The question took me by surprise. “Huh?”
“Are you horny?” he repeated.
“Are you?”
“Awfully,” Marton confessed. “I’m aching to get off.”
“So, get off. Jerk yourself.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Not as long as you aim it away from me. Go ahead. Pop your wad. Get it over with.”
“It might be more fun if we—” His voice trailed away, uncertainly. But, drowsy though I was, I got the message, loud and clear.
And, just in case I still had any doubts, his hand was still resting on my bare torso. His fingers explored my pecs, nudging at my nipples.
“Your chest is fucking huge,” he breathed, sounded awed. “Huge … and hard. Damn, you have big, hard tits, too.”
“That feels good,” I whispered. “Keep doing it.”
He toyed with my nipples, which stiffened in response. My cock rose, too, like a tent pole, pushing the blanket up and away from my groin.
My companion was once again breathing hard, and I realized he must be every bit as excited as I was.
I sensed that he was somewhat shy, when it came to sexual matters, and so I prompted him. “What do you want to do?”
“I want you to fuck me,” he confessed, in a breathless rush. “I’ve only done it a couple of times, but I want you to do it to me. You’re so handsome—so built. Don’t worry, I’ve got condoms.”
“Condoms? And you brought them along because—?”
“Because I hoped something like this might happen. When we’re stuck out here in the middle of nowhere on these weekend drills—all the guys get bored and restless, and horny. It’s easy to talk a guy into playing around.”
“And some are easier than others.” I was beginning to suspect that, given a bit of encouragement, Marton wasn’t so shy, after all.
My impression was confirmed when he flung both of our blankets down toward our feet, exposing our bodies from the knees up.
“Let’s get these fucking shorts off,” he urged. “Let’s get naked.”
“I thought you were cold,” I teased him.
“You’ve warmed me up. You’ve gotten me hot. So hot—!” He wriggled out of his shorts, and I did the same.
By now, my eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, and in the gloom of the tent’s interior I could make him our fairly clearly. My cock ached with anticipation when I watched him move, in such close proximity to me. We were now both nude, and I got a good look at his bare ass. His butt was tempting, consisting of twin globes of pale flesh, split by a deep cleft which seemed to invite penetration. When we soldiers had been paired off for this exercise, I’d certainly lucked out. I was going to plow this farm boy!
At the thought, my cock jutted out from my crotch, rigid and throbbing, empurpled with lust. It attracted Marton’s attention.
“Shit!” he exclaimed. “I always thought that you muscle men built up your bodies to compensate for having small dicks.”
“Well, that’s a popular misconception. But a misconception, nevertheless. As you can see,” I bragged.
“I can see it, all right. Nice cock,” he murmured, keeping his eyes focused on my pulsating erection.
“You can do more than just look at it,” I said. “Go ahead and touch it.”
Soon we were playing with each other’s dicks. His cock was good-sized, too, a satisfactory handful. Grunting, we lay there side by side, trading hand jobs, priming our phallic pumps.
I was about to suggest that we proceed to some cocksucking, perhaps a sixty-nine, when Marton broke our tense mutual silence. Evidently, he was so excited that he wanted to skip anything oral, at least for the time being, and move on directly to the anal activity he’d mentioned previously.
“Fuck me,” he pleaded, taking his hand off my dick and moving away from me, but only long enough to search for his discarded clothes. Popping open the snap button on one of his pockets, he pulled out a strip of condoms and a tube of lubricant. “I told you I came prepared.”
“So I see.”
“Let’s do it like this,” he suggested.
As he spoke, he lifted his feet from the sleeping bag and spread his thighs, pulling his knees back to his chest. The position he was now in displayed the pale cheeks of his butt. The lightly haired crack between them was wide open for my inspection.
I knelt between his parted legs and I stared down at what he was offering me. He smiled up at me, a little nervously, but definitely in invitation. Then he reached down with one hand and rubbed his butt crack. I gasped when I watched him rub his fingertips wantonly over his exposed asshole, teasing himself—and me. The puckered aperture twitched and flexed as he massaged it.
“I want you in here,” he informed me. “Deep inside me.”
