Boys Will Be Boys - Their First Time

by Mickey Erlach

  “Fuck me Ash, fuck me,” Joe whispered through labored breaths.

  Ash heard and obeyed, fucking his friend with new determination.

  “You’re so fucking tight,” Ash gasped mid stroke.

  Ash suddenly slowed and leaned into Joe’s face, their lips meeting first only briefly, but then Ash came back in closer. And, they kissed frantically and deeply like lovers, tongues and lips finding each other’s mouths, all the while Ash kept gently caressing the insides of Joe’s ass with his smooth, thick cock.

  Joe was in heaven. He could do this all day, but at the same time, he desperately wanted to cum, and he wanted to make Ash cum as well. Ash pulled himself up and grabbed Joe’s rock hard erection in his hand. Ash started to pound Joe’s stuffed hole with even more power then before. Pulling his thick dick out almost all the way and thrusting into Joe’s tight ass deep and fast, repeatedly.

  “I’m going to blow,” Ash gasped as he pulled on Joe’s oozing cock with fervor and fucked his hairless smooth ass like an animal. Both Joe and Ash simultaneously exploded, releasing the biggest loads either had ever blown before.

  Ash collapsed on top of Joe, and they lay there for a time, moist and sticky catching there breaths.

  “Thanks Joe, that was awesome,” Ash said as he removed his softening cock from Joe’s worn ass and got off the bed. Joe just lay there smiling while watching Ash clean the lube and cum from his body before getting dressed.

  “Shit! Joe you got to go, its 2.30!” Ash exclaimed noticing the time on the clock.

  Joe climbed out of bed exhausted but exhilarated. He wiped himself dry and glanced at the clock. He would have to hurry back to school in order to catch the bus on time. Joe hastily got dressed as Ash disappeared into another room. By the time Ash returned, Joe was fully dressed and heading for the door.

  “Does that mean I owe you a shirt?” Ash asked jokingly, looking at the now button-less one that Joe wore.

  Joe laughed back abashed and just he shook his head.

  “No, its on the house,” he replied, closing the shirt to hide his manly chest momentarily in mock modesty, before letting it rest open with a shrug of his shoulders.

  “I’ll find the buttons and give them to you next time I see you,” Ash said through laughter.

  Joe looked at his watch. “It’s ok; you don’t have to come back to school with me.” Joe insisted.

  “Thanks,” Ash replied, “I’m exhausted.”

  “I’m feeling pretty fucked myself,” Joe replied, and they both broke into laughter again at Joe’s unintentional joke. Joe chuckled as he headed down the hall to the front door.

  As Joe was about to leave the house, Ash stopped him, giving him a kiss on the cheek and a huge hug before he placed a piece of paper in Joe’s hand.

  “This is my number and address Joe. I hope now we can be friends like before?”

  Joe smiled, nodded and pocketed the note.

  “I’ll have to see you to get my buttons back anyway,” Joe called as he dashed out the door and hurried toward the school.

  Joe knew that Ash wasn’t going to be his boyfriend and that they would probably never have sex again. Joe truly was thankful to Ash for being such a good friend, for taking his virginity and making him a man. As Joe approached the waiting bus for the last time, he realized that he would contact Ash again soon and that their friendship would be stronger than ever now that Joe could truly be himself in Ash’s company.

  Joe smiled to himself as he climbed aboard the bus. His last day of school had been his best day of school and his first day as a proud gay man.

  Six One Thousand

  By R.A. Padgett

  “… six one thousand, seven one thousand, eight one thousand, nine one thousand – -come on, you pussy! One more – give it to me! Give me that last one – yeah boy, come on, fuck yeah!”

  The fucker wasn’t going to let me off easy, was he? Sometimes I hated him – when he would push me into hating him. This whole love-hate cycle was driving me up a wall. I wanted what he had to give. I wanted my flabby, out of shape body to look like his. I knew I was stuck with certain traits, my short, stocky body would never conform to, say, the Amazonian body I idealized that I lusted after. But this man, my coach had that sort of body; tall, built like a brick shithouse, amber eyes that could bore right through you and the smoothest, chocolate satin skin stretched taut over his perfectly proportioned frame. Not muscle-bound at all but a body that was well trained and beautifully toned. But right now I hated him. Right now he could go straight to hell, and I wouldn’t bat an eyelash. Right now, he could go fuck himself!

