Stock Boy Gets Stiffed During Delivery

DISCLAIMER: This fictional account is written for a friend who likes his “storytelling” a bit on the rough side.

He watched from behind a gauzy curtain as his prey pulled up in a non-descript vehicle … a hatchback that had seen many years of hard driving. The individual driving was more boy than man, possessing a bulky frame that needed a bit more sunshine as well as definition. But the man had spied the boy working at a local grocery and knew that he had to have him. The boy represented a hunger … a need that started in his groin and spread outward in waves of quivering desire.

The first few encounters with his target were easy to manipulate. The man shopped regularly until he learned that the boy usually worked mornings. Then he made sure to seek the boy out with questions and prepared small talk. And he made sure to sexually charge the conversations, like one time he asked if the boy had any experience with one brand of lubricant … another time he winked when buying a cucumber and saying “I’m just going to cook with it.” During these brief assignations, the man assessed the boy carefully … about 5’10”, a student at the local fine arts college, and apparently single. And each and every time they met, the man felt the boys linger a bit on his 45-year-old beefy frame and penetrating hazel eyes. And today he seized the young bull by the horns. The man located the boy … Jason … restocking produce. The boy looked alert and fetching, a light sheen of perspiration dusting his smooth forehead as he replaced aging tomatoes, carrots, and fruit with fresh foodstuffs.

“Hello, Jason, my young stud,” the man said as he lightly touched the young employee’s shoulder as he navigated his full cart to a stop.

“What’s up, Mr. Pratt? You’re earlier than usual today.” The man smiled a wolfish grin, inwardly happy that this young man knew his typical shopping schedule.

“Well, Jason … I’m actually in a bit of a quandary …:

“What’s the problem, sir?”

Mr. Pratt felt the jaws of his plan close like a delicate Venus flytrap. “Oh, dude,” he started with his most overwrought expression in place, “I just got a call on my cell and my sister needs me right now … but I have all these groceries in my cart and no time to check out.”

Jason’s helpful smile beamed brightly. “I can get you to the front of the checkout in no time. We can just …”

Mr. Pratt shook his head. “No, it is an emergency … I have to leave now … but I also need these groceries. Do you think if I gave you some money, you could check them out when you finish your shift and bring them by my place.”

Jason hesitated just a second before his good heart took over again. “Well, I am off in just another hour …”

“Oh, son … you would be so helping me out. Here’s plenty of cash and a card with my address. It’s only about 10 minutes from here. I can even pay you for your time I that helps …”

And like he expected, Jason’s flash of indignity covered any traces of the boy ever wondering why he had money and his address at the ready like he did. “Mr. Pratt, I could never take money from such a good customer.”

He shouldn’t have gone off script, but the man felt emboldened. “Just a good customer?” And his hazel eyes bore into the younger man like industrial lasers.

“Nahhhh,” Jason teased. “AND as a pretty cool guy too!”

Mr. Pratt smiled and then hurried to his car. At home he checked that his supplies were ready and began the anxious wait for Jason’s arrival. At about 10:15 a.m., the dilapidated vehicle pulled into his short driveway. The day was calm and nearly all of Mr. Pratt’s neighbors were away at their jobs.

The man watched the boy unload and stack two boxes of groceries from his car, his large forearms bristling with blondish hairs and thin blue veins. Every movement was a bit awkward, but the man’s cock swelled with what would be his in a few moments.

He greeted the boy in boxers and a tight t-shirt that hugged his beefy pecs and literally presented his thick armpits for sniffing. The man’s thick cock was clearly outlined by the tight satiny fabric. Jason was startled by Mr. Pratt’s appearance, but he pasted on a smile and entered into the residence. “Where do you want these, Mr. Pratt?”

“Kitchen table,” the man indicated, “right through there.” Jason followed the man’s gesture; once the boy’s back was turned Mr. Pratt slid the deadbolt closed.

Jason re-entered the living area, his cheeks slightly flushed. He took stock of Mr. Pratt’s high-end furnishings as well as some very provocative black-and-white photographs of nude men hanging from three of the four walls. A trickle of sweat having nothing to do with the heavy burden of groceries traveled down Jason’s spine.

“Nice place, Mr. Pratt … looks very comfortable.”

“Thank you, Jason,” the man replied from his position in a beautiful tufted chair. Before him was a pitcher of lemonade and two crisp-looking $10 bills. “Now I’m going to pay you for the trouble I caused you.”

Jason was tempted by the money, but he really had just wanted to help out this kind man. “No way, sir! Your house was just a tiny bit out of my way and …”

“Wally.”

“Huh?” The boy looked genuinely confused.

“My name is Wallace but my friends call me Wally.”

“Well, Wally,” the boy said a little stiffly,” it was no trouble.”

Wallace Pratt looked around his living room a bit absentmindedly for just a second or two. Then he indicated the nearby loveseat to the boy. “Can I at least offer you a class of lemonade before you get back on the road?”

“Sure,” Jason said as he took the proffered seat. The lemonade was tart with visible mint leaves but very refreshing. The man immediately started asking Jason about his taste in books and movies and one lemonade turned to two drinks which led to a third. About halfway through the third glass, Jason failed to stifle a yawn. His eyes felt a bit glassy and he felt warm. I definitely need a nap, he thought as his host continued to pepper him with questions. The strange but not unpleasant feeling continued to grow and Jason suggested that he should be going.