My eyes almost popped out of their sockets as I stared at him. What he was doing to himself was incredibly sexy to watch. My cock ached in response to what I saw.
He continued to tease me, this time by grabbing the tube of lubricant and squirting out a blob of the clear gel onto his palm. Transferring the gel to his ass crack, he smeared it over his anal pucker.
“This ought to do the trick,” he announced, grinning at me, with a satyr-like glee. “Come on, big guy. Don’t keep me waiting. Put on a rubber and fuck me.”
Jolted out of my erotic reverie by this blatant invitation, I almost leaped toward him. I grabbed the strip of condoms which he’d placed so nonchalantly next to him on the sleeping bag. I tore one open and rolled it down around my fiercely pulsating cockshaft. Like a heat-seeking missile, my phallic weapon aimed itself at the puckered target Marton was offering me.
I felt the trembling circle of his sphincter surrender to me, surrounding the head of my latex-sheathed cock, stretching to accommodate my bulk. He was lying back on the sleeping bag, his eyes half closed, his lips open and quivering.
“In me, stud,” he begged, in a fearful-sounding, tremulous voice. “Oh, put it in me all the way!”
I thrust, burying my manhood inside the heated orifice, with the lube easing my way.
“Oh, yeah,” Marton gasped. “Give me that cock. Get in there and fuck!”
I slid my empurpled ramrod deeper into him, holding his thighs up against his chest, leaning into him as my fuck tool inexorably disappeared inside his ass. Finally, my balls were slapping against his slippery butt crack. My entire cock was enveloped in his steamy anal depths.
“This is so fucking hot,” I managed to grunt out, staring down at my fellow soldier’s flushed face.
He tried to grin again, but I could detect a tension in his facial features. His eyes were narrow, his jaw tight, and his lips quivered. He was stuffed with my cock, and I suspected the sensation wasn’t entirely comfortable for him. Despite all the whorish abandon he’d displayed a moment ago, before I’d put it in him, he now groaned and tossed his head, biting his lip and half-closing his eyes.
I was just about to ask him whether I was indeed hurting him, and did he want me to ease up, when he began to wriggle his ass provocatively around the thick, inflexible shaft of my cock. I let out a gasp as he milked me with his anal muscles. Then, encouraged by his receptiveness, I began to fuck him again, not sparing him. He moved right along with me. He humped himself on my dick, pulling away from me only to shove himself toward me again, squeezing me with his anal muscles at the same time. He twisted his butt, too, massaging my aching hard-on as though he had it clasped in a greasy, slippery fist.
“Oh, big dick, you goddamn muscle stud,” he moaned. “Oh, big dick shoved up my ass! Fuck me—fuck me!”
“Keep that ass open and take my cock,” I advised him.
Words then failed us. We muttered incoherently, our eyes half-closed, both of us concentrating on the junction of our bodies, while his ass rode my cock. He was subjecting me to an exquisite torture with that slow, steady grinding of his butt. His anus felt like a hot, moist, slippery mouth, engulfing and sucking my dick!
At last, I could no longer take it. I
reared back, and with my hands still clutching his thighs, I stared down at the lewd sight of my cock plowing deep into his butthole. I began to fuck him much more aggressively, pumping in and out of him with fierce, hard thrusts, enjoying the sight of my dick invading his helpless, willingly surrendered asshole. It gaped open for my cock, a hungry orifice stuffed full and twitching for more. I fed him all I had, and he lustfully took it from me. He was grunting and squirming. Mad with desire, I drilled him even more violently.
But I didn’t want to come. Not yet—not so soon.
I forced myself to pull out, and Marton squealed in protest. I pacified him by kissing him, and by treating him to a long, lingering tongue-fuck while our mouths remained glued together. We swapped out spit.
Our cocks, compressed between our bellies, twitched in agitation. They seemed to possess minds of their own, and at the moment they were begging, mutely, for the relief which only ejaculation could provide. But I’d succeeded in holding off my orgasm, for the moment. My heartbeat slowed back to something like normal as Marton rubbed my back and buttocks with his hands, and I did the same to him. His body was smooth and very hard, which excited me. His very firmness made the yielding opening of his asshole all the more inviting. I slid two of my fingers in and out of his asshole, exploring it, while he moaned against my mouth.
