Urban Delights

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Urban Delights Page 11

by Emeric Varady


  With my cock reaming out his sweet little manhole, Diego lost it, going wild!

  “Fuck me!” he’d yell. “Oh, fuck my ass, stud! Go in there deep and hard. Oh, ream me out! Get that cock of yours all the way in there, and fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck my ass! Come in my ass! I want to be your pussy boy. I want to be your bitch!”

  “You are,” I told him. “You are my boy. You are my bitch!”

  “Jesus! Sweet Jesus!” Diego shrieked. “Fuck me harder! Destruir ese agujero!” [“Wreck that hole!”]

  I was picking up quite a few Spanish phrases which might come in useful later, back home!

  “I want that cock!” Diego insisted. “Deep in me! Fucking me! Fucking me like I was a cunt!”

  If his kids could see their daddy now! I thought—maliciously, I admit.

  I wanted to blast my load of cum into his quaking, constricting anal depths, baptizing his bowel with my sperm. Like a wild animal pissing to mark its territory, I longed to expel my semen into Diego, labeling him as my own. My personal property—my hot hole, mine to fuck!

  But I knew that Brash would kill me if I failed to deliver a come shot, for Jerry to capture on video in all its wet, spurting abundance.

  “Get ready—to take—my goddamn cum!” I gritted out.

  “Oh, yeah, fucker! Give it to me! Shoot that cum deep in my ass!” Diego begged. He seemed to have forgotten the need for me to ejaculate outside his body.

  “I’m going to shoot—on you,” I reminded him, feverishly. “All over you!”

  “Uh, do it!” he cried.

  I withdrew my prick from his ass. My frantically stimulated male organ pulsed violently, and it ached, so intense was my arousal. I was sure I was going to erupt, within a few seconds. A few strokes of my hand on my cock were all that would be needed—!

  But then there was a slight glitch. I thought I was about to come. I desperately wanted to come! But, all of a sudden, for some reason, I couldn’t!

  “Damn,” I muttered, as I pumped away roughly on my stubborn prick. Panicking a bit, I fought to wrench my semen out of me by brute force!

  That’s when Diego, to give him credit, really stepped up to the plate. Jerry’s camera was still rolling, of course, and Diego seemed to sense that I was having difficulty crossing the finish line.

  “Let me do that for you,” he urged me.

  He took over, giving me a vigorous hand job, which his powerfully developed arm muscles made especially exciting. My cock pulsed hotly within his grip, and when he began to stroke it, slowly, up and down, I felt myself swell larger and harder inside his fist.

  “Yeah,” he growled. “Let me beat this big piece of meat!” I looked at his face and I saw renewed lust gleaming in his eyes. He’d certainly seemed to have gotten off on having my cock in his ass, but handling my prick seemed to be getting him aroused all over again. I leaned back, resting my head against the mattress, and I closed my eyes, surrendering myself to the steady throbs of response which the pumping action of his tight fist were generating in my cock. “How does this feel?” Diego wanted to know. “Am I doing it right? Am I doing it the way you like?”

  “Fuck, yeah,” I assured him. “Don’t change a damn thing!”

  “I’m start sucking it in a minute,” he promised. “I’ve always wanted to try that ‘ass to mouth’ thing. I wonder if I’ll be able to taste my ass on your cock?”

  My cock jumped and twitched inside his fist, as though it had ears, it had heard him, and it was impatient to be sucked. Diego’s fingers squeezed my shaft even tighter and he began to jerk me off with slow, sure strokes. His fist pumped away on my prick so skillfully that I could already feel the familiar tension of an impending orgasm start to build up in my loins, in my balls—in the core of my highly sensitive, responsive cock. I prayed that this time it wouldn’t be a false alarm!

  Diego’s busy, talented hand coaxed me closer and closer toward orgasm, to the extent that I was enjoying the hand job so much that I’d have been willing to have him bring me off, just like that. But he was true to his word. I felt his body shift its position on the mattress next to mine, when he brought his face down to my cock. I opened my eyes. I wanted to see him do it, knowing that the lewd sight of the other muscle man putting my cock in his mouth and sucking it would give me almost as much satisfaction as the actual physical sensations of the act.