“I need to get home, Wally.” He fished his cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open. “Or maybe I should call my Mom to come pick me up.”

In a blur of motion, Wallace Pratt leaned forward and snatched Jason’s cell from him. He deposited the phone in the drawer of a side table and turned back to the boy with a smug look on his face. “Oh, my boy,” the man said. “That wouldn’t be a good idea. The drugs in your lemonade would make driving a very bad idea,”

“Drrrrruuugsss,” said Jason, his voice slurring slightly. He set the drink down as the muscles in his arms began to tremble.

“Oh, nothing dangerous … some strong sedatives mixed with a few recreationals I had from a party or two. I tested them on a few unsuspecting fellas last week.”

Jason’s vision blurred and then steadied and then blurred again. “Don’t worry about it son. I didn’t mess with those boys. I saved it all for you.” And with that, Jason’s world grew dark.

As the boy fought his way back toward the light, his senses went back on line. He sensed slivers of daylight but filtered through heavy shades. The air was very cool and stung his skin in a strange way. And he smelled odd scents, including something flowery mixed with old leather.

Jason opened his eyes and beheld a truly strange sight. He was lying on his back but he was suspended in some type of hammock or sling contraption. To either side his arms stretched above and out of sight. Instinctively he tried to lower his limbs but they were restrained. Jason lifted his head to look down the length of his body to discover that his legs were likewise secured into lined leather cuffs. He tried struggling but his entire form just swayed from the chains that supported him and suspended his bulky frame from the ceiling of the room.

“Awake, I see,” came a voice from his left. Mr. Pratt stood in an open doorway but it was a very different Mr. Pratt. The man looked the same but he had stripped down into nothing but a dirty, tattered jock strap. Through several holes Jason could glimpse tufts of dark pubic hair and the contours of two enormous balls. The man was more solidly built then Jason imagined. He had good sized pecs with rings of hair around medium-sized pierced nipples. Abundant body hair trailed along his thighs and stomach, disappearing into the pouch of his jock. Overall, the man was buff and burly. Jason’s heartbeat raced as he continued to struggle in vain.

“What the fuck have you done, you asshole? Why have you tied me up?”

Mr. Pratt’s smile now looked feral and Jason noticed that the man was carrying a large bowl. “I’ve restrained you, son … for your own good. I need to finish preparing the contrast.”

“What the fuck is a contrast?” Jason bellowed. “What kind of sick fuck are you anyway?”

Jason was still trying to make sense of his surroundings as Mr. Pratt placed the bowl on a nearly table and sat himself in a wheeled office chair. He rolled closer, his eyes scanning Jason’s body … his naked body!!

“What the fuck!!” the boy exclaimed, noticing for the first time that all his clothing had been removed and that his chest, stomach, arms, and pits had been shaved smooth. He inhaled deeply and was rewarded with the smell of fear mixed with sweat and menthol. The smell of his own ripeness made the boy’s nuts ache slightly.

“As you can see, Jason,” the man explained, “I am a darker, more mature, hairy man. I enjoy my conquests being the opposite. I was smitten with you the very first time I laid eyes on you.” As he talked, Mr. Pratt opened a fresh pack of disposable razors. Deftly, he squirted some shaving foam from a plastic tube into his hands. He worked it into a frothy lather. Then, looking directly into the boy’s eyes, he applied a healthy coating of white foam to Jason’s groin and upper thighs.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” the boy moaned, unable to stop the sound he made as his body felt such extreme pleasure.

“So you like this … I guessed as much.” The man smeared some crème on Jason’s thickening cock.

“You don’t know anything about me, you pervert,” the boy said as he spat each word. “I’m scared and confused. But if you let me go right now, I won’t tell anyone. Just stay away from me and the store and I won’t give you any trouble. I promise.”

Mr. Pratt laughed from deep in his throat. “Jason, I do want promises from you … but soon you’ll be promising to return to me every day for more of my teachings.”

Fantasy Series: Exposé One

(NOTE: Unlike my other posts, this is a purely fabricated sexcapade based on a fun online conversation with a Facebook friend from Berlin. Hope you enjoy it!)

It’s a beautiful early spring day … perfect for a wedding … but everyone involved in the festivities seems so tenses. Well, everyone except me. The wedding took a lot of planning, mostly because the woman my brother is marrying is kind of a bitch. Very fussy and stuck up, in fact. And EVERYTHING associated with this shindig had to be the best … thank God it’s her folks who are stuck with the tab.

Anyway, I’m standing in my chocolate brown satin tuxedo … GAG! … in a small wing of the biggest Catholic church in our small college town. The pews are filled to capacity and some soft instrumental music is lulling family and guests into a stupor while we await the cues to enter the main body of the church … easily a half hour away.

Standing with me in matching Hershey bar colored monkey suits are my brother Brian, the groom; my other brother Matt; my oldest nephew Billy; Billy’s best friend Kyle, a handsome boy with curly black hair and blazing blue eyes who goes pretty much everywhere my nephew does; and Sven, an extremely handsome man from Berlin who has known Brian for years and who has the honor of being best man. I just met Sven last night at the rehearsal dinner. He’s very friendly and articulate and has the most intense eyes I have ever seen. But in the back of my brain I don’t want to like him because I always figured when my brother finally took the plunge, I would be his best man. We’ve been extremely close our entire lives and I, to be perfectly frank, I was shocked when I wasn’t selected.

