Copyright © 2007 Sticky Pen

Quickly running into the woods the urgency had him almost tearing off his jeans. The strong clear stream could still be heard over the spring rain. He could hear the foliage being pelted with raindrops. He also felt the drops on his exposed ass. What he didn’t hear was the footfalls stealing up behind him. Two hands cupping his ass cheeks is what he felt next. He stopped the stream and whirled around. Another man stood there, grey hair at the temples. He was not imposing. He was shorter and slighter. “I was waiting for you to one day leave the path.” He referred to the concrete walkway that ran through the city park. “You know what your are doing is wrong.” In a breathy, scared tone he answered. “N-no-one could see me.” he stammered ” The older man sternly looked him in the eye. “I did.” He reached down to try and pull his pants up that were around his knees. “What are you doing?” The man asked. “Leave them down.” As the man moved over to him he put his hands in front of his exposed cock. A tree stump was nearby which the older man sat on. “Now you know you must be punished. Your pants are already down. Now lay over my lap. You’re going to be spanked.” He had never seen another man naked, nor been with a man. He always fantasized about being spanked. As an adult he would often reach around and slap his …

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Copyright © 2007 Sticky Pen

A NOBLE ROMAN (…dedicated to the men and women who wear the uniform of the United States Armed Forces, and who daily risk their lives all over the world to keep We The People free, so that we can be who and what we are and live our lives as we see fit…) I had taken a wrong turn in the ancient ruins at Bath, England, and I was lost, and separated from my tour group. I was down in the lowest part of the structure, by the pools, and I had been looking at some of the ancient Roman relics on display there. I was so fascinated that I did not notice that the tour group had moved on. I was entranced by the idea of seeing relics of peoples’ lives from literally thousands of years ago – people who were, essentially, just like me – who tried to live their lives as best they could, and who had their share of triumphs and successes, joys and tragedies, as we all have. And now, long after they had returned to the dust from whence we all come, I can view (and sometimes, surreptitiously touch) the stone doorframes of their houses, the marble couches on which they reclined to dine, and the monuments which their bereaved family and friends set up to mark their passing. The …

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Copyright © 2007 Sticky Pen

Come here, unbutton my shirt and run your hand down my belly and below my waistband. Feel that? It’s all for you. Let it free; let it breath. There, ahhhh. Your warm hand feels so good wrapped around my cock. Feel it growing, getting longer and thicker? That’s for you. That’s because I love the way you look. What great shape you’re in; the way you take care of your body; the movement of your body as you approach me. How you look at me when I enter the room. Ah, yes, I love the feel of your lips on my nipples. No, don’t stop stroking my cock while you tongue my nipples. Such hot lips, following my downy trail. Ah, yes, put your tongue in my navel like that again. Yes, just go ahead and strip my pants off my legs. Your hands holding my hips tight, skin on skin, your face buried in my belly. I feel you taking possession of me. Taking control. I love that. You know just what pleases me. I’m falling back onto the edge of the bed now, you supporting me and holding me to your searching lips with strong hands, the heels of your hands dug into my hips, the palms flat out, cupping my butt mounds. Oh, oh! Yes, your lips encircling my mushroom cap, your tongue darting in and out of my piss slit. Mooaaaannnn. Oh, oh, Can you take it all in? Oh, yes, yes you can. Moaannnn. I love …

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