  Slowly, teasingly, Diego touched his lips to my dick, which throbbed visibly in response to the light pressure of his warm, wet lips. He kissed my penis, pressing his mouth down firmly against it, and then he pulled back and stuck out his tongue. While he held the base of my cock steady with his left hand, he began to masturbate himself with his right fist, and his tongue licked its way in slow, deliberate, provocative wet circles around the head of my fuck tool.

  I couldn’t help myself. I squirmed, and I sucked in my breath with a loud gasp. My pelvis rose involuntarily from the bed, thrusting my dick at his face.

  “Go on,” I begged him. “Put it in your mouth!”

  He grinned at me. Now it was payback time—his turn to taunt me, a little.

  “Make me, if you’re such a tough guy. Make me suck you!” Diego suddenly insisted. “I like it when I pretend I’m being forced.” Without waiting for a response from me, he showed me just what he meant. He released both of our dicks and he placed my hands on top of his head. He held them there, tightly against his skull, my fingers brushing through his disheveled hair and rubbing his scalp. He pressed down, guiding my head down—and driving my dick deep into his mouth.

  I sucked in my breath again when I felt the pressure of his warm lips, the slippery friction of his tongue, and the juicy wetness inside his mouth, all combine to stimulate my cock. He took his hands away from mine. Keeping my hands clasped on his head, I pushed it down until every inch of my prick was buried in his mouth, and his lips were snug against the wreath of pubic hair around its base. A moment later, I heard him gag, and I relaxed my grip a bit. But then he grunted in protest. He wanted me to fuck his face! To “force” him to blow me! To make him choke on my thick, rigid cock!

  I once again pushed down on the back of his head, playing along with his fantasy scenario of being orally raped—but by now it was already a token gesture. He was taking over the suck, his head bobbing up and down in my lap of its own volition. He swallowed my cock willingly, greedily, taking it all the way down to my balls, indifferent to any discomfort it caused him. While he sucked and deep-throated me, he swiped away at my smoldering cock flesh with his tongue.

  I released my hold on his head and I leaned back. My eyes were wide open, watching the way he bobbed his head and pumped his mouth on my prick. Every time I saw him swallow my meat, every time I watched it disappear between his distended lips, every time I felt the wet warmth of his mouth surround it, I groaned with delight and I felt myself coming that much closer to shooting off. The jabs my dickhead made down into the tight, convulsing depths of his throat further excited me, and they did nothing to postpone my orgasm.

  Diego was a damn good cocksucker. His utterly masculine appearance and manner quite effectively disguised the fact that at heart he was a dirty sex pig. He was almost as bad as me! I reveled in the way being blown by him felt. But in addition to the physical pleasure, there was the obscene sight of it, the arousing visual element. His lips were stretched like a thick, fleshy rubber band around my shaft. His saliva leaked from the corners of his mouth and trickled down his chin. His nostrils were flared as he breathed desperately through his nose. His eyes had a glazed, rapt look in them, as he feverishly sucked on my frantically agitated, ready-to-erupt prick!

  “Hell, yeah, man!” I yelled. “Suck it, Diego! Suck it!”

  He had resumed his masturbation. His fist pumped away on his own cock like a machine thrown into high gear. I could hear the sound of his hand slapping on his penis, flesh impacting upon flesh. He was making gurgling noises deep down in his throat. His mouth was leaking saliva around my cockshaft, trickles
of spit running down his chin and dripping onto my balls, wetting the bedsheets between my thighs.

  With his free hand, he toyed with my balls. But, when that didn’t satisfy him, he let go of my testicles, and instead his hand probed between my buttocks. His fingertips massaged my sphincter ring, but soon they pushed their way through my pucker, and he used two fingers to finger-fuck my ass. The fingertips nudged my prostate.

  Now, I was frantic to come. In the completed video, when I saw it, the desperation on my face, the tension in both of our bodies, and Diego’s abandoned efforts to make us both ejaculate, looked incredibly hot. And neither of us was acting, or faking it. We were caught up in our mutual sexual frenzy.

  “Suck my dick!” I shouted. My groin pounded against his face. My cock drove brutally into his mouth, down into his throat. “Suck, goddamn you! I’m going to come!”

