Monthly Archives: September 2006

The Deal

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“Are you sure it’s on? I can’t see the little red light.”

“I’m sure.” I peered at Dan’s hazy, naked form through the video camera’s viewfinder. Slowly, the lens auto-focused on his lean, pale body, crystallizing his image to perfect clarity. “Oh yeah. It’s on,” I slurred as I zoomed in on the half-hard tube of flesh lying against the inside of his left thigh.

Dan adjusted his position on the bed, raising his upper body up on his elbows while curling his feet and toes into my thick, fluffy, golden brown down comforter. “I’m nervous,” he admitted sheepishly, biting at his lower lip and casting his eyes to the side.

“Don’t be,” I hushed him. “No one is going to see this but me and you. Come on, we talked about this.” I looked up from behind the camera to meet his eyes with my own. “You promised.”

And Dan had promised. If I took two weeks off from work this summer so that the two of us could go on an Alaskan cruise, then he would let me make the sex tape I’d been bugging him about for the last year and a half. I had held up my end of the deal. We spent the second half of August soaking up the sights and sounds of the great white north from the comfort of a luxury cruise liner. Now we were home. My Sony digicam was in hand. The curtains were drawn and the candles were lit. And I had Dan, nude, on the bed, ready to do whatever the director instructed.

Part of me felt a little guilty. I knew he wasn’t enjoying this, at least not nearly as much as I was. But I figured this was very likely my only opportunity to get him on film, so I decided to push back that guilt and make the best damn video I could.

“Lay back down.” I directed him, and Dan complied, taking his elbows out from under himself and folding his arms behind his head as he lay back down against the mound of pillows next to the strong, oak headboard. He had a coy smile on his lips, but a troubled look in his eyes. The combination was incredibly enticing. His soft, cinnamon-brown curls were mussed about on top of his head, fanning out somewhat behind him where the back of his head met the pillow. I zoomed in on his smooth, high-boned cheeks and traced the camera’s lens along his jawline, before sweeping up to focus on his thick, rosy, pillowy lips.

I continued my survey of the scene, scrutinizing every contour of his shape with the camera’s lens. Capturing his small, but well-defined pecs and the subtle showing of his ribcage underneath the stretched skin of his exposed lats. Continuing down his body, I followed the furry trail of dark, fuzzy hair that lined from his navel to his groin, stretching out into a patch of well-groomed pubic hair where the delta of his genitals formed. His slender prick was still resting wanly against his thigh. I knew Dan wasn’t yet turned on by this experience, otherwise that pole of his would have rocketed to attention in the way that only his youth could allow.

I didn’t hesitate on his cock; I kept the camera moving. Following his thighs down past his broad, knobby knees, I catalogued the curve of his calves, the bumps and protrusions of ankles, and the splayed digits of his feet. Satisfied that I had gained sufficient footage of his beautiful, nubile, nude form, I instructed him to roll over.

As Dan twisted atop the golden comforter blanketed our bed, I retraced my path from his feet all the way back toward his scalp – taking particular notice of his fine, toned buttocks and the strong, lean muscles of his back.

I had no reason to think that things would ever end between us, but if for some reason they did, I wanted to make sure that I had captured every, single, square inch of his body on this tape, so that I could review it again and again, to never forget the splendor of his form.

Once I had again reached Dan’s pale, apprehensive face, I asked him to slide over. I sat down and reclined my upper body against the mound of cushiony pillows near the headboard. My torso upright, I now saw through the viewfinder my own, long, bare legs stretching out before me. “I want you to suck my cock, Dan,” I stated directly. “Yes, Derrick,” Dan replied in an equally expressionless tone.

He rolled over and positioned himself between my legs. I lowered the camera to follow his face nearing my soft, thick, flaccid prick. I zoomed back to expand the frame to capture the motions of Dan’s hands, matting down my tufts of dark, downy pubes and lifting my broad lump of tissue. With a couple squeezes and jerks of his wrist, I watched my own cock grow from a spongy tube in a rigid, 7 inch pole. The expression on Dan’s face was finally beginning to soften. I could tell that he was put at ease by no longer being the camera’s sole subject. And the guilty feeling that I had been working to suppress now vanished as I shared the spotlight with my young lover.

