While Mason was busy winking at me, buzz-cut Bobby charged him.
Before Mason could so much as turn, Bobby brought his fist down onto Mason’s right shoulder like a sledgehammer.
A bloodthirsty cheer rose from the encircling crowd as the mighty Mason twisted and buckled under the blow, every meaty muscle in his body jolting heavily as he came down on one knee.
Swiftly Bobby followed the first blow with a left hook to Mason’s jaw, striking while his opponent was still down.
Blood flew from Mason’s lips as a smile spread across Bobby’s.
“You sure you don’t wanna quit now before I mop the floor with your pretty face?”
Mason wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shook his head. “Fuck you.”
Bobby laughed and shrugged. “You wish.” This time it wasn’t his fist he used; with Mason still down on one knee, buzz-cut Bobby threw a foot up into Mason’s jaw as though he were kicking a football.
Mason’s head flew back and his entire body contorted before folding to the floor in front of me.
As the crowd continued to chant and cheer, I stared down at the gorgeous, fallen god at my feet. Blood trickled down his chin. It had splashed onto his heaving chest and matted the hair there. Suddenly my heart ached for this battered beauty, until soon I heard myself say—beneath the noise of the frat boys but loud enough for Mason to hear—“Get up!”
Groggily Mason looked at me, strained, confused. “What did you say?”
“I said, get up! The physics lesson starts now! Newton’s first law of motion states that a body is either at rest or moving in a straight line at constant velocity, otherwise known as the law of inertia.”
“So?” Mason checked to see that his jaw wasn’t broken.
“So get up, then get out of the way.”
“What?”
“Just do it!”
My voice must have been more forceful than I realized because despite his obvious pain Mason obeyed my command without any further question or hesitation. One moment he was on his feet and back in the ring. The next, disgruntled by Mason’s failure to accept defeat, buzz-cut Bobby charged at him like a bull.
Mason glanced at me, then back at Bobby. He held his ground, then a split second before impact, instead of fighting, Mason sidestepped.
Buzz-cut Bobby’s momentum carried him straight into the crowd of onlookers, and with several loud grunts and groans Bobby sent himself and a group of stunned frat boys crashing to the floor.
Mason shot me a somewhat surprised and appreciative grin, licking the blood off his perfect teeth. I couldn’t help but notice him steal a glance at my still stiff cock. I saw that his own crotch was beginning to bulge beneath his tight gym shorts, leaving little to my already overworked imagination. “Thanks,” he said. And there was that wink again.
Across the room, an enraged buzz-cut Bobby had pulled himself to his feet.
“Any more lessons?” Mason asked me.
“How much do you weigh?” I thought quickly.
“A hundred and ninety pounds.”
“How much does he weigh?”
Mason shrugged. “Two-ten. Maybe more.”
“Charge him,” I said. “Don’t worry, he won’t use your sidestep tactic. He’s too stupid and far too mad.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded. “Newton’s third law. To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. The forces of two bodies on each other will direct them in the opposite direction.”
“Translation?”
“Slam into the motherfucker as hard as you can and brace yourself. He’s heavier. He’ll fall harder.”
Mason took a deep breath, took a step back, then with all the speed he could muster within the enclosed space he charged at Bobby.
Bobby grinned and accepted the challenge, running as fast as he could at Mason.
Both men dropped their shoulders low, like knights in a joust, ready for the collision. Mason held his breath as the two hulking combatants plowed headlong into each other before ricocheting apart and flying backward through the air.
Having braced for impact, Mason thudded against the floor, rolled, then seemed to bounce straight back onto his feet. Buzz-cut Bobby, on the other hand, slammed against the floor so hard that every last breath of air was knocked out of his lungs. Eyes wide, veins in his neck bulging, he wheezed and gasped desperately for oxygen.
Mason was already storming over to his flattened foe. He seized Bobby by his thick forearm and jerked him to his feet. While Bobby stood spluttering, Mason threw a punch that landed square in the middle of Bobby’s face.