“Where the hell is Father Andrew?” Brian said rather loudly.

“Church,” I chided, indicating the walls around us.

“He was supposed to be giving me some last minute instructions.”

I figured Sven, as best man, would take charge and gallop off to save the day. But he just stood there with a crisp and sexy smile on his face, adjusting the cuffs on his jacket sleeves. I caught his attention and jerked my head to the side, hoping he would grab the clue. His grin just beamed even brighter.

“Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll go find your man of the cloth.” Sven took a quick step forward and quietly said “I will accompany you” in only slightly-accented English. I shrugged my shoulders as if his presence was unnecessary, but his closeness definitely raised my blood pressure. And I was sure I could smell a masculine sweat or musk just beneath his subtle woodsy cologne. Well, my dick could certainly smell it.

Sven and I passed a few latecomers as we glanced around for the priest. We had crossed the width of the lobby without any sign of the man. We were just about to retrace our steps when I hurt a rather high-pitched keening noise from behind a small door. As I moved closer to the battered doorframe, the sound changed into soft grunting. I looked over my shoulder and Sven was right there. Apparently he too could hear the noises. With a wink, he pointed toward the latch.

Very carefully I tried the door … it was unlocked. As quietly as I could I pushed the door open and stepped through with Sven staying as close as my shadow. The room was dimly lit by natural light filtering through a pair of frosted windows set high in the outer wall. It appeared to be a changing room of some type with vestments of various sizes hanging from hooks. Dust could be seen suspended in the feeble light and the original wood floors were worn smooth in spots. As I scanned the room, I noticed movement behind a pile of crates. Sven and I inched closer until we could peer around the containers. Braced in the corner of the plastered walls with his eyes closed tightly was the priest we were looking for. He had shed most of his garments and his cassock was flung over his left shoulder. He had a shaved head and a thick but pleasing body. His chest, arms, and thighs appeared to be covered with a thatch of salt-and-pepper fur. I was anxious to get a look at what kind of meat the priest was swinging, but at that moment his cock was buried down the throat of an altar boy who was kneeling between the priest’s splayed legs. All I could see was a bobbing head of ash blond hair on a lad of about 16. His skin was flawless and his shoulders and back flexed as he worked his magic on Father Andrew.

“Good God,” I whispered, grinning a bit as I considered my surroundings. My voice was loud enough to catch the attention of the priest. His eyes shot open and his hands … entwined in the altar boy’s lustrous hair … tried to push the teenager away. The altar boy didn’t budge and the priest’s face was a mixture of ungodly embarrassment and total bliss.

“Um … I … you shouldn’t be …”

“No,” I stated. “YOU shouldn’t be. At least I don’t think you’re allowed to be doing … well, him.” And I pointed to the kneeling, sucking youth in the room.

The priest’s eyes showed fear. “I thought I locked the door.”

“Oh, and that makes everything all right. There’s a wedding going on. A WEDDING! My BROTHER’S wedding!!”

I was about to say more when Sven laid his hand on my shoulder and moved me over a bit. “Aaron, my friend,” he said in his deep, sexy voice. “Sometimes we can’t help how we feel … we can’t fight our urges.” And with that Sven moved forward and began to fondle one of the priest’s nipples. When his hand made contact with fur and pec, the priest hissed in a gulp of breath.

Sven continued to explore the chest and belly of the priest, as well as place his other hand on the altar boy’s shoulder. As he did so, I noticed that Sven’s hand was quite hairy itself, as was the bit of wrist that extended from his tux jacket. I also noticed he had a huge bulge in his fairly-tight trousers.

My mouth was dry as a bone … hahaha!! … and quieted by the severity of the situation. Sven eyed my like a lazy cat as he lifted one of the alter boy’s arms and placed the young man’s hand on his swelling crotch. “My friend, maybe WE should avoid the Father’s mistake and lock the door before we are ALL embarrassed further.” My mouth opened and closed several times before I started to turn to secure the room’s entrance. Before I had turned more than a few inches, I heard the lock engage. I wheeled around to gaze around the barrier of crates and saw my nephew and his friend standing there with eyes as big as saucers and impressive looking packages of their own.

“Sounds like someone is having a party,” the young man named Kyle said. He and my nephew both grinned like wolves. “Can we see?”

“Guys, I think you better get out of here. This situation is kinda, well … hairy!!”

“Cool,” cooed Kyle.

My nephew Billy looked directly into my eyes. “It’s OK, Uncle Aaron … Kyle and I aren’t little boys. We’re pretty open-minded.”

“REAL open minded,” Kyle giggled as he leaned in and planted a deep kiss on my nephew’s open mouth. The two young men groped each other lewdly as their kiss grew in intensity.

What the fuck is happening?, my mind screamed. Am I having some kind of waking dream? Or is it a simple aneurism coming to teach me a lesson?

In a matter of seconds Billy, Kyle, Sven, and I were standing side by side watching the priest getting what looked like extraordinary head. The altar boy pulled back for a moment and looked up at our group. He had the cutest freckles and his lips were red from his efforts. Drool dripped from his open mouth and his eyes sparkled with mischief and desire. This little fucker is no victim, I thought to myself. He may have started this whole thing.