I continued to watch with excitement on the tiny LCD screen as those full, red lips of his eased their way down over the thick, spade-shaped head of my honey-brown cock. I shuddered a bit at the sensation and had to force myself to steady the camera to maintain the focus. Dan attentively explored my cock’s head, suckling around the piss-slit and nibbling in a circle around the entire edge of the crest of my cock’s helmet. He then worked his way down the outside of my shaft in tiny nibbles, staring at the solid red light on the front of the camera with wide, smiling eyes. Dan was finally beginning to enjoy this. I knew he’d get off on the idea of being on film, it just took him a little longer than expected to warm up to it.

“Oh, your fucking cock tastes so fucking good!” Dan remarked with slurred words through wet, cock-kissed lips. “I just want to swallow it whole.” He turned his head upright and planted the breadth of his tongue against the base of the bottom side of my shaft at the root. In one, long, forceful lick, he glided his tongue all the way up my shaft, with eyes closed in that expression you make when you taste your first bite of really good icecream. When his tongue reached the end of the line, he opened his eyes and gave the camera a quick grin of his still-gaping mouth as he turned his head down and lowered himself onto my cock. In one smooth descending motion, he followed all the way down, pressing his nose into my pubes.

Again I shuddered as I felt the tip of my cock ram into the back of his throat. He was trying to swallow me, fighting back his gag reflex to keep my cock in his gullet just a little longer; just a little deeper. I zo…

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Glass Canyon Connection

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My boss, Sid Jamison, had told me that tonight was one of “those” nights and that I was to be in his office at precisely 8:15. Such a summons was not that unusual; Jamison had been fucking me regularly for a couple of months on the desk top in his office after hours. I didn’t mind this, because he was really hot and not all that old and he was being really good to me professionally. But I thought it a little strange that he’d given a precise time I should be there.

We worked in one of those all-glass downtown high-rises, where land was at such a premium that the office buildings faced each other closely across narrow canyons bottomed by busy streets. Jamison’s office was on the eighteenth floor, and he got off on topping me in front of floor-to-ceiling glass in the early evening hours while it was still light and while the traffic noise from below was still at a high level. But at 8:15 this time of year, it would be darker out than when we usually fucked in his office. Not a problem for me, because I hadn’t planned anything that evening, but it meant I had to stay around in the office a little longer than usual.

I showed up to his office early and he kept me up against the wall, just inside the door, for several minutes, while he got us all hot and bothered with his roaming hands and lips. We undressed each other there and then rubbed chests, bellies, and cocks until we were both panting and hard for each other. He went down on me there, my back up against the wall and him kneeling between my thighs. He was really good with his tongue, teeth and the soft inner sides of his cheeks, not to mention his fingers at my balls and back door, and it wasn’t long until I’d creamed his tonsils and nearly collapsed on top of him, with my knees buckling at the intensity of the cocksucking.

It was almost precisely 8:30 when Jamison stood and led me over to his desk. I couldn’t have asked for a more studly guy bossing me around. I took my usual stance on the desktop; on my back; butt at the edge of the desk, legs open wide, held by my hands; my back to those floor-to-ceiling glass windows. I was waiting, all atremble, as usual, for those lips at my ass, followed by the cool feel of the KY, and then by the invigorating drive of that seven-inch, very thick cock that I’d come to love plowing my canal.

But tonight, to my surprise, Jamison told me to come down off the desk and turn around, stand on the floor, feet wide apart and lay my chest on the desk top. I did as he asked—he, after all, was the boss. And as he was pressing his face into my crack, successfully finding my puckered hole, and giving that attention with his lips and tongue, I rested my cheek on the desk blotter and sighed and moaned for him, assuring him that I was enjoying his attentions to me. His face came away and his teeth gave my butt cheeks a little nip here and there, causing me to writhe a bit, rubbing my rehardening dick on the leather surface of Jamison’s executive desk. I gave a little lurch and yelp and instinctively grabbed for the corners of the desk with my hands. I jerked my head up as I felt the first of his KY-slathered fingers enter me and begin to probe.

When my head came up, my eyes went to the window, and, instinctively, to the glass office tower immediately across the narrow street canyon from our own glass office tower. Few lights were on over there, so it wasn’t hard for me to zero in on a brightly lit office in the mirroring building just about opposite from ours and two stories higher. That particular window was arresting, because there was a young, well-cut man leaning against that window, looking out, seemingly looking directly at me. The most arresting aspect of that young man was that he was stark naked, his hands spread out wide and supporting him against the window, his forehead plastered to the window, his legs out at a wide stance—and another naked, bulky and hirsute, but not exactly fat, man kneeling behind him, his face buried in the young man’s butt, and…

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Bearded No More

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We’re in a barber shop at night. I’m lying in a barber’s chair, chair back reclined. You are straddling my loins, facing me. We are both buck naked, and you have just languidly fucked yourself on my tool and have now settled down into my lap, feeling my rod go tumescent inside you.