“Go ahead. Fuck me some more,” he finally mumbled against my lips.
“Oh, yeah,” I moaned.
Marton turned in my arms, and then he raised himself a bit. This time, he crouched on one knee with one foot up, his ass once again wide open. I leaned back and admired him. In this position, his buttocks swelled out in perfect roundness, the cheeks plump mounds of creamy white. Big dimples indented the sides, and the chunky flesh curved outward seductively from his narrow waist. He had the kind of ass which was made to be fucked, and I wasn’t the man to resist it.
I reached down and caressed those big twin globes. The taut muscles were smooth and hot to my touch. My fingers traced their way into the butt crack and they found the moist, gaping hole. Two of my fingers once again slid deep inside the anal pucker. Marton moaned and arched his back, his asshole tightening around my fingers. I pushed them in and out of him, feeling his anal flesh tense and quiver in response.
“Hot ass,” I complimented him.
Our eyes met as he turned his head and stared back at me. He had a look of pure lust and physical need written all over his face. He was mine to fuck, ready to give himself unreservedly to me.
“I have to fuck you again,” I warned him. “I have to have some more of that ass!”
I wasn’t exaggerating. My need was acute. I had to be inside him again!
“Go ahead,” he whimpered. “Take me. Fuck my hole!”
I thrust up with my cock, my fingers still planted inside him. My cockhead easily slid in beside my fingers. He grunted and he pushed backward with his hips, arching his back even more. I could hardly believe how readily his asshole yielded to me. I had both of my fingers inside his stretched-open anal aperture as I shoved my whole cock into him. He was totally open for me. His ass flesh parted, surrendering itself willingly to my deep-penetrating cock. Furthermore, his anal muscles seemed to wrap themselves snugly around my shaft, holding it within him with a torrid, greedy possessiveness. I wasn’t sure whether I was using his ass, or he was using my cock. It didn’t really matter. Either way, we were both receiving intense pleasure.
“Come on, soldier,” he demanded. “Fuck! Fuck that hole!”
“I am fucking it.”
“Pretend I’m the enemy, and that dick of yours is a bayonet. Tear me wide open. Rip me apart!”
“Damn right! Die, you bastard! Die!”
“Kill me with that cock!”
I pumped my cock into his ass, burying myself in him to my balls, withdrawing part of the way, and then plunging back into him. I could feel my shaft sliding in and out of him between my fingers. It felt fantastic, but it still wasn’t enough to satisfy me. I wanted more. I used my other hand to reach around his waist and stroke his torso. I ran my palm up and down his firm chest and rippled stomach. I pumped his thick cock and I tweaked his swollen nipples. I massaged his dangling balls, and then I took a firm hold on them, using them as a handle to pull his butt back around my steadily driving shaft. I had my cock in him, and my fingers, and at the same time my fist worked his dick. I was fucking his entire body, hard and fast and rough.
He took it like a man. He squirmed and moaned nonstop in response to my unrelenting assault. Outside the tent, the rain still fell heavily. I could hear it bouncing off the top and the sides of our flimsy shelter. One thing had changed for the better, though. We were no longer cold. Our bodies were hot with the heat of sex, dripping perspiration.
We went on fucking, my fingers and my cock reaming out his willingly surrendered asshole without any letup, while he writhed and shuddered in my embrace. We were locked together, and we were both racing toward orgasm. My cock probed his manhole faster—harder—deeper. The friction of his anal pucker around my prickshaft seemed to madden us. Our movements became more frenzied. We both cried out incoherently, and then it hit us. We were coming!
My body wrenched in spasms as my jism rose from my balls and shot through the core of my cock. I spewed my load deep inside his guts, the condom wrapped around my ramrod the only thing containing my warm, wet semen.
His bunghole went into a series of violent convulsions around me. His dick swelled, and then it suddenly discharged its load, all over my fingers. I pumped him dry while I held my cock inside him until I was spent myself. We emptied ourselves of our lust.
