Wild Boys

by Richard Labonté

  He shrugs. “I like older men. And you were always really nice to me at our family gatherings. You’re very attractive, Mike. Come on, it’s okay. I’m not going to change my mind once we start.”

  I take a breath then lean forward and kiss him, hard. My tongue fills his mouth, wrestles with his own, then eases back over my lips, inviting his in for more. We kiss for a long time, tongues battling back and forth, mouths gasping, practically chewing at each other. I feel the muscles in his back move with his body and then slide my hands around to his chest. Football has filled him out, built up his torso. I unbutton his shirt and run my hands through the dark red hair on his chest, over his square pecs to pinch his small, round nipples. They harden into points that I tug on as Brady gasps and moans against my mouth.

  “Oh, fuck,” he says, leaning back to allow my hands to caress him. “That feels really good.”

  “You’ve got an amazing body,” I tell him, my eyes roving his pale, muscular torso. His stomach is flat and ripped with muscle, the hair narrowing to a happy trail that disappears beneath the waist of his pants. I plant my fingers around his navel and press down to open it up then lean forward, darting my tongue into its salty depths. Brady gasps and lays a large, warm palm on the back of my head as I lick and suck at his navel. I move my mouth slowly up his stomach to his chest where I take each hardened nipple between my lips. I suck them, hard, and tug on them with my teeth as he squirms and moans beneath me.

  Brady, meanwhile, has pulled my shirt from my pants and unbuttons it, spreading it open and sliding his hands inside to massage my hairy chest and belly. His fingers twist my nipples and I grunt against his chest.

  “You’ve got a hot body, Mike,” he says. “You must work out.”

  “Gotta keep the goods in shape so they can be put on display once in a while,” I reply and he laughs.

  “Let’s go into the bedroom,” he suggests. “I want to see you naked.”

  My mind is no longer screaming for me to stop, throwing up warning klaxons and flashing neon signs; my cock has overridden whatever logic may have existed and guides my body as I push up from the couch, my shirt hanging open. I take Brady’s hand and lead him down the hall to the bedroom where I switch on a couple of low-watt lamps in the corners and turn back to where he stands beside the bed, still clothed, waiting for me.

  “You’re gorgeous,” I say as I step up to him, my voice quiet and eyes serious.

  “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing,” Brady replies.

  “What, that you’re gorgeous?” I murmur, running my tongue around his ear.

  He chuckles. “No, that you’re gorgeous.” His fingers slide beneath my shirt and ease it from my shoulders to fall on the floor. He moves his hands down over my chest and belly, parting the hair before his fingers and stopping to twist my nipples and squeeze my pecs.

  I mirror his move, sliding his shirt off and feeling his chest, and lean forward to kiss him, softly at first then more insistent. He wraps his arms around my neck and pulls our bodies together, his hips grinding against mine and pressing his firm cock alongside my own erection.

  Unable to take it any longer, I break our embrace and fall to my knees before him. My mouth is dry as I fumble with the buckle on his belt, finally getting it open and undoing the button and zipper on his khakis. His pants fall around his ankles and I find myself staring at the overflowing pouch of a jockstrap.

  “Oh, god,” I groan. “That is so fuckin’ hot.”

  “I thought you’d like it.” He moves his hips forward, pressing the thin, stuffed cotton against my mouth. “I wore it while I was working out this week. Haven’t washed it yet.”

  My own cock jumps as I open my mouth and run my lips and tongue over the sweaty pouch damp with his precum. I bite softly along the length of his dick, pressing my tongue against the straining cotton as I move up and down the shaft. He is at least seven inches long, and thick. I reach the top of his jock and find the fat, bulging head peeking up from beneath the waistband. The smooth, silky skin glistens with precum, inviting me to run my tongue across its surface. Brady groans, pressing his hands against the back of my head.