  He grunted in acknowledgment of my warning. His lips slid back and forth on my shaft even more rapidly, sucking me more avidly than they had ever blown me before. His hand pumped violently on his own cock while he sucked mine. Abruptly, I heard him making a choking sound, deep in his throat, followed by a muffled whimper. I felt his big, muscular body spasm against mine. Raising my head, I looked down at his crotch. He was ejaculating, for a second time, his cock spraying thick wet jets of cum across the rumpled bed. The sight of him unloading like that was all it took to trigger my own orgasm.

  Once again holding firmly onto Diego’s head, I lunged up from the bed.

  “Coming,” I repeated, gasping. “Don’t stop! Don’t you dare stop now. Go right on sucking it. Get ready for a big mouthful of cum. Yeah, here goes! I’m about to shoot! Get ready to swallow my fucking cum—!”

  But, unfortunately, I couldn’t allow myself the pleasure of coming in his mouth and letting him swallow my load, as much as I wanted to. It was now definitely come shot time. In fact, it was now or never!

  I drew back and I freed my dick from between Diego’s lips just in time to fire off outside his mouth, expelling jet after jet of semen smack onto his handsome face. I came exceptionally hard, and in a larger quantity than usual. Diego received a thorough facial, drenching him from his forehead right down to his chin! Just when I thought I must be depleted, my cock spat out thick wads of sperm several more times, before the torrent slowed to a trickle.

  Then it was safe for me to shove my cock back inside Diego’s mouth. Emitting lewd, appreciative grunts, he sucked hungrily on my just-emptied fuck tool. For a straight guy, he was doing a surprising good job of pretending to enjoy gay sex!

  Diego clung greedily to my dick for a minute or two, his lips locked firmly around the very base of my shaft, his tongue scrubbing it, trying to coax still more fluid from me. Only when he felt my penis begin to go flaccid inside his mouth did he, reluctantly, slide his lips off it. He wiped his cum-smeared lips and chin with his hand, and he grinned at me, triumphantly.

  “I guess I got it all,” he boasted. “Everything you had to give! One way or the other—either on my face or in my mouth. And believe me, fucker, the taste I did get was good to the last drop.”

  He kissed me on the mouth—again, with an enthusiasm which made me wonder whether his gay for pay status was hewn in stone. It seemed to be developing some cracks and fissures, to me!

  Brash yelled, “Cut!” and our anal and oral marathon was over. “What a fuck! What a hot-looking, nasty fuck!” Brash declared, almost jumping up and down, so revved up was he. “And that delayed come shot—that was pure genius!” He assumed I’d delayed coming deliberately, and I wasn’t about to disillusion him. “But you almost gave me a heart attack, Emeric,” Brash complained. “When you threatened to come in his mouth! I couldn’t believe you were going to waste that load, and not let Jerry get it. Don’t scare me like that again, please. I’m not sure I can take it.”

  “Speaking of taking it,” I said. “You sure did a damn fine job, Diego. For a straight guy, you almost had me thinking you were enjoying yourself.”

  He flushed. “Well, I figured as long as I had a job to do—I might as well go all the way.”

  “That’s the kind of attitude I like. I appreciate all your hard work, guys,” Brash told us.

  I’d fulfilled my contract. The video was in the can, ready for editing, processing, and distribution. In the morning, Sandor and I would fly back to Budapest. We hated to leave!

  Chapter Nine: Wrapping it Up

  That evening, Bo and Trent threw a “wrap party,” for everybody. They chased the rest of us out of their kitchen, because they intended to prepare an especially lavish dinner.

  I was interested to see that Diego accepted our hosts’ invitation to stay for dinner. Diego got on his cell phone and told his girlfriend that he had to work late, unexpectedly, to shoot some retakes of his scene. This wasn’t true, of course. Lying to the significant other? In order to spend more time with a group of gay men? I couldn’t help but think that such prevarication was the first misstep on a slippery slope.

  The meal began with a spinach and salmon salad, followed by a really distinctive pasta dish—linguine with melted onions and cream, topped with freshly grated parmesan cheese. All this was accompanied by a crisp white wine.

  After that excellent meal, most of us wandered outside onto the terrace, beside the pool. I stripped and climbed into the hot tub. Relaxing though that was, it soon began to make me feel sleepy, so I got out, dried myself, and stretched out nude on one of the chaise longues. I enjoyed the dry night air and the starlit sky overhead. I did doze off.

