guests first. Anyone interest you?”

They were all gorgeous. I had my preference of course, but I just felt weird making this choice. What if I picked the one Freddy wanted? What if I insulted somebody by not picking them?

“Whichever…” I mumbled, attempting to dodge the question.

“Okay, I’d be glad to make a selection for you, Paul.” He seemed to be enjoying my discomfort.

He walked down the row, stopping to speak to each one.

“Nice to see you, Cooper,” he said to the pretty blonde one, giving him a quick kiss on those pretty lips.

He stepped up to the next one. “Holy shit, Milo, you’re looking jacked,” he said giving a bicep a squeeze. “Thank you, sir. I have a competition next week.” “Good luck,” he said, shooting him a smile as he moved on.

“I don’t think I’ve met you before,” he said to the Asian one. “No sir, I’m Hiro.” Freddy stepped behind the man, grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt, pulled it over his head, and tossed it aside. Hiro’s chest was just magnificent. Freddy ran his hands over his shoulders, reached around his waist, and ran his hands up his abs to the pecs where he playfully pinched his nipples. Hiro smiled and moaned a little, leaning his head back against Freddy, and I could see his dick swell against the light cotton pants. The uniform clearly didn't include underwear. One of Freddy’s hands roamed back down the torso, slipping under the waistband of the pants and grabbing onto Hiro’s cock while pinching a nipple with his other hand. Hiro laughed a little, clearly enjoying both the sensation and this public display of attention.

I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. It was so hot but so incongruous to what I had anticipated coming here to pitch a business venture. I was completely out of my element and had no idea how I should behave. But I was sure enjoying it!

Finally, he stepped up to the last one, the one I thought was the most spectacular. “Hello, beautiful Antonio.” Freddy stepped right up to the gorgeous man and they leaned in toward each other as they whispered back and forth. Freddy glanced back toward me, and Antonio looked directly at me, smiling. I held my breath. They whispered again and laughed together.

Freddy turned to me and said, “I think you need to give Antonio a try.” Antonio locked eyes with me again, smiling. I smiled back, and my heart was racing like crazy. “And since I believe that variety is the spice of life, I’d like to take Hiro for a spin.” Hiro seemed happy about this choice, too.

While Matteo ushered the other two masseurs into the house, I watched Freddy slip off his robe and lie on his stomach on the massage table, discarding the modesty towel. As he did so, I was able to take a good look at his heavy cock, circumcised and engorged. As he lay down, I could see that he deliberately positioned his cock so that it pointed down, between his legs.

Antonio walked over to me and, with a beautiful accent that I still couldn’t place, said, “May I help you disrobe?” I muttered something incoherent and began to remove my sport coat. As I looked around for a place to put it, Antonio took it from me and placed it on a nearby chair. I kicked off my loafers as Antonio came back around, facing me. He untucked my polo shirt and lifted it over my head. He smiled at me again as he admired my body. It was very intimate, and I felt totally exposed. He folded the shirt and placed it with the coat. While he did so, I began to undo my belt and unzip my pants, wondering whether or not I should remove my boxer briefs as well. Before I could make that decision, Antonio stepped back in front of me, kneeling at my feet, and pulled my underwear down. He helped me step out of my pants, my underwear, and my socks as I held onto his broad shoulders for support. I was keenly aware that this gorgeous man was just inches away from my cock, which was now swelling and beginning to lift up into an erection. Antonio had to have noticed but he simply gathered my clothing and placed them with the others.

As I tried to rush to the table to hide my erection, I saw that Freddy had lifted his head from the cradle and was watching me the whole time. He smiled as he saw my hard-on and placed his face back in the cradle. I lay face down, my hard cock against my stomach, and attempted to arrange the modesty towel over my ass.

I lay there with my mind racing, wondering what was going to happen next.

(to be continued)
 

Henry Irving

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PART SIX

I sensed Antonio’s presence near me before anything else, then I felt the warm touch of his hand on my shoulder as he leaned next to my ear and said quietly, with that sexy accent, “Would you like me to remove my shirt?” Hell yes, I wanted him to remove his shirt, but I replied more equivocally, “Um, if you want to.” I heard the faint sound of the fabric pulling over his body and the shirt being cast aside.

I’d had a few massages before. I even had a massage with a happy ending. And I’d had sex plenty of times. But I had never done any of those things during a business meeting, with a potential investor (who I also wanted to fuck me) just a few feet away. It was all just surreal.

I heard the sound of Antonio’s hands rubbing together as he warmed the oil. From the hole in the face cradle, my view was very limited, but soon his feet, still in his sandals and cotton pants, were visible as he stepped to the head of the table and began to massage my shoulders.

The feel of his powerful hands was amazing. My shoulders and back began to relax right away as he applied his strong strokes to my shoulders and to my back. I guess I really needed this, between the extra workouts I’ve been doing lately and the tension I was feeling in anticipation of this meeting. He worked deep and it occasionally hurt a little, but it was a good pain. He alternated working specific muscles with long, relaxing strokes that ran the length of my back, his fingers slipping under the edge of the modesty towel to get the top of my ass. I thought maybe my hard-on would subside after the massage began, but it only got harder. As I was trying to will it to go down, I heard Freddy’s voice.

