I’m back

Hey everyone, I’m so sorry for the long break in stories but I have been busy wrapping up a novel I have been working on. With that novel finally behind me (for now, at least), I can return to writing for fun. I thought I’d start off with a series of stories about an amazing young man I met last month. I am a little embarrassed to be smitten with someone young enough to be my son but rather than delve into self-analysis, I’ve decided to fictionalize it (somewhat). Thank you again to all my readers for being so patient with me.

Enzo

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Glory Daze

Glory HoleOne of my fuck-buddies calls, asking if I’ve ever met the dude in my neighborhood who advertises having a private glory hole set up in his home. I’ve seen the profile dozens of time but have never checked it out: It just seems creepy, if not dangerous, and the only photo the guy offers is a close-up of his open mouth. My buddy agrees it may be a little weird yet, being the pig that he is, wants to check it out anyway. He wants me to join him, promising we can bail if it gets weird. I doubt the dude is going to let us both come over at the same time, so I agree. In less than five minutes my buddy is instructing me to rinse off and meet at the address in half an hour.

The things my dick gets me into, right?

I get there first and wait a few minutes until my buddy pulls up and parks in front of me. He gets out of his car—wearing jeans, a black t-shirt and a gray ball cap—and walks over to my car. He’s tall, thin and blond, which usually isn’t my thing, but he has a huge dick which I’ve given up on trying to swallow and a great ass which, thankfully, loves getting fucked. He looks great tonight.

I roll down the window and he leans in. “This is crazy.”

“That’s why you love it,” hey says with a smile. “Let’s go blow our loads.” Continue reading

What happens in Vegas …

10en71yI’m wide awake at 7 am for some reason, even though my friends and I were up in the casino till 3 am. I glance at the other bed in our suite to see my buddy dead asleep. I’m a little hung over and seriously horny, so I log on to A4A Radar and find 14 other men within 300 feet and apparently in the same predicament. I love how many gay men stay here at the Cosmopolitan.

One guy catches my attention: 36 years old, bottom, decent shape, and looks like he may be Latin. I hit him up with a simple “What’s going on, handsome?” and find out that he is killing time before a 10am meeting, is horny, likes to kiss and be dominated, is 6 floors below me and needs 20 minutes to get ready. I have condoms and he has lube. I can’t remember the last time a hook up was orchestrated so efficiently and before I allow myself time to question it, I am showered and on my way down to his room.

He answers the door in gym shorts and a tight white t-shirt, looking nothing like I imagined from his photo: This boy is breathtakingly handsome with bright blue eyes, light brown hair and reddish scruff. He is 5’9” at best and is built like a gymnast on steroids. I run my hand through his wavy hair as a greeting, then close the door behind me and pull him in for a kiss. The connection is electric, and I know in an instant by his moan and the way he is clinging to me that he feels exactly the same way. I push him against the wall and kiss him hard and deep until we are both gasping for breath.

We finally pull apart long enough for me to pull his shirt off. I’m conscious that anything I say at this moment will sound completely stupid, so I just stand back and admire his defined shoulders and hard chest. He has just the right amount of light brown chest hair, which trails down his tight abs and under the waistband of his shorts.

He rubs his hands over my chest and down my arms. “Damn, you’re buff,” he says, making me laugh.

I can’t think of anything else to say other than “I want you.”

“You have me!”

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Bound Muscle

Bound_MuscleI step out to greet one of my buddies, who is here for a bondage session in my new place. I haven’t seen him in six months and as usual, am completed awed by how buff and sexy this guy is: 6’4”, 230 pounds with spiky brown hair and brilliant blue eyes. He is wearing one of those awful Coca-Cola t-shirts everyone and their mother seems to own, but it’ a size too small and shows off his tight pecs, huge shoulders and washboard abs. His cargo shorts are hiding the immense thighs and bubble-butt I’ve seen a dozen times before since we met several years ago.

The scene is always the same: Strip him down, rope him to my bed, and edge him for a few hours until he is begging to be allowed to shoot. He claims to be straight and married and while I doubt he is either, I’ve never pushed him on the subject. One: I understand how important fantasy is for some people. Two: This hot, masculine stud is allowing himself to submit to me, so why the hell should I mind playing along?

That being said, I am in the mood to change things up a bit. I figure: New house, new rules.

He’s always a little shy at first, which I use to my advantage. I walk him into my bedroom and give him 60 seconds to strip down to his underwear, warning him he will receive a paddling for every second he is late. He tears his clothes off within fifteen seconds and stands in front of me, panting a little. He is wearing powder blue Ginch Gonch briefs which look ridiculous on him, but he is tanned and has clearly been kicking ass at the gym, so I keep my opinion to myself. He has shaved what little hair he has from his chest and legs. I prefer hairy guys – I like having chest hair to pull on – but he looks amazing just the same. I tell him to drop to his knees and avert his eyes to the floor. I begin rubbing his huge shoulders, knowing it helps relax him. I confirm that I have him for two hours and remind him of his safeword, which is my name: Enzo. He knows that he can yell and scream all he wants, but that I will assume he is having a great time until he uses my name. Besides, he is well-aware that not referring to me as “Sir” will get him a swat with my paddle, or worse.