  When I woke up, about half an hour later, I was alone. Some kind soul had fetched a quilt and spread it over me. I got up and, without bothering to put on any clothes, I went inside the house, curious to see how the other guys were entertaining themselves.

  Not to my surprise, they all seemed to be having sex! I was mildly piqued, because they’d started without me!

  From the master bedroom, the one Trent and Bo shared, I heard the familiar, unmistakable sounds of men being intimate together—moans, grunts, heavy breathing, the slap of flesh against flesh. The door was wide open, so I didn’t hesitate to go and investigate.

  Standing in the doorway, looking into the room, I got quite an eyeful.

  “Fuck me! Goddamn you, fuck me! Fuck me!” Bo was demanding, hoarsely, as he lay on his back on the sweat-stained, rumpled sheets and he stretched his legs straight up in the air and cupped his own pectoral muscles in his hands, pinching his nipples fiercely. “Fuck me, stud!”

  Israele was drunk and high, his eyes glazed over, his lips slack and drooling saliva. But his splendid young prick was in full, functional erection as he set aside a bottle of poppers, he reached under Bo with both hands, and he grabbed the older guy’s rear end, none too gently—which made Bo groan with pleasure. His legs were still sticking straight up, but now they came to rest on the novice porn actor’s broad brown shoulders. Brash’s protégé leaned forward, panting for breath, and his weight came down on Bo, so that the man’s body was almost bent in half.

  In this position, Israele penetrated our host. It was a brutal, quick, hard stab which pierced Bo’s butt completely, and made him scream in mingled pain and delight. I winced, myself, in empathy. Even lubricated though it was, Israele’s massive prickshaft was a lot for any guy’s asshole to take comfortably. But the young stallion showed Bo no mercy—not that the older man seemed to want any!—as his big, hot balls bounced against the cheeks of Bo’s butt in a hard and fast rhythm. Aggressively, the Latino lad forced his way in and out of that ravaged ass, until Bo’s flesh seemed to vibrate madly around the burning cock, completely subjugated by the violent anal assault.

  “God, am I going to be sore back there tomorrow,” Bo groaned, as he helped himself to the poppers. “But,” he added, gasping, after he’d taken several deep snorts of the amyl, “it’s going to be worth it! Don’t stop. Go right on fucking me. Yeah, fuck the ass right off me!”

  Still doubled up, the man was helpless under Israele�
�s weight and hard-driving potency. And yet, I could tell that, deep inside him, Bo was managing to squeeze the bloated head and shaft of Israele’s penis with his anal muscles, in a rhythmic, pulsating movement which seemed to inspire the well-hung young stud to ever more strenuous thrusts into his body. It was a trick which I employed myself when I was fucked, and the rapt look on Israele’s face when his dick got milked like that was something I’d seen on the faces of men who’d screwed me.

  “Fuck me, boy!” Bo kept moaning, his head rolling from side to side on the mattress, his fingers clawing up at Israele’s well-defined shoulders and chest.

  “Wow,” Israele exclaimed, with boyish naïveté, “for an old guy, you’re sure a great fuck!”

  Bo didn’t seem to be offended by this backhanded compliment.

  “I’ll stack myself up against any of those younger studs, any time,” he boasted. “I’ll show you who knows how to get fucked, sonny—how to take a cock. Keep fucking my ass!”

  Both men were so caught up in their mutual lust that they remained unaware of my presence in the doorway. Belatedly, I felt a little ashamed of my voyeurism. Silently, I padded away, on my bare feet, and I made my way to the guest bedroom which Sandor and I shared.

  There, too, the door was wide open, and there, too, the bed was occupied. Quickly getting over my shame, I stood there in the shadows of the hallways, checking out the action in the room.

  Sandor was getting another fix of hot, hard Hispanic cock. No doubt he was determined to glut himself on it up until the last minute, before our departure. And the stud who was fucking him was none other than Diego! My buddy was getting the gay for pay guy’s dick shoved up his ass for free!

  The two guys weren’t alone. Trent was on the bed, too, and like me he was absorbed in observing what was one hell of an athletic fuck!

  Here, too, a bottle of poppers was circulating. Trent was snorting from it at the moment, and then he made himself useful by holding it under first Diego’s nostrils, then Sandor’s. Neither man really seemed to be in need of chemical stimulation. They were both mad with lust, and the amyl only seemed to inflame them, like pouring gasoline on a fire!

 

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