But my brain screeched to a halt when took in the magnificent cock dangling from Father Andrew. It was at least nine inches long and about six inches around. The head was a huge, smooth, mushroom-shaped knob, while the shaft was textured with heavy veins that snaked along its length. The priest’s balls were plump and drawn up against the base of his member. And all of the equipment was covered in a dense forest of dark pubes shot through with touches of silver. My jaws started to ache … sympathy pains for the altar boy who was throating this python of a dick.

I looked over to my right at Sven beside me. His hands had returned to his own body and they were stroking his cock through his pants. He had shed his jacket and vest; his white shirt lay open revealing a massive chest covered in dark, curly hair. One brownish nipple was pierced. And although he was facing the action, I could see his eyes dart my way to gauge my reactions to the priest’s stupendous dong. I may fucking faint, I thought.

A sudden noise to my left drew my attention in that direction. So swiftly I thought they might hurt themselves, my nephew and his buddy had dropped down on either side of the altar boy. While the blond kid took a much-needed rest, Billy and Kyle dived onto the priest’s meat. They tag-teamed his shaft, running their lips along its length like it had interrupted another of their kisses. These boys definitely knew their way around a dick!!

“It seems like we are the only ones missing the fun,” Sven said, shaking me back to reality. He was looking directly at me, his eyes full of lust. Slowly, the buff German leaned into me and placed a gentle kiss on my rough lips. His tongue slithered into my welcoming mouth and our mouths wrestled over each other. Sven’s strong arms worked smoothly as he helped me out of my jacket, vest and shirt. At the same time I slipped the pleated shirt over and off of Sven’s meaty shoulders.

We broke the kiss to admire each other; a whistle of appreciation escaped my lips. To say Sven was gorgeous was an understatement. The man was fit and covered mostly in dark hair. My hands were trembling as I reached up to stroke his furry chest. Sven mirrored my motions, running the flats of his hands across my smooth, less-developed pecs. “I like what I see,” Sven said, pinching both my nipples until I squealed.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” I replied. “I never get together with guys as hot as you. Must be the moon … or just my lucky day.”

“How you say, bull’s shit! We both be getting lucky.”

I almost laughed a little at his odd use of English, but nothing seemed funny when Sven’s right hand descended and started working my stiff dick through the fabric of my suit pants. I leaned into his strong fingers, whimpering softly as he worked my firmness. “Fuck, dude … I had no idea you even liked men.”

“Your brother not know this about me, but I have always loved men. He has mentioned you often … shown me a few photos. I have been wanting for this chance for years.”

Sven released my throbbing pecker and began opening my trousers. He quickly pulled the waistband of my boxer briefs down so it fit snuggly under my hairless nuts. My cock is just a smidge over seven inches long … on the thin side and uncut. I hoped my hardness would impress the visiting German family friend, so I was totally unprepared for the chuckles that escaped his throat.

I started to cover myself. “Glad you think I’m so funny,” I said sarcastically. “I was really hoping you and I could …”

“Stop … I was not laughing at you. It was your cock ring.” His glance dropped to the silver metal cock ring that encircled my junk. I don’t know why I decided to wear it on my brother’s wedding day. I guess maybe I just wanted to feel a little special myself.

I was about to ask Sven why my “accessory” made him laugh when he peeled his own pants down … he wasn’t wearing any underwear … to display an identical cock ring. But where my dick was “OK,” Sven was sporting a formidable log. His cock had to be close to eight inches and unusually thick. His cock had a nice chunk of foreskin and, like the rest of his body, it was trimmed in thick tufts of dark fur. I felt AND heard a growl issue from deep inside me. I gotta get that cock in me, I mused.

Sven must have sensed how horny and willing I was. Gently pushing on my shoulders, he shoved my stocky frame to a kneeling position and then guided my head to his cock. My tongue darted out to taste his thickly-veined skin. I was rewarded with hints of salt and tangy sweat. Chemicals in my brain shot straight to my dick and I began lapping at his tool like a puppy with a chew toy.

Beefy hands stroked my hair as I opened wide to take just the knob of Sven’s monster into my mouth. For a moment I held perfectly still, allowing the German’s cock to throb and moisten my mouth with his sweet pre-cum. I looked up at Sven’s face. His was tiled slightly to the side, his face displaying his growing pleasure. After a bit, he shook off the sensations and placed one strong hand behind my head, slowly pulling me forward. More and more luscious dick worked its way into my throat. I gagged a little, but I wanted that prick to go as deep as it possibly could.

While I sucked and constricted my throat, I worked Sven’s pants down to his ankles. He danced around but finally managed to shed his shoes and step out of his slacks. I continued to bob rapidly on his massive cock as my hands rubbed up and down his hairy thighs. I even reached up to cup his hairy ass. Every time I dared to run my fingers through his forest of an ass crack, Sven would moan and tremble. And with each quiver, I was rewarded with a squirt of fresh pre-cum. It was like a sexy recreation of Pavlov’s experiment and Sven was my hairy, sweaty dog.

