‘I never realisedwhat a great cock you’ve got there,’ he said.
I flopped on my towel; droplets of water covered my skin. His eyes were still on me, boring into my cock like a red hot rod, igniting a fire in me that needed to flare, grow and rage out of control.
‘What are you talking about? We’re about the same size,’ I insisted.
He looked from his to mine and the more he looked the more I grew.
‘Bullshit,’ he said, his fingers stretching out to measure himself before coming back to me.
‘I just want to compare,’ he said, eyeing me to gauge my reaction as he carefully put his hand down near me.
Brad’s eyes widened as he studied me. His fingers were nearly touching me, so I concentrated as much as possible to make it lift and throb, willing it to grow before his very eyes. I said nothing. I just lay there with my hands behind my head, my cock pulsating visibly as Brad continued to stare. His fingers edged closer. He grazed the side of my knob but said nothing. Neither did I.
Brad leaned back on his towel and looked out to sea. I knew there was no one about. The Italian had disappeared. The area we were in hid us from prying eyes. The old couple were beginning to move off so it was going to be just me and him. Brad picked up suntan lotion and began to apply it over his torso before lavishing his groin, thighs and legs. His body shone, slick with oil. It took all my willpower not to touch him, not to make a move on him. And all the while my cock continued to grow.
‘Want me to put some lotion on you?’ he asked.
‘Sure,’ I said.
I watched him lick his lips as his palms spread the lotion over my torso. As he neared my belly button, he squeezed some more on my skin and then quickly rubbed it in, going further and further towards my cock. His fingers slipped through my pubic hair. I held my breath as his fingers dipped down into my groin, over my balls before coming up the base of my shaft. Then, his hand lightly ran up my cock, his fingers slipping up and down before gliding over my knob as sticky pre-come touched his fingers. Still I said nothing, content to let things take their own course. Without looking at me, his fingers trailed over the knob, around the underside of skin and then slowly down the shaft and then back up again, only barely touching me.
‘Man, you’ve got the biggest cock I’ve ever seen,’ he said.
I breathed a sigh of relief and my cock responded by becoming more rigid, pleased with all this attention. Finally, I was getting what I’d been wanting for such a long time. Finally Brad.
‘Hold it!’ I whispered.
‘What?’
‘Grab hold of it,’ I said, in a firm voice.
He looked to me, then down at my cock and then back to me. I nodded.
‘Do it, please.’
Cautiously, his hand closed around the shaft. It was like lightning soaring through me. My cock throbbed painfully under his grip. I wanted him to pull at it, to jerk me off, to suck me into his mouth.
‘Oh, man, that feels good,’ he said.
‘Hmm, real good,’ I whispered back encouragingly.
‘I’ve … I’ve never done this before,’ he said, avoiding eye contact.
‘That’s OK,’ I chuckled. ‘I have.’
He relaxed and began to stroke it, gently at first and then more firmly. I closed my eyes as his grip tightened and he slowly pumped up and down before his rhythm became bolder, more daring. I was forced to ask him to slow down.
‘Take it easy,’ I whispered. ‘Nice and gentle, like this.’
I reached for him.
‘Hey,’ someone shouted. ‘What are you guys doing?’
It was the old couple. I thought they’d left. Fuck! The guy was shaking his finger at us. Brad pulled away. His face reddened. I had been just about ready to blow. When the couple were out of sight, I lunged for him. I grabbed at his shaft, pumping up and down, enjoying listening to him moan as he fell back onto the towel. His cock thickened again, the skin stretching tight against his knobby veins. My hand moved further downwards to cup his balls. They were tight and hot. I leaned forward and covered his knob with my mouth. He pulled back a fraction and then relaxed. Brad liked it. I ran my tongue over the top, slathering it with saliva. His hand came down on my head, pushing me further down on him until I swallowed his shaft.
‘Oh God,’ he whispered.
Fuck, he was rock hard. I sucked him deep inside my mouth, loving the feel of him, loving the feel of his cock as the blood gushed and coursed through him. His moaning became louder, more ardent, his knob swelling. I knew it wouldn’t be long before he came.