  “One more set on the bars. I know you want to give it to me. Let’s go, Buddy.” I always just melted when he called me Buddy – he must have known this as he always ended our sessions by calling me this, and I always forgave him for his tirades. On the last set, I was sweatin’ like a pig, and I looked up at him spotting me and got an eyeful of his crotch, which only made me want to push myself further. I lusted after this man in the worst way, and damn if he didn’t know it and use it against me – “You did real good, buddy – I’m proud of you and all your work is starting to show … time to shower up now … hop to it!”

  It was difficult to look him in the eye, but inside I felt proud of myself and warm all over. As I trudged to the locker room, my legs all rubbery and lightheaded, I opened the door and smelled that moist testosterone as I walked in. I turned the corner to my locker just in time to glance at Coach as he bent over to remove his shorts leaving a sparkling white jockstrap framing his beautiful ass. Bent over, I got a great view of his nuts partially escaping the same pouch I salivated over just moments ago. Standing up, he turned to see me staring at him before I could avert my eyes – gave me a little smile and continued with the unintentional striptease, my heart racing. I’m sure my face was beet red. I stood there slack-jawed as he stripped off his jock, freeing a beautiful piece of man meat overhanging two incredible, pendulous balls – over ripe and ready for the picking. As he turned to go to the showers, I couldn’t take my eyes off him until he was out of sight.

  I looked down at my own crotch that was obviously tented and then to the floor where he had left his jock curled up among his other clothes – beckoning me, inviting me to come take a whiff. I couldn’t help myself – I had to get at it. I carefully made my way to this treasure. As I brought it up to my nose, I inhaled deeply almost as I would a drug.

  Fuckin’ A! This rank, sweaty aroma was everything I expected and more. Intoxicated I fell backwards against the bench, grabbing on my way down a locker door that banged loudly. I heard the shower shut down and coach yelled out, “Are you okay?”

  Gathering myself together I replied that “yeah I was fine!” Panicked, I threw down the still warm jock, and it landed, sitting there so obvious on top of his other clothes. But it was too late.

  Coach rounded the corner with a towel wrapped around his waist asking, “What’s up? Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah – I mean yes, I’m fine, sir,” I replied. Thank God the panic actually helped me and my boy dick calm down, but not without leaving a noticeable wet spot on the front of my briefs. My face bright red; I looked down at my feet as I continued to pull my sweats up around my thighs. “Aren’t you gonna shower, kid??” he asked.

  “No sir, I have to get home fast … uh, I mean soon.”

  His eyes boring right through to my soul, he said, “Well I’ll tell you what, kid, obviously you are in need of some more intense training, so what do you say we crank it up a notch? You may not like what I have to say at first, but you will thank me in the long run. We are going to be doing something a little different from now on. We will begin and end our workouts in the pool. You will lap swim for forty-five minutes both before and after our sessions, as a warm-up and cool-down. This next thing, and I need you to trust me on this one, I want you to shave tonight when you shower. I want all the hair off your chest, crotch and legs – not a single hair left on your bod
y! Do you hear?”

  This last thing was said with more authority then I was used to from this man.

  “You can use a little talc tonight after your shower – this will help with the itch. Get a good night’s sleep because you are gonna need to be rested for tomorrow. Meet me at one-thirty instead of three. We are gonna get that shag of yours cut off. You are to have your hair cropped at half inch on the sides and one inch on the top. You will keep it this way from now on.”

  He was testing me. I knew it. I was powerless.

  What was I willing to give up for this man and for the body I wanted, I craved? I had been working for a couple of years on getting rid of my flabby physique and turning it into a classical marble sculpture before I noticed his ad as a personal trainer, which was just what I needed to go on to the next level. That was months ago, and the dedication and discipline he had instilled in me was indeed showing. I was getting a lot of notice by both women and men at work as well as on the street. My shoulders straightened up, and I started walking with not quite a strut but more or less a confident stride. This made all the difference in the world. I felt better then I ever had about myself, and I wanted this to continue. Besides, what would it hurt to follow his directions for a time, just to see what happened?