I reach into my toy chest and pull out several coils of black rope, a leather blindfold, steel handcuffs, some simple clothes pins and my weapon of choice: A wicked steel paddle encased in black leather. I carefully set each item on the table at the foot of my bed, letting him see what I plan to use. As predicted, his cock begins to swell. Also as predicted, his little briefs don’t stand a chance of containing his 8” monster. I rub my fingers lightly across his stretched briefs, causing both of us to moan. For me, there is nothing hotter than a seemingly perfect, masculine guy submitting to me. It drives me crazy, and makes it hard to stay in character.

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My Naughty Neighbor

naughty neighborI hadn’t been in my new place a full three days before my neighbor made his move. He and his wife introduced themselves as I was moving in, so I didn’t think much of it when he walked across the street to join me as I was taking out the trash. He asked how the move went and I invited him to check out what I did to the place. He looked cute enough, in that straight-guy way: Bushy brown hair, blue eyes, a few days worth of scruff and a lean athletic body. I guessed him to be in his early thirties. He was a little taller than I am, maybe 6’1”.

We spent a few minutes on boring small talk until he saw my king-sized steel-framed bed, which basically took up 80% of my bedroom. “Damn, that’s some bed.”

If he wasn’t straight, I would have explained it was great for bondage scenes, but I didn’t want to scare him away just yet. “It’s a pain in the ass to move, but I think it’s cool.” I reached up and playfully hung from the top beam. “It’s great for pull-ups.”

“Is that the secret to those huge arms?”

If he wasn’t straight, I would have assumed he was hitting on me. “That, and genetics, I guess.”

“How big are your biceps?”

“A little more than 18 inches,” I replied.

“Damn,” he said, whistling. “I doubt I could even get my hands around them.”

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Don’t Tell Mom, Part 1: Hot for my step-dad

Step-Dad

My mom left Mitch, my step-dad, last week without much fuss or warning. She simply took a few of her things and moved to Utah to be with the asshole she met last year at some business conference, leaving me here with Mitch. I guess I should be more upset, but she’s been a total bitch these past few months and now the house is finally chill. I can’t help but suspect she has been planning on leaving for a long time and that she was just waiting until I turned 18 last month. I feel bad for Mitch, but he seems kind of relieved as well and said he has no problem with me staying here in his house until I finish High School and figure out what I want to do after that.

Mitch has always been cool and while he never seemed interested in playing the role of my father, he has always treated my like family. He feels more like a brother to me than a step-dad, but that is probably due to the fact he is only 16 years older than me. Mitch is also a fucking stud and I’m surer he can do better than my mom. He’s 5’11 with a worked out body, wavy brown hair, dark brown eyes and perfect teeth. He looks like a model yet makes bank as a stock broker here in Phoenix. Mitch has been my jack-off material since he married my mom five years ago and I can’t even look at him when his shirt is off without getting hard.

In fact, Mitch is who I’m fantasizing about right now as my buddy, Alex, is on his knees sucking my dick here in my bedroom. Alex and I were on the junior varsity and varsity wrestling team together and we started messing around last year. Although we are both in the same weight class of 152, we are polar opposites: I am lean, smooth and relatively tall at 5’10 with brown hair and eyes, where he is stocky, hairy and is barely 5’6” with blond hair and blue eyes. Alex is a powerful fucker and is all legs, and he won the county tournament in our weight class earlier this year.

It isn’t that Alex is ugly or anything; I’m just not really all that into him. However, he is one of only three dudes I’ve ever messed around with and he loves sucking dick without expecting anything back, which I love. He already made me shoot once today here on my bedroom floor, and he seems determined to milk another load out of me. I’m on my back, hands behind my head with my eyes closed as he is working hard when my bedroom door pops open and Mitch walks in. Continue reading

The Porn Star

big maxI recently came across Big Max online just before midnight on a Tuesday night. I’ve seen him in dozens of porn scenes and knew he worked here in Orange County as an escort, but I have never seen him online before. I assumed it was a waste of time to hit on a famous porn star but I was horny and bored, so I sent him a simple message. “How’s it going tonight, handsome?”

“I’m good,” he wrote back. “Bored and a little horny.”

That got a rise from my eyebrows as well as my dick. “Same here.”

“You a top?” he asked. “I’d love to get fucked tonight.”

That surprised me on several levels: One; Big Max is always the big rough top in his movies. Two; while I’m not ugly, Big Max is stunningly beautiful by anyone’s standards and I wasn’t sure what he expected from me.

“Total dom top here,” I typed back, hoping that kept his attention rather than scaring him away.

We messaged back and forth a few times and before I knew it, I had his address. “What’s your name?” I asked. I’m not sure why, and I was afraid it could offend him, but I was embarrassed to admit that I recognized him from his movies. Recognized, hell: I’ve blown my load watching his scenes at least 100 times.

He said his name was Jason and I told him I’d be at his place in 30 minutes.

I took a quick shower, put on a ball cap and made it to his apartment right on time. He answered the door wearing sweats and an old wife beater that showed off his muscled body. The first thing that surprised me was how short he was: I’m six foot even so he had to be 5’7” at best. The second surprise was that he looked much better than he did in his movies; and even more muscular than I had imagined. His wavy brown hair was wet, so I assumed he just stepped out of the shower. His grey eyes looked tired and if I didn’t know any better, I would have guessed he was shy or nervous. He asked if I wanted a drink and started making polite small talk.

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