You run your hand over your cheek, telling me that it burns and that my beard has scratched you while we were passionately kissing. I tell you that we can’t have that—that I must passionately kiss you again—so you have my permission to shave the beard. But I say I’m afraid you won’t recognize me if you do, that I no longer will be the man who lights your inner fires. You rotate your hips on my cock and tell me that it’s not my face that sets the blaze within you—and that only that same fireplug you are sheathing now can also quench that fire, as it has just done.

You lean over and take a razor and a can of shaving cream from the barber’s table. The shaving cream is a special blend—minty to the taste, tingly to the feel, a soothing lubricant no matter where applied. You spray it liberally into a hand and run that hand lovingly around my jaw and cheeks, and, with delicate touch, under my nose, spreading the cream in great mounds. You bring your mouth to mine and kiss it then, bearded for the last time, the hair softened now, not scratching you now, permitting you to linger with your tongue swabbing the insides of my cheeks and my teeth. You lift your head now and smile down at me, white cream on your cheek and dribbling down your jaw line, reminding me of just a short time earlier when you were making love to my cock with your luscious, soft mouth. You brought me to orgasm and then raised your head and smiled at me, that innocent smile celebrating your victory and my release—my cream dabbling your cheeks and jaw.

You take the razor now and gently shave off the cream-soaked beard and mustache, stopping briefly from time to time to kiss and lap up the cream residue from where the razor has separated hair from skin. When you are done, you smile down at me radiantly, telling me that I am far more handsome and desirable without the beard than with, assuring me that I arouse you even more now than before, wondering out loud if I can bring you to even greater heights of arousal by being further liberated of the soft, downy auburn hair elsewhere on my body. I can tell you are increasingly aroused; I have a hand wrapped around your cock, and your cock tells me that the unmasking of me has given it great pleasure.

The can spits a mound of cream, which is spread across my chest, and you shave the thin line of hair running down my sternum and under my nipples. With two spritzes on the nipples, you suck off the cream, lingering with your teeth and lips there. I raise, first my left arm, and then my right. You bury your face in my pits, one after the other, to enjoy the last lingering man scent and to tongue my curly hair there to moist softness, followed by cream and shave, and ending with drinking in the new, clean, fresh mintiness, with just a hint of male, with your nose buried in the hollows.


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Class Reunion

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I had joined one of those class reunion websites and I found out that there was a 10-year reunion being planned for my graduating class.I sent an email to the person who was organizing the reunion, saying that I would like to attend.The response was almost immediate and the bookings for the motel next to where the reunion was being held were all but filled. However, they did have one vacancy left in a room with three other guys from my class.I immediately took it.

I only lived about a hundred miles from where the reunion was to take place. So, the day of the reunion, I headed down to the town and was at the reunion site at 6:00 PM.I checked in at the table and was assigned my room next door at the motel.I got my luggage out of the car and headed for the room.I knocked on the room door and there was no answer.So, I opened it and found there was one piece of luggage already there, but no one in sight. There was a list of names on the desk that said who would be in that room.I picked it up and saw Ronald Marsh, Robert Henson, Herbert Armstrong and me, Jason Richards.I recognized the other three guys names and recalled what each had looked like 10 years earlier.

Ron Marsh was one of the school’s top football players and was built like a Mac truck.Bob Henson was one of the basketball players and looked like one of those guys they always use for underwear ads in magazines. Herb Armstrong… What can I say other than he used to be called ‘Herb the nerd’. He was a spindly looking guy with horned rimmed glasses and he seemed to always keep to himself, reading books and being oblivious to anyone around him.

I unpacked my bag and went into the bathroom to pee.While there, I heard the door open and a voice called out, “Hello?”

I answered back, “I’m in the bathroom.I’ll be right out.”As I came out ofthe bathroom, I saw a very handsome bloke standing there reading the “roomie” list.

He looked up and said, “Jason.It’s great seeing you.”I recognized his voice but not his face.His body was to dream over and he extended his hand for a shake and said, “You remember me? Bob, Bob Henson.”It was uncanny how much he had changed in 10 years, although, he still looked like an underwear model.