Buzz-cut staggered backward as the blow popped his nose open and a starburst of blood covered his face, but it also seemed to knock the air back into his lungs.
Mason quickly dealt a second blow, this time to Bobby’s cheekbone. But buzz-cut seemed to absorb the strike before responding swiftly with a powerful uppercut to Mason’s chin.
Stumbling unsteadily, Mason teetered backward before turning and losing his balance altogether, falling to his knees in front of me, his face landing right in my lap.
I shuddered, mortified—stunned—thrilled.
Mason simply lifted his giddy, wobbling head, his cheek brushing against my erect cock on the way up, his manly stubble rough against my silky stem. An electric shock of pure delight shot through my entire being.
“Any ideas what to do next?” was all Mason could slur, blinking back the dizziness, his mouth so close to the engorged head of my cock it were as though he was talking into a microphone. I could feel the heat of his breath—and yet Mason did not remove himself or even seem to mind at all.
“Ideas on what comes next?” I gulped. I had a pretty good guess at what the answer would be if his beautiful face stayed in my lap much longer, but Mason needed a more scientific response if he was going to win this fight. Or more accurately, win me!
“Force,” I mumbled.
“What?”
“Newton’s second law. Force equals mass times acceleration.” I looked down at Mason’s mighty hands and considered what those generous fists were capable of. “You have the mass, but you’re pulling back on your acceleration which is in turn affecting your force index.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re pulling your punches. You’re aiming short. Don’t aim for his face. Aim for a point beyond his face. Follow through. Keep up your acceleration.”
At that moment, buzz-cut Bobby grabbed himself a handful of Mason’s hair and yanked his head out of my lap. He spun Mason on his feet, but before Bobby could so much as curl his fist, Mason delivered a right hook like a damn freight train.
Bobby’s head swiveled with the blow and a tooth rattled across the floor.
Before the buzz-cut bully could so much as register what just hit him a second fist flew at him. This time it was a hook from the left that sailed across Bobby’s face, opening a gash above the eye then following through, not stopping till it was at least a foot beyond its target.
Bobby lurched backward, tried to hold himself up but tottered precariously on his quivering legs.
Mason stepped up to his opponent, pulled his right arm back, then launched it with all the power he had left in him.
Buzz-cut Bobby was unconscious before his bulky frame shook the floorboards. The entire attic went silent, I suppose wondering as I was if Buzz Cut was even still alive after that last killer blow. An unconscious snort and splutter that soon turned into a low snore assured us he was.
Twisting unsteadily on his feet, Mason turned to me then. “As I was saying,” he muttered as his tongue tried to wash the blood from his bottom lip. “You’re mine.”
The stack of physics textbooks looked well worn, flipped through a thousand times. I assumed Mason had bought them secondhand from another student. Perhaps he came from a poor family. Perhaps he’d gotten those muscles as a teenager working at the local gas station during summer vacation in some tiny Midwest town, topless as
he pumped gas into old Chevys, his manly hair only just beginning to sprout across his chest as it grew broader by the day. Or perhaps he worked weekends on a building site, lugging bricks to pay his way through college, his large hands lifting, stacking, pulling, jacking. The fact was, I knew nothing about him, had never set eyes on this beautiful buff creature before.
And yet he knew my name.
“Are you comfortable, Ethan?” He seemed nervous now that it was just the two of us. He had washed the blood from his face. Bruises were already forming.
“How did you know my name?” I was sitting uncomfortably on the edge of the bed in his small room, like a nervous child in the house of a strange spider-haired aunt. Only Mason was no spider-haired aunt. Here in his domain, with his bruises and his cuts, he seemed sexier than ever. Yet there I was, meek and utterly intimidated, rubbing my wrists, which had become chafed and swollen from the ropes. I was no longer naked, at least not quite. Mason had generously put a towel around me. He himself was still dressed only in his gym shorts, which seemed to bulge more than ever now that we were alone.