‘Bring … bring your cock up here,’ he said, slapping my back.
I maneuvered around without taking my mouth off him, until I straddled his head. His fist closed around me. He began to lick my knob, cautiously at first, but before long, he was slathering me with his saliva. Then he sucked me deep into his throat, the two of us not caring at this stage if anyone stumbled upon us. Fuck old couples. It took only minutes for us to come. I sucked hungrily, gobbling down his spunk as he devoured mine.
I collapsed on him, sand sticking to my sweaty skin. The combination of the sun and the aftermath of what had just happened had my head spinning.
‘Fuck,’ he said.
‘Hmm,’ I muttered.
We lay there like that for a while, each of us with our own thoughts. Then we ran to the water again, wrestling with each other as the waves knocked us about. Swimming further out, we trod water as we kissed passionately, our tongues seeking out each others, desperate to explore the recesses.
Later, as the sun began to set, we lay on our towels and Brad’s fingers ran along my flesh. I opened my legs, making it easier for him. His finger wiggled around my hairy crack before coming to rest on my puckered hole. This was going better than I thought. This was closer to Brad than I had ever imagined possible. His mouth descended over my cock, the warmth from his mouth heating me up much more than the sun could ever have.
‘Hmm,’ he mumbled, swallowing me up further as his finger probed me.
I looked down as my cock disappeared into his mouth, the knob hitting the back of his throat and stroked his hair.
‘Fuck, it’s big,’ he mumbled.
Running my fingers through his hair, I held onto his head and pushed my cock in deeper. He gagged for a second, pulling back a bit and then he continued to suck. I could feel my passion rising and yanked him back by the hair.
‘I want to fuck you,’ he said.
‘Good,’ I laughed.
‘Roll over on your side,’ he demanded.
I rolled. His tongue rimmed my hole, flickering about crazily as he slathered it with saliva. I could sense his urgency, his need. Before long his knob was gently probing me, trying desperately to inch its way in. I relaxed and after a moment’s hesitation, he slipped in.
At first he pushed in slowly, easing in and out, wanting not to hurt me, but I pushed back, egging him on, desperate for a good fucking. He started to thrust into me, pounding my arse as though he’d been doing it for years.
‘Up on all fours,’ he ordered.
I loved him being assertive, taking the initiative. This was a new Brad, a Brad out of control. He knelt in behind me, pulled my arse cheeks apart and dove right in. His fingers gripped my flesh as he slammed into me. Then he was slapping at my thighs, riding me hard before exploding inside me.
I fell to the ground as he pulled away. But I was hungry for him. He was on his back, breathing hard, his cock flaccid now, lying on his thigh. I flew down to his cock. Sucked him deep into the back of my throat building up my saliva so he slid in and out rhythmically. His limp and exhausted cock began to swell in my mouth.
‘Oh, yeah. Suck my dick, man.’
I did for a while, but what I really wanted to do was fuck his arse too. Leaving his cock, I made my way down to the base of his shaft while my fingers played with his balls. Sucking his hairy balls into my mouth, my fingers continued further towards the crack of his arse where I found his
puckered hole. I tickled the skin there and felt his hand on my head pushing me further down towards his hole. I didn’t need anymore encouragement. Brad was ready.
Lying between his open thighs I lifted a leg and threw it over so he lay more on his side. Opening up his arse cheeks, I licked his crack lovingly, up and down before resting on his hole. With my tongue trying to find its way in, I gave him a good rimming, lubing him up for what soon would be his first time I hoped. His first gay fuck. I manoeuvredmy way behind him so I was spooning him, my cock probing his arse.
‘Hey, man,’ he said nervously. ‘I don’t think that fucker’s going to fit. It’s too fucking big.’
‘Oh, it will fit all right,’ I said.
‘Be gentle with me then.’
My cock slid between his legs nudging up against his balls while my hand slid over his hip and down into his groin. His cock was rock hard now. I held onto it, pumping it while my cock continued to rub up against him. His hand came down to cover mine and I left him to wank himself while I grabbed my own cock and with my other hand pried open his arse cheeks.