  I peel the waistband of his jock down and release the confined serpent. His cock stands straight up along his belly, almost reaching his navel. The dark red bush around the base spreads out to a thick forest that runs down along his muscular, powerful legs. I stare at the gorgeous dick before me as I reach to lift each of his feet and pull the jock and his pants off. I then peel off his socks and run my hands along the tops of his large, handsome feet, up along the bulges of his calves, across the hairy expanse of his thighs until they meet at the V in his crotch. I tightly grab hold of his pulsing cock and pull down until it is pointing right at my face. Leaning in, I open my mouth and take him down my throat, tasting the slick of precum left behind along my tongue.

  “Oh, fuck,” Brady gasps. “You sucked that fucker right down to the root. Oh, god.”

  His hips begin to move and soon he is fucking my face, his fingers snarled in clumps of my hair. I reach down to free my own cock from its prison of boxer-brief cotton and stroke myself as Brady’s dick slides in and out between my lips.

  He grunts, a deep, animal sound that makes my balls clench with desire, and suddenly my mouth is filled with the sharp taste of his cum. He pulls my face in tight against his body, my nose buried in his sweaty bush, and empties his balls down my throat. I greedily swallow his load, relishing the taste of his spunk as my hand moves faster along my cock.

  “Don’t cum yet,” he gasps. “I want you to cum on my face.”

  He slowly pulls his cock from between my lips and helps me to my feet. His hands push my pants down and I step out of them as he leads me to the bed where he stretches out on his back. I kneel on the mattress and position myself over him in push-up position, my stiff cock pointing down right over his open, eager mouth. I ease my hips down and he closes his lips around my shaft, sucking hard as I begin to fuck his face. He reaches up and begins to pull on my nipples, an act that pushes me even closer to the edge of orgasm.

  Just as I’m reaching the point of no return, I sit up and back on his chest, pulling my cock from his mouth. He watches as I stroke my dick, slick with his spit, my eyes locked on his. His mouth, full lips wet and parted, is open, ready to take my load, and the sight flips my switch.

  “I’m cumming,” I moan and feel Brady’s hands tighten on my thighs in anticipation. My stroking narrows to the magic spot just beneath the head of my cock and I aim it down just as the first surge of semen spurts forth. The shot splatters across his cheek and he groans. The rest of my load floods his mouth and halfway through I stuff my cock between his lips, leaning back as he suckles it greedily, eyes closed, fingers gripping my sweaty thighs.

  A few minutes go past and I finally roll off him, reluctantly pulling my dick from his soft, sticky lips. I lie beside him, my arm around his shoulders as he rolls against me, his head on my chest and shoulder in my armpit. We are a perfect fit.

  “Do you want to clean up?” I ask through a yawn. The turkey and the sex have ganged up on my middle-aged stamina: I am exhausted.

  “No, I like the feel of your cum drying on my face.” Brady kisses my chest and reaches down to squeeze my softened cock, pushing drops of clear fluid up out of it.

  We fall asleep like that and lie peacefully until I startle awake several hours later. The room is darker, the sun has set by now, and I look down at Brady’s soft, unlined face, so young, so open and calm in sleep. He stirs a little and his eyes blink open, confused for a moment until he raises his head and sees me, then he smiles broadly and my heart jumps in my chest.

  “Hi,” he says, running his tongue over his teeth. “How long were we asleep?”

  “Awhile,” I say vaguely. “Want to take a shower?”

  He nods and follows me into the bathroom. I have a large, glassed-in shower with two showerheads and a built-in bench along the side. We step beneath the hot spray and take tu
rns lathering each other up. His large hands, so nimble with the football, are soft and find all the right places to get me hard again.

  I turn him to face away from me and run soap over his wide shoulders, down the ridges of his spine and over the round, tight mounds of his ass. I nudge the pulsing wrinkle of his anus with a soapy finger and Brady immediately lifts a foot to the bench, opening his asscheeks and allowing me access to his asshole. With slow, delicate movements I slide my index finger into him and watch as he tips his head back, the hot water bouncing off his firm chest.

  “Oh, yeah,” Brady groans. “Get it in deep.”

  I oblige, fucking his ass with my index finger as I reach up to turn his face so I can kiss him. We stay that way for several minutes, my finger pumping into his ass while our tongues grapple together between our mouths.

  “I want you to fuck me,” he sighs. “I want your dick to be the first one inside me.”