  “And as for these,” he grabbed the waist band of my briefs, his fingers creeping inside, grazing my piss slit, “You will lose these panties and start wearing boxers like a man. You will enjoy the feeling of your equipment swaying back and forth as you walk.” He quickly let go and the waistband of my jockeys snapped back and slapped the head of my erect dick, causing a small moan; more like a whimper to escape my throat. He brought his fingers up and licked the precum that had gathered on them. “Now be a good boy and clean up this mess!” With that he put on his socks, slacks, and shirt – no underwear – and stormed out into the evening.

  I was shocked and stunned. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. It was if he had reached into the dark recesses of my mind, grasped my hidden fantasies and wrung them dry for his pleasure. My mind was reeling. A moment later someone entered the locker room and yanked me back to reality. I finished dressing and tucked my things into my backpack and stuffed his stuff into his gym bag.

  Turning in my key, the receptionist quipped, “Looks like your friend left you a little present,” and winked knowingly. I guess he noticed I came in with just my backpack but left with much more. I blushed red hot, and I was sure this wouldn’t be the last time.

  That night, noticeably shaken, I succeeded in making myself a brief meal. Just a power shake and tuna on rye. Then sat down to watch some tube. Increasingly distracted by my thoughts, after about an hour, I decided to turn the damn thing off. Actually I couldn’t remember anything at all of what I had just watched. I sat for a while in the silence. Just a few years ago, I was doughy, plump, depressed and lacked any real energy at all. Today, I had energy plus and thrived on life – actually thrived! In the last year, I had decided I needed a little sumpin’ extra from having a trainer and went through a couple before I stumbled on Sam – he wanted to be called Coach – in the want ads. There was something more to him than what showed on the outside. He seemed genuine and well rounded. He believed in integrating all aspects of your life including exercise, mental focus, diet and spirituality. He had a certain sadness that made me want to explore his depths. He certainly turned my world around.

  Today, I feel alive and rejuvenated. I feel more comfortable in my own skin and more attuned to my emotions, creativity and fantasies. At least that was what I had thought! As I was thinking, my mind kept going back to that vision of that beautiful dark ass. I wanted to see it, taste it, feel it. I wanted to dive neck deep into it! My dick sure needed some attention.

  I wondered whether I could do what he had asked of me. I guess more demanded from me. Coach really liked to test my limits and make me reach beyond my grasp. “The only way to grow,” he would say. This though was something new, kind of humbling, humiliating, yet exciting. I wasn’t sure if I could do this.

  Turning down the living room lights, almost in a trance, I went into the bathroom, stripping off my street clothes and throwing them into the hamper. Coach’s bag fell down from where I had put it when I came in the door. A rush went through me like a warm chill as I stared at the bag. When I unzipped it, the contents fell out onto the tiled floor. I brought his shirt up and sniffed at where his pits had been, the aroma nearly knocking me over from my squatting stance. It was wonderfully heady, unmistakably a man’s odor. I couldn’t keep from frantically grabbing his jock and binging that to my nose, too. I loved the smell of this man. I touched it to my lips, my tongue darting out to taste that sweet tang. My mouth by now seriously salivating, it didn’t take much to shove the whole pouch into my mouth. My dick was rock hard and starting to drip again. I brought a finger full of my precum to my lips, the same scum he had tasted just hours before. I licked it slowly bridging it from my tongue to my fingertips. I needed this! I needed him … in the worst way!

  Gaining some control, I began putting his stuff back in his bag, but there on the bottom of the bag was an small manila envelope with my name, Chris, unassumingly taped to the black bottom, it stood out like a gold ticket in a candy bar, beckoning me. Without too much thought, I grabbed it and ripped it open at the seam. What fell out was a link, just a single platinum link of a chain and note that read, “IN THE BEGINNING …”