After maybe another five minutes of torturing his stick, I broke away to suck in a few deep breaths. Sven’s cock stood proud, shiny with my spit. As I inhaled deeply, I looked around to gauge what else was happening. My nephew and his friend had divided their forces. Kyle was no longer content with licking the priest’s “lollipop.” He had half the father’s thick dong shoved in his greedy mouth. I absently stroked my cock as I watched the gleaming black curls on Kyle’s head move back and forth in the room’s weak light. The priest’s mouth was open in a soundless cry of ecstasy.

Behind the priest another show was taking place. I was shocked and incredibly turned on to see just the top of my nephew Billy’s head as he plied his tongue to the priest’s no-doubt hairy asshole. My cock dripped as I realized that my nephew was just as big a cockhound as me … and that today’s events were going to change our relationship forever. Off to the right of the trio, sitting on a drop cloth, the young blond altar boy sat dazed stroking his slender, pale prick.

I was about to retrieve my phone to check the time when two strong arms hoisted me to my feet. Face to face, Sven mashed his lips against mine for a powerful kiss. He worked my mouth violently, tasting his own cock on my puffy lips. As we smooched, Sven helped me shuck my shoes and pants and briefs. Soon we were both standing in nothing more than matching socks and cock rings.

The kissing continued while Sven and I stepped over to the pile of storage bins. The German broke our liplock and roughly pushed one small crate to the side, creating a ledge of sorts. With a sexy wink, he bent me at the waist while pushing me forward. As I rested on my forearms, Sven crouched and aggressively pulled my ass cheeks apart. I heard and felt three wads of spit coat my pink hole. Soon the edge of one of Sven’s hand was sawing up and down my ass crack. More spit was spewed into my crevice. My legs trembled from the awesome feelings traveling through my body. The sensations only grew as Sven worked first one and then two thick fingers into my anus. He twisted his hand rapidly, drilling into me. I spread my legs wider, allowing him full access to my hungry rump.

After he had sufficiently worked me open, I sensed the motion of him standing and placing the knob of his dick at the entrance to my asshole. Leaning forward, he placed his mouth at my ear and whispered, “now, my friend, I mark you as mine.”

It was brutal. Sven drove his meat into me in one hard thrust. I screamed louder than I wanted to, very glad that the church was filled with music. He withdrew his cock completely and battered his way back inside. I was sweating and pushing our, trying to keep my chute open and relaxed. With each mighty thrust, the beautiful German let out a grunt. Soon the room was filled with the sound of Sven’s balls smacking against me as he plowed my butt. And every time he thrust and grunted, I let out a soft moan and contracted my anal muscles, trying to trap his hot missile inside me.

I turned my head to watch him. Sven was also coated in sweat, but the hair on his chest and tummy sparkled. He looked like a Teutonic god, dolling out punishment to a misbehaving subject. My whole body shook as he pounded into me. I briefly looked past him to behold a sight I never would have imagined. Billy and Kyle had found a small, sturdy table. Kyle was on his back; Father Andrew had straddled Kyle while facing him. And Billy was part of the scene too. He was positioned behind the priest and between Kyle’s spread legs. I couldn’t actually see the “mechanics” of the act, but from the look on the father’s face I knew that Billy’s cock was snuggled in his ass too alongside his best friend’s member. The priest’s body was magnificent as he pistoned up and down on two young cocks. His gray tufts of body hair looked damp and delicious. Just watching them made my ass tighten around Sven’s cock like a vise. With a roar, the best man gave me a tremendous shove forward and I could feel his load of cum flooding my ass. I counted five huge bursts. Sven came so much that his jizz began leaking from my hole and coating my swollen balls.

I was panting from the exertion. Sven pulled his cum-covered cock from my ass. He playfully wiped his splooge around my ass and plunged his prick back into my battered gash. I yelped each time he entered me. On the third or fourth such thrust, Sven stayed inside me and I felt a new and bizarre sensation. My colon seemed to radiate a new heat and I heard a soft sound like dripping water. In a raspy voice, Sven uttered a cryptic phrase, “sweat, piss, and cum … the Holy Trinity.” That fucker was pissing in my ass and I was LOVING it.

When he was finished, Sven backed away and found a pile of old rags. He began wiping the accumulation of piss and spent cum from his dick. I was still standing with my ass spread and dripping a variety of fluids. My cock was still thick with an unborn orgasm. As I continued to breath rapidly, I wondered if I should jerk off or just get dressed and hope that I could take my frustration out on Sven’s hairy ass at the wedding reception.

I had just started to rise, pushing myself upward with my arms, when a hand suddenly appeared in the middle of my back to hold me in place. I was thinking that maybe Sven had more mischief in mind, but I was going to have to tell him we didn’t have the time. I turned my head and my eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates. Crouched between my legs and spread butt cheeks was my nephew. I literally screamed when his tongue darted out to lick my battered hole. What the hell?, I thought. We are all sooooo going to hell anyway!!

HEADLINE: Fantasy Series-Exposé One

Nursing: More A "Calling" Than A Career

Finally ... my editor has given me an assignment that combines human interest and technology and I think I'm just the right person to tackle it. I actually feel sorry for my editor. His wife just had a serious surgery and her recovery was not what they expected. She responded to the trauma and anesthesia very poorly and her kidneys have had a hell of a time bouncing back. He's missed a bunch of work and I swear his hair is much more gray in just a few weeks time. But the idea of doing a story on the prominence of kidney dialysis and kidney disease is inspired.