  Eager to satisfy his request and my fantasy, I switch off the water and grab two towels. We kiss as we dry off, our hands straying to touch, fondle, squeeze each other. My eyes devour the sight of his muscular, long-limbed body as my cock twitches and leaks precum.

  Brady drops to his knees to suck my cock deep for a moment, licking it clean of precum. He gets to his feet, kisses me then leads me back to the bed.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asks, his eyes glowing.

  I do not hesitate. “Lie on your back and raise your legs.”

  He follows my orders and I lean down to feast on his tender, virgin asshole. My fingers spread his anus to allow my tongue admission to the hot, damp darkness hidden behind his beautiful rosebud. I lick and suck, spitting into the reddened opening and slipping one, two, then three fingers into him.

  “Goddamn,” Brady groans, turning his head side to side. “Get those fingers up inside me. Yeah, that’s it.”

  “Ready for something bigger?” I ask, my voice deep with longing.

  “Give it to me,” he says and looks up at me. “I want your cock in me. I’ve fantasized about this for years.”

  I don’t need any more convincing. I grab a condom from the nightstand and roll it onto my throbbing prick then squirt a large helping of lube across it. I pull Brady to the edge of the bed and take hold of his ankles, pushing them back over his head to lift his hips and bring his asshole up to the height of my crotch. Brady reaches down to take hold of my cock, wraps his fingers around its girth for a moment before directing it to the spit-slippery threshold of his body.

  I take it slow, pressing firmly into him for a few moments then pulling back, feeling his body gradually relax around my invading member. Brady keeps his eyes on my face and concentrates on loosening the muscles in his rectum as I slide slowly in and out of his hole.

  “Does that feel okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah, it feels good. Go deeper.”

  I press harder on my next thrust and stop three quarters of the way inside him at a muscular blockade. Brady gasps and closes his eyes then laughs a little.

  “Sorry, I guess I wasn’t ready.”

  I pull back, the head of my cock just inside his sphincter, and ask, “Ready now?”

  He nods and closes his eyes as his fingers tighten their grip on his legs just above the knees. “Yeah. Drive that fucker in.”

  Slowly, very slowly, I penetrate his spreading sphincter. His rectal muscles part before the rounded head of my cock and, with a last, deep push, I am embedded completely within him.

  “Oh, fuck,” he says. “You are fucking huge. Oh, god!”

  I pull back and begin to fuck him, my hips starting slow but picking up speed until I find myself banging his ass like some kind of porn star. Sweat flies from my forehead and I watch his balls bounce with each of my thrusts. Brady takes the brunt of my fucking with his mouth gaping open, eyes closed, hard cock bumping up and down along his flat belly.

  “Oh, god,” he moans again. “You’re fucking the cum right out of me. Oh, fuck.”

  I look down to watch as his dick jumps and cum sprays up to his chest. He has not touched himself; his hands are still clasping his legs. The sight of his hands-free cum shot gets me going and I throw back my head to groan as I plow deep between his round, pale asscheeks and blow my load into the condom buried high up inside his ass.

  I lean my head against his leg as we catch our breath, then I slowly pull out of him. His asshole is red, gaping, and I hold his legs up to watch it slowly close as I peel off the condom. Brady finally lowers his legs and pulls me down on top of him, his cum and our sweat mixing together. We kiss for a long, slow time, and then he runs his hands through my hair and smiles up at me.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Mike.”

  I laugh and kiss him. “Happy Thanksgiving, Brady.” I get up and lead him back into the bathroom where we shower quickly. Afterward, I loan him one of my terry-cloth bathrobes and we sit on the floor by the fire eating pumpkin pie with real whipped cream.

  “Thanks for inviting me over for dinner,” Brady says around a mouthful of pie. “My bird really needed to be stuffed. I can’t wait to do it again.”

  I shake my head and grin at him. “Are you sure you want to pursue this?”

  He nods and sets his plate aside then gets to his knees and walks to me, untying his robe to expose his erection. “Oh, yeah. I’m sure.”

  I open my mouth and start to suck his cock once more, trying to remember the last time I’d gone back for thirds at Thanksgiving.