“You’re hurt,” he said, noticing me rubbing my wrists. He successfully avoided my question by sitting on the bed beside me. “May I?” His voice was soft and caring as he took my forearm tenderly in his hands. His own knuckles were red and grazed, yet all his concern was focused on my wrist. He placed my forearm in his lap and I could distinctly feel his dick hardening against my skin. He began massaging my wrist, pressing it slightly into his groin.
I gulped and felt my guard shoot up—where was my woolen vest, my glasses, a book to put my head in? “We should study.” I glanced at the red digits of his old clock radio on the bedside table. It was almost two in the morning. “We’re running out of time. I’m supposed to help you study, remember? You didn’t get the living hell beaten out of you for no reason.”
“No, I didn’t,” he said, and I felt his cock swell even more against my forearm.
I tried to get up, although I didn’t really want to. It was just a polite gesture, a nervous reaction. I pretended to make for the pile of textbooks, but Mason easily pulled me back on the bed.
“You liked watching me fight,” he remarked. He was looking at the pole beneath my towel extending higher and higher. “It turned you on?” he asked, as if not wanting to make the assumption. Humility in the handsome is a rare treat and the ultimate turn-on in my opinion. My shaft shot to its full height beneath the towel.
I managed to conceal the tremor in my voice. “Yes.”
Mason began to blush. “I like watching you, too.”
I was confused. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen you around campus. You’re so…cute. You probably never noticed, but I sit behind you in lectures. One row back and three to the left. Sometimes I follow you after class, at least until you get to the turnoff to your dorm. You’ve always got your head in a book, even when you’re walking, do you know that?”
I nodded, not sure what to say. I was embarrassed, more nervous than ever. Nobody had ever admitted to watching me before. I didn’t think anyone had a reason to. “Why would you watch me?”
Mason shrugged coyly. “I don’t know. Because you’re not like the other guys I hang around with. You’re not like me.”
“Opposites attract.” The words came out of my mouth before I even realized it.
Mason smiled and I could see his heart skip a beat beneath his massive, trimmed chest. “Is that another one of the laws of physics?”
“No, that’s one of the laws of love.” Ouch! I grimaced at my painfully corny one-liner, but Mason just smiled at me adoringly for having said it. Suddenly I suspected somewhere beneath Mason’s hunky, fist-hurling façade was a fan-flapping, eyelid-fluttering, heart-swooning Jane Austen fan.
He was looking into my eyes now, occasionally glancing down just to watch my lips move. “I wish we could sit an exam for those laws.” His face was closer now, moving closer still.
“It’s supposed to be the other way around.” I was whispering now, he was so near to me. “You seem so popular and…and perfect. I’m supposed to be the one watching you. You’re not supposed to know I even exist. Are you just doing this to pass the exam?”
Mason shook his head.
“I don’t get it,” I breathed. “Science is the pursuit of knowledge through experimentation and reason. I need a reason for this. Why do you like me?”
“I can’t give you one. Not everything is science.”
With that he placed his sore, swollen lips on mine and gently kissed me.
Instantly I wanted more. My tongue parted his lips, opening the passage for both our tongues to explore each other’s mouths. He took my jaw in one hand and unwrapped my towel as best he could with the other. I instinctively went for his tightly packed gym shorts, rubbing at the bulge trapped inside. He gasped through our kiss and pulled his mouth away from mine to say, “I’ve wanted this for so long.”
Suddenly I found my courage. I grabbed the back of his head, keeping my adoring alpha male close and said, “Shut up. You sound like a line from my little sister’s diary. Just shut up and fuck me.”
Suddenly Mason’s bruised and battered body rose off the bed, large and looming, and he seized me around the waist. He pulled me to my feet and my erection stabbed him in the stomach. He stole a kiss, then spun me about and dropped to his knees behind me.
I felt instantly vulnerable, blind, unable to see what was happening, uncertain of what I was doing here and yet somehow…safe.
The next thing I felt were his hands parting the round cheeks of my ass to make way for his hot, moist tongue.
My eyelids fluttered, I couldn’t stop them.