“How you doing over there?”

“Good. Feels amazing,” I mumbled.

“Yeah, Antonio is a God.” I could tell from the sound of Freddy’s voice that his face was no longer in the cradle.

“So, I was thinking about what kind of building you’d need, and it occurred to me…” Freddy kept talking about the gay arts center project and a building he already owned that might work out as a location, so I guess we were supposed to continue the meeting while getting our massages. I turned my head in the cradle to engage him in the conversation, which gave me the chance to enjoy the view as well.

Freddy was still on his stomach but had turned his head to face me. Hiro was still shirtless, and also still had a hard-on that made an outrageous tent in the front of his drawstring pants. He was now working on Freddy’s lower back and muscular ass.

We continued discussing the project while we got our massages, as though this was a normal thing to do. Hiro was vigorously kneading Freddy’s glutes, his fingers slipping periodically between the ass cheeks, and Freddy occasionally lifted his hips a little to give him better access. Meanwhile, Antonio had also been working his way toward my ass, and I suddenly felt the cool air as he peeled back the modesty towel so he could work it without obstacle. I watched Hiro open Freddy’s legs wider and he began oiling up the insides of his thighs.

“I’ll check with my project manager on Monday,” Freddy continued, “but I’d bet the Cahuenga building has enough square footage, and it’s certainly a good location with its… ohh…. ohhhhhhh…”

Freddy had stopped speaking but continued making moaning sounds, and I realized that Hiro had taken Freddy’s cock in his hand and had begun stroking it. Occasionally he lifted it up so that I could see it above the profile of Freddy’s leg. It was rock-hard and enormous.

“Sorry,” Freddy chuckled, “I’m a little distracted.”

He no longer attempted to carry on a conversation, but just stopped to enjoy what was happening. As I watched in fascination while Freddy got a hand job, I suddenly felt the cotton of Antonio’s lightweight pants against my fingers, and then the enormous cock that was swelling inside it, which he had carefully placed in my hand. I let my hand roam the length of the cock, which seemed like it extended down to his knees. As I continued fondling Antonio, I watched Hiro slip off his sandals and pants and crawl naked onto the table, kneeling in the space between Freddy’s legs. Then he leaned over and took Freddy’s cock into his mouth. Freddy started moaning louder.

At the same time, Antonio slipped out of his pants and put his naked cock back into the palm of my hand. I looked at it as it lay there, the biggest and most beautiful cock I had ever seen. While his dick seemed like it was already totally hard, I felt it continue to swell in my hand, and watched the head of it continued crawling out from under the foreskin as it got harder and harder.

I looked up at Antonio’s beautiful face and he smiled back at me.

(to be continued)
 

Henry Irving

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PART SEVEN

As I held Antonio’s cock, I looked up to admire him in all his glory. I had been face-down when he removed his shirt, but now I could appreciate the entirety of this Man/God. His glistening skin was absolutely smooth and a beautiful golden bronze color, which seemed to be the result of a combination of sun and genetics. He had a modest sprinkling of dark hair at the base of his cock, and almost no other body hair I could see except a bit peeking out from his armpits. From my angle looking up at him, with the most spectacular cock I had ever seen so prominent in the foreground, he looked like a superhero from my erotic fantasies, with his narrow waist and his huge pecs, shoulders, and arms, and an angelic face framed by a mane of curly black hair. I started jerking his cock, at first slowly then more vigorously.

“Slow down, baby,” he said to me quietly. “Let’s take our time and enjoy this.” That sounded good to me.

I let go of his cock as the feather touch of his hands began to dance over me teasingly, making my entire body tingle. He moved to the foot of the massage table and I heard it groan as he began to crawl onto it, then I felt his huge cock slide between my ass cheeks as he slowly lowered his weight on top of my body. After undulating his whole body a few times, and teasing my ass with his dick, he whispered, “Is this okay?” “Oh yeah,” I answered, hoping he’d continue.

But instead, he sat up on his knees, straddling my ass, and playfully slapped his huge, heavy cock against my hole, sliding it sensually between my legs, then dropping it again between my ass cheeks before going back to massaging my back with long, strong strokes, slowing things down a little like he promised. While the massage techniques he was using at the moment weren’t particularly sensual, the weight of his gigantic cock on my ass, as well as my own hard cock pressing against my stomach, kept the sexual tension high.

I took this opportunity to turn my head and see what was happening over on Freddy’s table. Freddy had maneuvered himself so that he was sitting upright on the table, with Hiro sitting between his legs, leaning back against his chest. Hiro’s shorter, beefier, hairless, and youthful body contrasted beautifully with Freddy’s taller, leaner, hairy, and mature body. With one hand, Freddy was toying with Hiro’s pretty, uncircumcised cock, which curved upwards toward his chest. With the other, he was mauling his beefy pec. Hiro had turned his head back so the two of them could kiss passionately, their tongues sparring as they darted in and out of each other’s mouths and intertwined. Freddy then lifted his hands and inserted both thumbs into Hiro’s mouth, who sucked on them sensually while Freddy slid them in and out. Freddy then removed the moist thumbs and reached around to begin playing with Hiro’s nipples, first encircling them sensually, then pinching them with increasing pressure. Hiro’s nipples were obviously hotwired to his dick, which began bouncing as a steady stream of precum started leaking from the head down to the table. He arched his back and moaned as he rested his head back against Freddy’s shoulder. Freddy caught me watching them, smiled, and said, “Enjoying the show?”