Bob and I sat there talking about what we had been doing during the years since school. He was married and had two kids.His wife wanted to come to the reunion, but she couldn’t get time off work for the travel from Boston to California, so he came alone.Since there were only two king sized beds in the room, it meant we were going to have to share with the other two guys.That was okay by me.The thought of sleeping next to this handsome hunk stirred in my groin.

There was a knock at the door and almost immediately it opened.In walked a very recognizable Ron Marsh -our football hero.He still looked big and age was kind to him.He was even more handsome than he was in school.He greeted us both with a big handshake.God, he nearly squeezed my hand off.The three of us sat there discussing the coming event and the conversation came around to who was sleeping with whom.The two of them decided they would share one of the beds and that left me to share a bed with ‘Herb the nerd.’Oh well, I guess this was going to be a very restful night.Ron, too, had been married but he and his wife broke up two years ago.He was living in Reno and was one of the pit bosses in a casino.

We sat there talking and decided that the luggage in the room that was placed there earlier must belong to Herb.The evening was about to begin and we decided to get over to the festivities.I was thinking to myself as we walked to the restauranthow I would love to hop in the sack with these two guys and ravish their bodies.

We arrived to the check-in desk and were given badges with our name and picture that was taken from the school year book.We went into the banquet room and there was a mass of people there.Probably about 80 in total.I mingled into the group, saying hello to various alumni and it was interesting how much some had changed in appearance, but some still looked the same.

After about an hour of cocktails, it was time to sit down and have dinner and start the activities. I had been noticing a guy across the room that was not only handsome, but very muscular and had the most beautiful bedroom eyes I had ever seen.I figured he must be the husband of one of the fellow classmates. I made my way to a table and sat down.There was only one seat left at my table and my heart started pumping fast as I saw this handsome dude make his way over and sit down next to me.I couldn’t see his badge, but I knew then that he must be there alone and was one of my classmates.

He looked at me and said, “Hey Jason, how’s it going?”He extended his hand for a shake and I saw his nametag and picture.You could have knocked me over with a feather.It was ‘Herb the nerd.’He had even hand printed ‘Herb the nerd’ on his nametag below his name. I was so taken back by the looks of this guy I began drooling the minute he spoke.My mind advanced in thoughts of the sleeping arrangements and how I was going to share the bed with this very desirable hunk.I could hardly keep my mind on the events of the reunion.

The evening went on with the dinner, announcements and general flashbacks to our school days.They introduced our class president and his wife and even a couple of our teachers were there, sharing our reunion time.
Of course, I could hardly keep my eyes off Herb.It was a good thing we were sitting at a table with a long tablecloth.I had a hard-on almost all the way through the proceedings.If I didn’t know better, I would have thought it was love at first sight.

At the close of the evening, several people went into the bar and Herb, Ron, Bob and myself joined them.The time was getting onto 2:00 AM and the bartender was …

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Deal Closer, Part 6

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When I had cleaned up and returned I found that CJ had wiped himself off with a washcloth that Binggum had conveniently previously located in a bowl on the coffee table and was stuffing and buttoning his sausage back into his red-silk pouch. Binggum was stretched out on the sofa, another wash cloth lying near him on the floor, probably used with a gentle touch by CJ in the most customer-friendly fashion, his tumescent cock nodding up and down on his belly, and a definite satisfied smile on his face.

CJ hadn’t yet seen me, and was addressing Binggum. “So, dinner anyone? Or do we have the fortitude to move right onto the signing and the main course? Or do we just skip the main course altogether because the appetizer was too much?”

Binggum lifted his head and replied, “Not on your life on skipping the main course, but dinner might be a good idea and I might have to pop a few pills to continue much beyond the signing. God, I wish you weren’t on the other coast, CJ—and manufactured everything my company needed.”

Then Binggum and CJ simultaneously caught sight of me, and Binggum’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. I had shed everything down to my toes but the black net pouch jock and had only put back on the slender black leather vest and the smooth-leather black chaps. I was posing in the same doorway CJ had posed in, nicely and fully tanned, my left forearm running up the side of the door frame and my hand flopped down on the top of my head, and the line from my beefcake chest tapering down to my washboard abs and slim waist curved to my jutting right hip. I had combed my curly chest and stomach hair to fine down that trailed down toward and into my groin, and the sock jock almost, but not quite, met up with the studded leather ring at the thick root of my cock. The black netting left nothing to the imagination.