I just met with Darrell Kilgore. He's the information director for one of our local hospitals. Mr. Kilgore was kind of a "blah" on the manmeter ... just your average 40-year-old middle manager with mousy looks and a pleasant personality ... but, man, did he dig his heels in to help with this piece. He provided me with a fact sheet on national and state dialysis patient stats and some additional research that will save me tons of time. Then he took me to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee and introduced me to Brandon, a registered nurse who works exclusively in the hospital's dialysis unit.

I was in mid-sentence with Darrell when I noticed a sturdy young man in dark sweats approaching our table from the left. My breath caught in my throat as I realized he was going to be my "tour guide" for the remainder of the afternoon. For fuck's sake, I salivated in my brain, how am I gonna remember anything with this stud leading me around?

Darrell stood quickly and clapped Brandon on the shoulder. My eyes registered that the administrator's mouth was moving, but I just sat there in a sexual trance taking in all of Brandon's manly splendor. Guessing he was 26 or 27 and 5' 10" or 5' 11", Brandon had the build of a wrestler ... stocky and thick and extremely masculine. His hair was dirty blond ... my favorite ... and in a longish style. A goatee formed a reddish-blond frame around Brandon's succulent lips, growing in sparsely at the corners of his mouth. Like in a dream, I eventually stood and grasped his outstretched hand. My eyes darted around like those of an animal, taking in his icy blue eyes, the abundant darker hairs covering his exposed forearms and peeking out of his neckline, and the thick line of his cock lying beneath the tight scrub pants. No underwear, I surmised, my kind of dude for sure!!

I was still clinging to Brandon's warm mitt when Mr. Kilgore reminded me to call him with any additional questions and then exited the cafeteria. Brandon and I stood there for a few awkward seconds. "So I guess I'll be showing you the dialysis center," he commented with a velvety voice that hinted of mint juleps and Southern hospitality.

"Arkansas?" I guessed, watching as his eyes turned almost white in the harsh hospital lighting.

"Good try ... southern Georgia originally. Been up here for about two years. My friends say my accent is so much lighter than when I started work here." Brandon dipped his head as if embarrassed. His fringe of bangs fell over his forehead.

"I think it's sexy," I blurted, and then realized I'd meant to say youthful or attractive or something more complimentary and less I'd-like-to-jump-your-bones-ish. Brandon didn't respond, but one side of his mouth quirked up into a half smile. "Let's get going," he finally said and led me out the opposite side of the cafeteria deeper into the health care complex.

We passed a few people and Brandon nodded to each but kept up a focused dialogue with me. "Nationally, we're facing nearly 27 million people with chronic kidney disease. Almost 400,000 of those individuals are facing what we call End Stage Renal Disease where dialysis several times a week is all that's keeping them going while awaiting a kidney donor." I tried to keep a solemn look on my face while I occasionally jotted down a note as we walked briskly. But mostly, my eyes were glued to the ridge that told me that Brandon's cock was jostling around playfully as we traversed the hallways.

We arrived at the Dialysis Unit and he ushered me in. "Here in Ohio, we have about 13,700 documented dialysis patients, including post-surgical trauma victims, renal disease patients, and people with complications from diabetes, hypertension, and other urological disorders. Everyone from small children to someone's favorite grandma."

The unit looked very new and classy, almost chic. Muted colors and designer touches created an attractive outpatient ward but with a more "standard" looking in-patient section hidden toward a back elevator. A few nurses and technicians scurried about but Brandon quickly led me over to a heavyset, middle-aged woman hooked up to several machines and monitors. "Hey, Ms. Clara ... how's my favorite patient in the entire four-county metro area?" Brandon patted the woman's shoulders and I could feel the waves of genuine compassion and concern flowing off him.

"Oh, Brandon ... you know my diabetes is bad. Don't go hitting Clara with all that sugar all at once!! Hehe!!" One of Clara's hands grasped for Brandon; he leaned into her and rewarded her hand with a few playful squeezes. It seemed a very practiced but loving maneuver. He pivoted slightly to open up Clara's view to include me. "May I introduce Clara Harris, 61, hemodialysis needed due to diabetic complications. Clara, this is the reporter we discussed with you last week ... he's gonna ask you a few questions and snap a few photographs for a story about the clinic."

I almost corrected Brandon but figured his explanation was close enough. I shook Clara's hand and explained to her my need for her signature on a photo release. "And you're sure my head isn't gonna be in any of these pictures?" she asked as she scrawled a barely legible line of cursive.

"No ma'am ... I just want to get a decent shot of some of the equipment and how it is linked to a human body. Your face will not be featured."

Clara let out a loud laugh to which Brandon grinned widely. "Honey, my face is fine ... it's my hair that's a fright!" I chucked too as I snapped about 15 or 16 photos from various angles so I would have a selection from which to choose. I also used my moving about to "accidentally" bump into Brandon once or twice. Each time I apologized and he just gave me that half-smirk.

While I took my pictures, making sure that I captured as little of Clara and the female technician directly monitoring her as possible, I also got a brief background on Clara and her dealings with the dialysis center. "Been coming here for about a year, and let me tell you I was scared from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. But this one right here ..." she said, as she indicated Brandon, "he put me so at ease. Told me that while they figured out my medical situation, they needed to run my blood through a fancy kitchen strainer. He told me I would keep my 'noodles' all warm and delicious while getting rid of the stuff that would make me sick." Clara looked up and offered Brandon a very self-satisfied smile.