Afterward, Marton was the first to stir. He disengaged himself cautiously from me, easing my cock out of his ass, and turning around to stroke my sweaty neck and kiss me on the mouth. We settled down on the sleeping bags and pulled the blankets over us. We lay there together in the dark in each other’s arms. My cock was getting hard again, and I suspected we would make love again before we had to get up in the morning. But I forced myself to ignore my tumescence, for the time being, and try to go to sleep.
Outside, the rain was still drumming down on our tent. But, snuggled up next to Marton, I was at least warm and dry—to say nothing of sexually satisfied, for the time being.
I was beginning to think that military life had its advantages.
Chapter Six: My Porn Debut
I got into porn by accident, giving it a try more or less for the hell of it. Ironically, I owe my career in the adult video industry to a guy I didn’t have sex with.
His name was Robert, and he trained at the same gym in Budapest to which I belonged. He was a good-looking guy with a great body, so of course I was attracted to him. But he was one of those bodybuilders who seem to be lost in their own private world while they’re working out. I never saw him cruise anybody, and he kept to himself. He wasn’t unfriendly, and on several occasions we exchanged a few words. But I could tell he came to the gym to work out, not to socialize, and I respected that. I had much the same philosophy, after all.
One day, though, we both happened to be in the locker room at the same time, getting dressed after our workouts. I was trying not to be too obvious as I ogled his body, comparing his muscles to mine—not without a hint of envy.
“How’d it go today?” Robert asked me, casually.
“Pretty good. I pushed myself a little. I know I’m going to be sore tomorrow, but it’ll be worth it.”
He grunted. “Same here. Hey, tell me something, will you?”
“Sure. What?”
“You’re gay, aren’t you?”
I saw no reason to deny it. “Yeah.”
He grunted again. “I thought so. Oh, don’t get me wrong. You aren’t obvious about it—nothing like that. But I’ve been hit on often enough to know a gay guy when I see one.”
I wasn’t quite certain what to say. So I just stood there, smiling at him. I was already anticipating that he was going to proposition me—in which case, of
course, I intended to accept his offer to have sex with him, gratefully.
I could already imagine us going either to his place, or mine. Getting naked together in the privacy of a bedroom. Me, exploring his physique with my hands, my mouth, and my tongue. Sucking on his cock, to get it good and hard, in preparation for—!
But my fond hopes were soon dashed.
“I’m not queer, myself,” he declared. “But what the hell? Live and let live, that’s what I always say. Maybe I can do you a favor. You might be interested in this deal this guy offered me the other day. He was a foreigner—he spoke English, but he had another guy with him, to translate. Anyway, I was just walking down the street, minding my own business, when they came right up to me. And the foreign dude wanted to know if I’d ever done any modeling. I told him no. Then he asked me if I’d be interested in doing any modeling—in the nude. Again, I said no. The son of a bitch was awfully goddamn persistent. Next thing I know, he’s telling me, through the interpreter, that he’s here in Budapest to make a gay porn movie, and would I be interested in doing that? I told him, ‘hell, no,’ and I was almost tempted to tell him to ‘fuck off,’ too, but I caught myself and was polite. He looked so disappointed that I actually felt sorry for him. So I told him I knew a guy—namely, you—who works out at the same gym as I do, and who’s probably gay, and who I know for a fact has done some nude modeling. So he, I mean you, might be interested.”
“Wow,” I exclaimed, under my breath.
“He got all hot and bothered. Asked me a lot of questions about you. I didn’t tell him your name, of course. But I did tell him you’ve won a lot of physique contests, and that you’re a good-looking guy with a really great build.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s no more than the truth. I may not be gay, but I’m not blind, either. The upshot was, the foreign dude gave me his card, and I told him I’d give it to you. I have it here somewhere—” Robert rummaged in his wallet, and finally pulled out the business card, which he handed to me. “Here you go. Now, listen,” he warned me. “I don’t know anything about this guy. He talked big, but he could be on the level, or he could be full of shit. For all I know, this is some sort of a rip-off. If you decide to call him, and it goes badly, don’t blame me.”
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