  That fucker! He had to have known, the son of a bitch planted this before we even got to the gym today. So fuckin’ full of himself! Who does he think he is? A wave of fear swept over me, no not fear – more like trepidation for what I thought, (and apparently) he knew what lie ahead. I’ll show that two can play at this game. I started my bath water getting it a little hotter than would be comfortable and brought out my clippers. I started trimming away. I’ll show that son of a bitch. I used the number-one guard on the clippers and trimmed off all the hair on my chest, pits and pubes. I gathered my tools and stepped into the bath with a three-pack of disposable razors, a can of shaving cream and a couple of washcloths. Slowly lowering myself into the hot water I soaked for a couple of minutes before beginning what turned out to be an hour and a half procedure. I had done this before for swim team in high school as had a majority of my teammates, so it didn’t bother me as much as he probably thought it would. After nicking myself a couple of times, I decided to slow down and enjoy the process. I started with my legs and went on to my chest, armpits and butt. I started to shave my pubes and stopped short of it. I ended up shaving around my balls and up the shaft of my dick. I left a patch of hair above my dick, kind of a fuck you statement and let the water out of the tub, which only ended up leaving a mass of stray hairs all over. Steeping back in, I got the handheld and sprayed down my body and the tub surround. Using the shower, I squatted down and paid particular attention to my ass and balls. The water strumming against them felt incredible.

  I got out and dried off thoroughly, opening the bathroom door to let some of the steam out. Wiping down the mirror, I was surprised to see how my body looked after denuding all that hair. My muscles that I had worked so hard at looked more defined. I could see the beginning of a six-pack, (a four-pack really) starting to show up. The cleft in my butt cheeks and the shadow of my overhanging chest showed proud and proper. I ran around the apartment buck ass naked for a while to try and cool off. The air against my body felt so fucking good! I wished I had done this earlier. After having a snack, I returned to the bathroom and liberally dusted myself with talcum. My skin turned satiny soft and smooth as – you’ll forgive the analogy – a baby’s bottom. I shook off the excess powder and trotted off to bed.

  I was excruciatingly tired, probably from the workout along with the mental, emotional strain. After setting my alarm. It didn’t take long for me to drift off to sleep.

  Sometime in the middle of the night, I awoke with a fierce hard on, humping the crisp, cool sheets, fucking the air with an animal lust. The sheets b
ehind me creeping into the crack of my ass, the ones before me encapsulating my dick like a French whore. My moaning and groaning interrupted only by one word – a mantra of sorts. “Coach” “Please, Coach,” “Ugh, coach!”

  I went over the edge bucking the sheets and biting, crying into my pillow. I came with a vengeance, crying out loudly, the white-hot slag pulsing out of my dick, into the bed sheets and soaking my belly. “Fuck yeah! Take that you fuckin’ dickhead,” “Jesus H Christ! I yes, I cum fuck! Fuck yeah, please I need it!” “I need you!”

  My heart was racing, trying to keep up with me, and I’m sure that if someone was around to take my blood pressure, I would have blown the circuits in the machine. Holy shit! That felt good! I got up and blindly sopped up the majority of my splooge with a towel and trudged to the living room with a blanket and my alarm clock in tow. I slept soundly for the rest of the night.

  I woke up refreshed and revitalized, drank me a quick cup of brew and tore the sheets off my bed, starchy pile that they were, stacking them in my hamper along with assorted underwear, socks and shirts. I took a fresh set of sheets out and proceeded to make my bed. Damn, I was in a good mood. I couldn’t just waste away such a beautiful day. I called my friend, Ken, and set up at time to meet with him for lunch. After dropping my laundry off at my favorite cleaners and doing some shopping, I made my way to Barney’s, our local eatery.

  Ken knew me like the back of his hand, and it didn’t take him long to figure out that something was up. After grilling me for about a half hour, I finally relented and told him my story.

  “I don’t know what kinda spell this guy has over me, but my dick gets half-hard just having him around me.” Ken didn’t offer any suggestions. He wasn’t big on offering suggestions, but he was a great sounding board, letting me go on until I was empty. Afterward, I felt ashamed and excused myself curtly. After all, I had an appointment to keep.

  After picking up the two loads of laundry, I arrived early. As I was pulling into the parking lot, I found him there, eyeing his pocket watch. I jumped out of the car, grabbing the laundry and shuffled toward him, shyly watching the sidewalk as I came up to him. With a grunt, he directed me to get into his car saying we had somewhere to go and didn’t have much time. I don’t think I looked at him at all until we came to a stop in front of a barbershop that looked out of place in the middle of this stretch of high-rises. The sign outside read “Buzz cuts $15.00.” I looked over at him, and he pointed his eyes at the sign then back to my eyes again. Once more, a small whimper escaped my throat.