  SOMETIMES SEX JUST…HAPPENS

  Daniel W. Kelly

  Hey, Kooky,” Scott greeted Tim, with a big bear hug and one of his varying pet names.

  Comfort washed over Tim as he was taken into the strong arms of his towering friend, whose masculine voice exuded honest adoration.

  When the two had met through a mutual friend three years ago, the summer right before Tim began college, they had clicked immediately. Scott, more than a decade Tim’s senior, had been single, but Tim had been in a committed relationship with his high school sweetheart since day one of his young coming out.

  Tim was innocently flirty, had a rambunctious personality—due in part to the A.D.D. he chose not to have diagnosed or treated—and loved to get playfully under the skin of anyone who could handle his hyperactive nature. Scott’s thirty-four years of life experience, his time in the bear and leather scene and his stern look that clashed with his gentle temperament, easygoing ways and heart of gold, had awoken Tim’s curiosity, respect and desire.

  Had their circumstances been different when they’d met, their relationship would have been different, too. Neither had any problems with pushing the envelope, teasing and arousing the other with words and playful feel-ups. Theirs was an extremely physical platonic friendship.

  Now, circumstances were different, but once again, not in favor of the sparks that burned between them. Tim’s one and only relationship had come to an end recently. As it had been taking a downward turn, Scott had met Ken, his boyfriend for almost a year now. Other men imagined spying on them while they were in bed together—which spoke volumes to how perfect a package they were.

  Scott’s sparkling blue eyes were deeply set into his square-cut features. He had short-cropped dirty blond/graying hair, and was currently sporting a full, neatly trimmed beard. His barrel chest, thunder thighs, bulging stomach and swelling back looked more like the results of laboring as a lumberjack than actually going to the gym, and his thick layer of body hair was somehow darker than that on his head.

  Tim walked the edge between pretty boy and cub. His dark looks were intense, his high cheekbones and dark eyes captivating. He usually did the whole gold hoop earrings, slick spiked hair and sleek clothes thing. Occasionally, he dabbled in his bear potential, throwing on jeans and a flannel shirt and sporting scruffy facial hair while close-shaving his head, but one could still detect the fun-loving young soul hidden right beneath the manly surface. Because of his young age, the dark coat of body hair he sometimes exposed when wearing a tank surpris
ed and delighted bear hunters.

  Scott placed a soft kiss on Tim’s lips—he was one of only a few people Tim would be so intimate with, usually turning the cheek to lip-obsessed acquaintances—and playfully pinched Tim’s nipples.

  “Aaah!” Tim giggled, pulling away and covering his chest.

  “How you doing?” Scott asked.

  “Better now that I’m with you.” Tim fell back into Scott’s arms.

  “Awh…you’re so sweet,” Scott cooed as he held his friend tightly in his bulging arms. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  Scott kissed him on his head and they stood there for a moment longer before Tim’s anxious personality kicked in.

  “Where’s hot Ken?” Tim moved over to a rack of DVDs, dividing his attention in order to look through them for any new ones.

  Scott was in the nearby kitchen area, pouring Tim some lemonade as he answered, “He’s upstairs just finishing his shower.”

  He handed Tim the beverage.

  “You guys didn’t shower together?” Tim put his lemonade on a small table beside an easy chair, grabbed the remote and began flicking through the television stations without sitting down.

  “Not this time. We would never have finished before you got here.”

  “What the heck? You know how much I want to watch you two shower together,” Tim feigned annoyance. “You always promise.”

  “Hey, Scotty? I need to borrow a shirt,” a voice said from the next room.

  Ken entered in only a pair of sweat shorts, showing off his stocky but defined build—as wide and powerful looking as Scott’s, but a bit more polished. He had warm brown eyes, short but thick mahogany hair, and a well-groomed goatee. His body hair formed itself in tight curls on his chest, arms and legs.

  “Hey Tim,” he said, moving to hug the new arrival. “I didn’t know you were here already.”

  Tim felt the coolness of Ken’s freshly showered body, savored the hard muscle that pressed against him and inhaled the sweet scent of herbal shampoo. “Hey, hottie Ken.”