‘Come on,’ I whispered. ‘Let me in, Brad.’
I continued to nudge his opening. He pushed back into me, grinding his arse into my groin.
‘Easy, easy,’ he said, while I was trying to inch it in.
‘Oh God, you’re so fucking tight.’
Maybe too tight. I didn’t want his first time to be too painful. I needed him to relax, let go of his muscles and perhaps his apprehension. I pushed gently, probing further as I pulled his cheeks apart and the knob began to slip in.
‘Oh fuck,’ he moaned and I felt him tense.
‘Relax,’ I said.
‘It’s too big, man. It’s too fucking big.’
‘Just relax.’
With my knob barely in, my hand snaked under and weighed his balls, squeezing them gently as he played with his cock.
‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ I said.
‘You won’t,’ he conceded. ‘Just give it to me.’
‘You sure?’ I said.
‘Real sure,’ he urged.
Grabbing hold of his hips, I manoeuvredhim around until he was up on all fours. With him in this position, I was able to grab hold of his hips and guide my cock gently inside. Slowly I built up the pressure, inching in. I could feel some resistance and pulled back.
He flung his head up.
‘Keep going, but just take it easy.’
I pushed in further, slowly and carefully. I slapped at his thigh, hard.
‘Oh shit,’ he moaned. ‘I think it’s too fucking big.’
Inching it in further, he cried out with pain. I pulled back a bit, eased back in, just getting him used to the size, just wanting him to relax and not tense up. I wanted, needed his arse. Brad’s arse. I slapped his thigh again, then his cheek. He liked it. Liked a bit of a spanking, so I slapped his cheeks, taking his mind off my cock. I felt him let go, relax further so I slipped in further. He was tight, real tight. But I eased in and out gently, giving him the occasional slap as he moaned with pleasure.
‘Oh, yeah. That’s great,’ he said.
I sensed he was just trying to say the right thing. I knew this was hurting. I tried to pick up the tempo. He screamed with pain as I inched in further him. His hole needed stretching if I was ever going to fit my full cock inside him. Sweat was pouring off me and I watched it drip onto his back. My knees hurt, the pressure from the sand digging in. I pulled my cock out and shook it against his hole. Giving it a good pull, I wanked off with the tip of my cock pushing back against his hole.
‘Oh God, I’m coming,’ he cried out, his body slick with sweat.
‘Me too,’ I said, giving my cock one last pull so I could spray a load all over his back.
I collapsed on top of him. We stayed like that for a few moments each of us trying to catch our breath, before falling onto the sand.
‘You OK?’ I said.
‘God, that was great,’ he said.
It was dusk. The sun setting on the sea left a pink hue on the horizon. I smiled to myself, pleased with how the day had gone; pleased I’d been right about Brad. I was sated and exhausted.
‘But I’m still feeling horny,’ he said.
His fingers tweaked a nipple, pulling at it hard before he sucked it into his mouth to tug at it with his teeth.
‘Hey,’ I complained.
‘You’d better roll over and get up on all fours,’ he said.
‘You serious?’ I asked.
‘You’d better believe it,’ he chuckled. ‘You hurt me, I hurt you.’
I’d unleashed a demon; an insatiable demon. It’s been fun trying to tame him ever since.
The Running Man
by Jade Taylor
When the running gets too hard I always think about what I’m running back to.
Who I’m running back to.
He’s not my lover, waiting in bed for my return, sleepy eyed and waking horny, wondering how long I’ll be. He’s not my friend, ready to meet me for morning coffee, to ask how far I’ve run today. He’s not even a colleague, someone I get to see every day with a brisk hello, how are you? that’s never truly answered.
But he’s my neighbour.
It isn’t enough, shouldn’t be enough, that when I push my body too hard, that when I run to the limits of my exhaustion, the thought of him should still make me run back home.
But somehow it is.
I’m rangy, not prone to putting weight on, and though I have a worrying fondness for Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, I eat well and healthily. But I’m prone to loneliness in this new city of mine, to worrying, over-thinking things rather than acting impulsively, and the running helps me vent some steam.