Air slithered from my lungs and I didn’t want it to return. I held my breath as that tongue slid up and down my sweaty, hungry crack, pushing against the ring of my anus, flickering inside me briefly, tauntingly, before pulling out again.
I heard him stand.
I gave a long overdue inhale and began breathing again, my head light and spinning.
Mason’s hands slid away from my asscheeks and gripped me by my hips then swiveled me around to face him. He pressed his lips against mine, pushed his tongue inside my mouth and I could taste the sweet yearning of my own ass. My cock was pressed against his hard stomach, and the bulge inside his gym shorts was nudging my balls. I could sense he was in pain, aching to be set free yet waiting for me to have the pleasure of unlocking that cage.
Desire overcame my fears, and I was the one to drop to my knees this time.
My happily quivering fingers hooked the elastic waist of his gym shorts and pulled them down, gradually.
It was like unraveling a treasure map, following the hirsute trail to a beautifully manicured island of dark pubic hair. I could smell the sweet scent of his manly sweat mingling with the aroma of cum, near and inevitable. The plump stem of his shaft appeared, and suddenly my desire to see this cub in all his glory was simply too much to bear.
I stripped the gym shorts down the length of his strapping, hairy thighs and his dick flung itself through the air, missing my face by an inch to slap against his trimmed abs.
If Mason was my muscleman, then this was truly his muscle-cock .
It was massive, thick and sculpted, bursting with veins and heaving with confidence.
It moved up and down in front of my face, as though waiting for my lips to give it guidance, to hold it still and take it in my mouth. I opened my lips, my tongue reaching out, desperate to taste its sweetness. But before I could satiate myself, Mason took my head in his large hands and pulled me to my feet once more.
The bed was behind me and I could feel him backing me ever closer to it. I decided to taunt him in return; I didn’t want to give him that much control, at least not yet. As he tried to maneuver me backward I quickly twisted the two of us around, taking Mason by sweet surprise and forcing him onto the bed.
Mason landed flat on his back on the mattress and courageously I tried to
straddle him.
That’s when he turned the tables once more, rolling quickly onto his side, flipping me onto the mattress. Side by side we continued kissing, elbows and knees and cocks digging into the bed and each other.
In a willing tussle he turned me flat on my back. My stiff cock smacked flat against my stomach and Mason smiled and licked his lips. I took his jaw gently in my hand and kissed his chin. At the same time, he took hold of my cock, low at the shaft, then pulled away from my lips and moved down my body. He crouched over me and pointed my pulsating dick toward his wet open mouth. Then, without another moment’s hesitation, he devoured me whole.
His mouth was wide and hot, the most slippery, sublime haven my cock had ever known. His tongue navigated me around inside him, manipulating me, teasing me, sucking and releasing.
I took his bountiful black locks in both hands to steer the thrust and lunge of his hungry quest. I heard myself moan and in a reflex move Mason picked up the pace, his head bobbing faster and faster up and down my cock.
I could feel the tension welling inside me. The muscles in my hips and buttocks trembled—partly from lack of use, partly from anticipation—as they rose up to meet Mason’s plunging lips. He knew as well as I did that at this pace, I wasn’t going to last long.
My balls began to surge up into my body, but Mason denied them their retreat, grabbing them and pulling them down hard.
A bolt of pain, of sheer ecstasy, rocked my body. I cried out and lurched forward, my balls caught in Mason’s fist, my cock still ramming in and out of his mouth.
Suddenly the muscles in my back clenched tight and arched and with Mason’s head held firmly in my hands the fire, the rush, the explosion filled his mouth, my hot currents coursing into the warm wet tunnel of his throat, swirling around the head of my cock, turning his mouth into a well of cum.
Mason swallowed hard and fast, gulping down one, two, three spasmodic jets of my sweet cum.
I panted and groaned as Mason released my cock from his mouth before he choked. I watched my dick exit his mouth glistening with saliva and cum, even stiffer and thicker and bigger than when it went in. I watched Mason’s mouth gasping for air, my cum overflowing from his lips and oozing onto his strong, stubble-shaded chin.
Best Gay Erotica 2013 Page 18