We both laughed. By now I knew not to look away with embarrassment but just give in and enjoy it.

As though putting on a show for my benefit, Freddy swung his leg around, swiftly moved to the foot of the table, took Hiro by the ankles, and lifted his muscular legs to expose his beautiful, round ass. Like a hungry animal, Freddy dove into his asshole, licking and kissing it, penetrating it with his tongue, and Hiro whimpered with pleasure. I watched jealously, wishing that it was my ass that Freddy was working so expertly. Antonio must have read my mind, because the next thing I knew he had crawled off the table, lifted my hips so I was on my knees with my ass in the air, and had begun working my hole. Watching the show on the other table while feeling the sensation of Antonio’s skillful mouth, I drifted into the fantasy that it was my hole that Freddy was pleasuring.

Then Freddy pulled Hiro to the edge of the table, slapped his big cock against his ass, turned to me with a smile, and in one thrust buried the entire length of his cock into Hiro’s hungry hole. Hiro cried out with another whimper, but his obvious pleasure was quickly confirmed as he began thrusting his hips back and forth, working Freddy’s cock with each lunge of his muscle ass.

While I watched Freddy and Hiro find their rhythm, I sensed Antonio’s weight again on the table, and his body pressed against my back. I felt his hot breath near my ear, and he whispered, “I want to fuck you so bad, baby. Is that okay?”

All I could manage to get out was a little affirmative, “Mmmm hmmm…” I then felt the enormous head of his cock press against my asshole, and I waited with a combination of fear and excitement for what was to come next.

(to be continued)
 

Henry Irving

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PART EIGHT

I’m an insatiable bottom, so I don’t usually hesitate when I see a big dick. But Antonio’s was on a whole other level.

“Be gentle with that big cock,” I whispered. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you feel great.” I loved the way he called me baby with his sexy accent.

I felt the head of his cock begin to push against me, and I took a deep breath as I willed my asshole to relax. True to his word, Antonio took it easy, and he was right, it felt great. The head of his cock slipped inside my asshole and he stopped there a moment to let me adjust. As he did, his mouth next to my ear, he whispered, “Oh baby, you feel so good. I love being inside your hot ass.” And with that my ass attempted to swallow his cock whole. I felt it slowly glide into me deeper, stretching me out and filling me up.

There was a moment when, honestly, I thought it was just too big and I wouldn’t be able to take it all. As he pushed slowly and steadily inside me, it felt like his cock was clear up in my chest. Then he said, “Oh my God, you’re amazing,” and something like a combination of being comforted by his voice and proud of my bottoming skills allowed me to relax even more. Our bodies became one, combined like some mythological beast. “Fuck me, Antonio” I whispered.

Antonio began rocking his body against mine, slowly thrusting in and out. Each time he did this my own cock pulsed with pleasure. For what seemed like a long time, I was aware only of our bodies moving in harmony and the exquisite pleasure I was feeling.

My reverie was broken as I heard Hiro squeal, “Oh yes. Yes, Daddy, fuck me harder.” I looked over to Freddy’s table to see him pounding Hiro’s muscle ass with abandon. He was pulling his cock out almost to the head, then slamming it back in with a forceful thrust. Freddy looked like a satyr, with his mischievous smile, his hairy, ripped body, and his big, curved dick hammering away at the muscle boy who whimpered with pleasure. As Hiro’s cries began to get louder, I was sure that everyone in the house could hear him, but Freddy didn’t seem to care. He kept fucking him as he leaned in to kiss him, muffling Hiro’s moans for the moment.

Meanwhile, Antonio began picking up the pace and fucking me harder. I heard the smack of his body against my ass each time he drilled into me, and soon I began feeling his balls as they slapped against my own. I started rocking my body to meet his rhythm, welcome his cock each time it pushed back inside of me. My own cock felt like it could explode any moment, so I reached to grab it and complete the job. But Antonio took my hand, pulled it against my chest, and slowed the rhythm of his fucking as he said, “Let’s slow it down a little, baby.”

Then with tremendous agility and his cock still buried deep in my ass, he flipped me around, so I was on my back staring up at this magnificent man. He held my ankles in the air and smiled back at me as he said, “I love fucking you, you sexy man.” Then he began to lean in, his face slowly getting closer to mine. As I was able to see it close up, his beauty began to make my heart race. I could see the dark stubble on his chin, the impossibly long black eyelashes that framed his hazel eyes with flecks of gold, and the full, luscious lips that slowly came to meet mine with a kiss.

(to be continued)