“Oh . . . my . . . God,” CJ muttered.

All Binggum could add was a husky, “I don’t think I’ll be needing any pills after all,” and, to back that statement up, his cock was already jerking to attention.

The three of us moved into the dining room. Binggum motioned for me to sit beside him, but I took the seat across from him, and CJ took the seat on the end. There wasn’t much conversation as we were being served. Binggum couldn’t keep his eyes off me. Late in the meal, I found a bare foot on mine under the table, and I had little trouble deciding whose it was. He was tentatively sliding his toes up under the fringe of my chaps. Just to show Binggum how dexterous I was, I lifted one of my feet up to his crotch and got his cotton pants-encased dick between two toes. He gave me a sly look and pulled his pants down over his hips and started massaging my foot when I returned it to his dick. I moved the toes down the length of his dick and applied my big toe firmly on his piss slit, which made him lurch and cough at the table.

“Perhaps its time for us to sign those agreements,” CJ said sweetly, as Binggum scrunched down in his chair, coming very close to going under the table completely.

“Later, I think,” Binggum answered. “I think there perhaps should be a salad course before the main course, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I think not,” CJ answered. “Oh,” he changed the subject brightly, “Did I happen to tell you that our friend Craig here had never been fucked before yesterday and that he has one of the sweetest and tightest asses you’ll ever meet?

Binggum, who had been taking a swig of his ice tea sputtered and had a coughing fit.

“Oh, are you all right,” I asked with concern, as I moved my other foot under Binggum’s ass and managed to wedge the big toe into his asshole.

“Okay, let’s sign now,” Binggum said. “Where are the contracts and a pen?”

As soon as both had signed, however, CJ pulled some leather straps out of nowhere and bound Binggum to his chair.

“What’s this all about? Let me go,” Binggum roared, but there was a gleam in his eye that belied his ire.

“Oh shut up. You know this is how you like it. You can have him, but first you watch. As I said, for all his charms, Craig is practically virginal. I’m the only one who’s had him, and that was mostly a trial. We’re going to put a little preamble show on for you here. Maybe Craig won’t be quite so tight when it comes your turn.”

“No. Stop. Let me go first,” Binggum pleaded. “God, you’re going to drive me crazy.”

“Oh, yes we are,” CJ pleasantly agreed. He dragged Binggum and his chair around and over until he could see a large open space in the middle of the lounge area. “Here, Craig,” CJ commanded. “Come over here and stand facing our host.”

I dutifully walked over and stood in front of, and about ten feet from Binggum. CJ walked up close behind me and placed his hands on my hips. He kissed and nuzzled my neck and throat until I began to shiver slightly. He then ran his hands up and under my vest, while continuing to nibble on my neck. Binggum moaned slightly and tried to pull out of his chair. His pants were still down around his knees, and I could see that he already had a good hard on. CJ gently pulled the vest up and off my back and discarded it on the floor nearby. He covered my nipples with his strong hands and massaged. Now I was sighing as well, and I turned my head for a tender kiss. I could feel him rising against my butt cheeks, and I pulled more closely into him. CJ was stroking down my chest now and onto my stomach. One of his hands continued on down, through my pubic hair, under the netting of my sock jock and wrapped itself around my engorging dick. The other hand returned to my chest and massaged a nipple. I moaned and raised one arm and laced my fingers into the hair at the back of his head. My other hand covered his down on top of the netting. I spread my legs a bit and nuzzled my butt closer to his ramrod. Binggum was licking his lips, enjoying his bondage and the view. CJ found the buttons on the sock jock and stripped it away and tossed it over by the vest. My cock and balls were now free and exposed.

CJ took my hand, wrapped it around my cock and said, “Masturbate for a few minutes for our host, while I get more comfortable myself. He moved over to the side, where both Binggum and I could see him, and slowly stripped. First his vest was peeled off, and then his pants, and there he stood in all his athletic glory. Meanwhile, I was slowly stroking my cock with one hand and moving my other hand around my body, feeling the ecstasy of solo flight. CJ moved back beside me, facing Binggum, and we both were masturbating ourselves, our cocks growing larger in unison. Binggum moaned and somehow managed to get his hand around his own cock.

CJ pulled a couple of strings on my chaps and they fell away, and there we both stood, fully naked. He turned me until we were facing each other, our profiles to Binggum, moved to within six inches of me, took one of my hands and wrapped it around both of our sausages. I gently stroked t…

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