"Jeez, Clara ... you're making me look silly in front of the reporter." Brandon looked genuinely embarrassed as he gauged my reactions for Clara's retelling of their first encounter.

Swiveling her head, Clara fixed me with a knowing look. "I don't get the impression he," she started, thumbing her unencumbered hand in my direction, "thinks you're silly at all. In fact, well ... child, all this star attention has made me a little tired. I'm just gonna rest my eyes a bit. Be a dear and check back on me when you finish with your business." When Clara said the word "business," it was with a mix of playful accusation ... I know your game ... and a deep warning ... don't you dare hurt him. I smiled at her thankfully for not creating an embarrassing situation as Brandon nudged me away from the dialysis station and began explaining in a somewhat hushed voice some of the other monitoring and health data collection equipment.

Brandon was an excellent teacher ... he took me through a basic "history" of dialysis and used common analogies to explain the more technical aspects. Nothing as homespun as Miss Clara had shared, but I could tell immediately that this man was a gifted nurse. And throughout my crash course, his honeyed tones and peach blossom accent warmed me right down to my stirring crotch. I flirted when I could, but always in a manner where I could "back out" easily. I was being subtle ... at least I hoped so ... and Brandon seemed to be enjoying the game.

But I was at a distinct disadvantage because Nurse Brandon was like a magnetic force ... I wanted to be physically close to him. He was solid and comforting and seemed to fill the room with his masculine presence. He also possessed one of those smouldering personalities where you weren't always sure what a look or a touch mean. When he spoke, it was layered with meaning and emotion. And a facial expression from Brandon seemed to convey hundreds of pages of subtext in a millisecond.

After about 15 minutes of methodically working our way through the unit, the interview began to dwindle and suffer some awkward pauses. I found myself both overwhelmed and sad. I had so much information crammed into my brain that I felt like I could run my own "underground" dialysis boutique, but at the same time I didn't want Brandon to stop talking ... stop sharing. Our tour had come full circle and we were once again in the unit's reception and waiting area. Five people were waiting in various stages of nervousness for treatment. Looking around I tried desperately to manufacture some last-minute questions to stall my dismissal. In my head, though, each query seemed incredibly inane.

Brandon's voice cut through my mental panic. "If you have a few more moments, there IS one other thing I'd like to show you." He seemed slightly nervous, his steely blue eyes skidding off my hazel ones as if direct eye contact would give something away. "I'm not sure it will add much to the story, but it might offer a personal angle you weren't expecting."

I immediately agreed and, after telling the receptionist that he would be back once the "newspaper thing" was handled, Brandon escorted me out of the dialysis clinic and down a series of small corridors. We passed almost no one and arrived quickly at a dead end. Before us was a small door that read "Departmental Storage: Approved Personnel Only." Access required a keycard which Brandon swiftly produced as if by magic. One swipe and the lock clicked from red to green. Brandon pulled the door open and stepped into the darkness beyond. A soft click was followed by the room being bathed in bluish light. I took a few tentative steps inside the chamber. It was a simple storage area jammed with several padded "lounges" like from the dialysis unit and monitors similar to the ones I had just seen on my tour. Metal shelves along one wall housed a variety of boxes and bins containing who-knows-what medical miscellanea. As I was gawking at the room's assortment of supplies, the door closed behind me and the lock engaged.

"This was a real coup for the dialysis people ... dedicated storage." Brandon's voice sounded muffled in the small space. "Only a few of us have clearance to access this place, so it's pretty private."

"Real homey," I chuckled as I continued to look around and wondered what story details could be hidden here. "So this is where you ..." As I turned, Brandon rushed up to me and placed his moist lips over mine. After my initial surprise faded, my mouth parted and accepted ... no, welcomed ... the nurse's exploring tongue inside. God damn, I thought while an involuntary moan softly escaped my chest, this fucker can kiss!!

As our mouths melded and churned, my hands began to roam over the beefy contours of Brandon's torso. His flesh was strong, but yielding. Moving lower, my hands found the hem of his scrub top and began pulling it up. Our kiss broke momentarily ... long enough to work the garment over his head. Brandon eagerly leaned back in to resume the liplock, but I held him at bay. His hairy chest and large pinkish nipples were glorious. I also noticed that, like me, he had an intricate tattoo on his left shoulder ... his Celtic while mine bore a tribal design. "Fuck, you're beautiful," I whispered. Brandon's signature smirk surfaced and I took that as a "go" sign. I began licking the hair on his pecs into sticky whorls. The nurse responded with a quivering in his body and a catch in his breath. I zeroed in on one salmony nip and began to tug and chew lightly. Brandon's continued sighs urged me on.

While I stood there "nursing," Brandon worked open my belt and unzipped my pants. The sound of my descending zipper was unusually loud and sensual in the storage room. Suddenly I realized that Nurse Brandon and I were moving at full speed into serious sex territory and a case of unexpected nerves swept over me. I pushed away, panting slightly as I observed both my briefs-covered bulge peeking out of my pants and the wet spot on Brandon's scrub pants where his cockhead was leaking pre-cum. He IS freeballing, I thought briefly. Cool!!