It also stops me thinking about how long it is since I got laid.
Though running back, thinking about my neighbour, does not.
He’s tall and dark, with one of those cheeky smiles that seem to imply he’s constantly thinking lascivious thoughts. I’ve only ever seen him in smart suits, but once, when he had his sleeves rolled up, I saw the edge of a tattoo peeking through, that made me want to get closer, to explore his body more thoroughly.
He has broad shoulders, and though I’ve never seen him in jeans, it would be a dream come true, his tight little ass obvious despite his well cut trousers.
He has big blue eyes, made even more striking by his dark hair and skin, and eyelashes that go on forever.
He’s out, but not flamboyant, and I can’t help but admire the easy way he handles his sexuality as if it were part of him that should be as easily accepted as the colour of his hair or the size of his shoes.
For me it had never been that easy.
I was a small town boy who had escaped to the big city to pursue a more romantic life. Where I was from being gay was not so readily accepted, and once you’d slept with x, y and z, you were out of options.
And now, now I had all the options open to me, but was still too damn afraid to make a move.
I run faster, pushing myself harder, wishing that when I’d left my small town I could have managed to leave that small town boy behind too.
When I walk past his apartment, still breathing hard, I notice his door is open and there are boxes piled up outside. I have a flash of panic, breathing even harder, what if he’s moving before I have the chance to act on my crush?
I stop, pretending to stretch my hamstrings, hoping that he’ll catch sight of me and come to talk.
Because he does talk to me, a lot. My crush is based on more than the purely physical, it’s also how he will tell me about his day at work when he sees me, tell me about what his so cute but mischievous cat has been up to, tell me what those delicious aromas are that are coming from his apartment. More than once he’s asked me in for dinner, but though I want to say yes, every time I come up with some excuse, until now he’s stopped asking me.
It’s a very one-sided conversation, he talks to me, and at times I even think he’s flirting, whi
le I stammer and blush, flushed and flustered.
But if he’s moving out maybe it’s time for that to change.
‘Hey, Matt!’ he calls out, spotting me from where he’s taping up boxes in his lounge.
‘Morning, Josh, what you up to?’
‘Having a clear out,’ he tells me, and my pulse slows slightly, it’s OK, he’s not leaving. ‘You want a drink?’
This is usually where I run away, but this time, I don’t.
‘Sure,’ I tell him, not sure who’s more surprised at my answer, him or me.
I sit on the sofa as he goes over to the fridge, throwing me a bottle of water before reaching back in for one of his own.
Now I’m not so panicked I look at him properly; he’s wearing jeans, and they fit as well as I’d imagined.
Perhaps it’s a sign.
‘I’m glad to see you,’ he continues, ‘I was going to come by later, ask for a favour. I have a box on top of my closet that I can’t reach, thought you might be able to help me?’
‘Sure,’ I tell him, and though I’m still stuck on senseless one-word-answers, it’s OK. I’m still sat in Josh’s apartment, having a drink, and I’m going to help him.
It’s good.
‘It’s through here,’ he says, and I stand to follow him.
I can’t believe I’m standing in Josh’s bedroom.
It’s clean and tidy, decorated in dark masculine colours, and the bed is huge, dominating the room. My eyes seem stuck to it, imagining us lying in it, tangled together, and I have to fight to tear my gaze away.
I drain my bottle, hoping that will help me cool down.
It doesn’t help.
Instead it gets worse, as I look at his bedside table. There’s lube and a box of tissues there, and immediately I picture him lying on his back, his jeans pulled down around his hips, his fist tight around his thick cock as he pumps at it intently.
My cock hardens immediately at the thought, and knowing my arousal is more than obvious in my flimsy running shorts, I try to think of disgusting things, my times tables, cleaning the bathroom, anything to make it disappear.
As the blood leaves my cock it seems to rush straight to my face, and though Josh may not have noticed my erection, he soon notices my blushing. He looks over at the lube, then away, choosing to spare me further embarrassment by ignoring that I’ve seen.
Boy Fun, Four Book Bundle Page 7