"Dude," I exclaimed, "what if someone needs something and comes in here. Our jobs ..."

"Shhhhhh, sexy man. Like I said ... limited access. I'm the only one on duty this shift with a keycard ... except for the maintenance supervisor, and he's kind of cute." Brandon winked and continued, "and if there is an emergency, they'll page me." He pointed to the small beeper attached to his discarded top. "Plenty of warning."

"Well, you've thought of everything," I stated as I exhaled a deep breath I didn't even realize I was holding in. "You must do this a lot," I added as I began unbuttoning my shirt.

In a blur, Brandon used one hand to stop my actions and the other to lightly grab my jaw. His eyes were so clear and they bore into my own like tiny lasers. "No ... I ... don't," he said emphatically. "But I was really afraid to let you leave today without making a move. This is very unusual for me ... but I just got this feeling I couldn't shake. Almost a ..."

"Panic." We said the word together. I grinned and Brandon finally graced me with a full smile of his own. I pushed my slacks and briefs down past my knees, my uncut cock bouncing free. Brandon's eyes dropped to follow the motion of my phallus. Then, with the agility of a gymnast, the blond health care professional dropped to his knees and began lapping at the crown of my dick. Brandon rolled his neck, working my pecker seductively around his warm mouth. Then ... before I even registered the movement ... my rod was gone. Buried. Brandon's lips were clamped around the root of my stalk and his throat and tongue were working my entire shaft. Jesus Christ, I screamed in my head. Where the fuck did this dude learn to suck cock!!!

I stood there writhing until Brandon scooted forward, pushing me back against one of the spare dialysis cots. I sank slightly into the cushions but stayed at a good elevation for the blond cocksucking maestro to continue playing me like a piccolo. Brandon's lips kept a tight suction on my meat while his face rode my rod. Occasionally, he would peer up at me to get my attention. As soon as our gazes met, he would perform some sinister movement with his tongue that stretched and prodded my tight foreskin ... or hollow out his cheeks to squeeze my shaft even more tightly. Brandon's hands also kept busy, playing with the root of my cock as well as my carefully-shaved balls, his movements running the scales from short, staccato slurps and tweaks to lavish, legato licks. He hummed as he worked his magic, sending shivers radiating down my thighs and deep into my chest.

Brandon planted his hands on my hairless thighs to stabilize himself, his eagerness producing ghostly impressions on my flesh. His tongue continued to dance along the sensitive underside of my dick. My breath was coming in rasps and my body instinctively humped forward, trying to drive my cock even faster and further into Brandon's maul.

How is he doing this? kept running through my mind. In less than five minutes, I could feel my balls desperately wanting to detonate. I had never received head like this in my life ... it was definitely something I could get used to.

As I felt a definite contraction deep in my groin, I put on the brakes and pushed Brandon away by the shoulders. By the time he released my cock he had a wet grin on his face ... he most certainly knew the skills he possessed. "You look pretty happy," he said, his accent taking on a cockiness.

"You think so?" I replied, leaning back into the bed for support.

"What I think," he lewdly said, "is that I could use some similar attention from you."

Brandon rose to his feet and kissed me tenderly, using his tongue to offer me a taste of myself. As we necked, Brandon and I rotated positions so that he was standing against the dialysis lounger. His pre-cum stain had spread further along his tool, causing the fabric of his scrubs to become translucent. I knelt quickly and lapped at the stickiness. Brandon sighed and actually grabbed my head lightly, shoving my face firmly against his rock-hard cock. I sucked the sweet man-nectar through the fabric. I then turned my head and announced, "dude ... I may not have your deep-throating abilities, but I'm gonna do my best to rock your world!"

Brandon kicked off his shoes and deftly removed his socks. I grasped his pants and helped him shimmy out of them. He stood before me completely naked and I took a moment just to appreciate his beauty. Brandon's flesh was creamy and covered with patches of hair. A very light sheen of perspiration dotted his chest and tummy. His cheeks were reddened from his oral exertions. His blond hair was slightly damp, appearing darker and even more enticing.

But it was the spongy cock now displayed before me that held my attention most. Flushed with a healthy pink tint, Brandon's prick was contoured with heavy ridges and striations, many runnning the length of his 6 1/2-inch member. The base of his dick was crowned with lush ashy curls of pubic hair that peppered lightly down onto his ample scrotum. His shaft looked thick and moist and my jaws ached to get started sucking along the pronounced ridge along the top of the shaft.

"Shit, man," Brandon hissed as he drilled me with his blue orbs. "I need to feel some tongue on my cock!"

I batted playfully at his sturdy prong. "So you want me to taste it? Need me to lick that bitch cock?" With deliberate slowness, I ran my left index finger over the head and sloppily deposited a drop of drooling pre-cum into my mouth. Brandon reacted to my delicate touch with a raking shiver. My lips smacked noisily as I guzzled its sweetness.

"Fuck, dude ... stop teasing. Please ..."

Wasting no more time, I encircled Brandon's mushroom knob and applied gentle but steady pressure. The sexy nurse emitted a low moan as I relaxed my throat muscles and his prod pushed further inside. "Damn ... shit ... that feels great!! You're no fuckin' slouch, dude ... aggggghhhhh!!"

I gurgled a reply and continued to work my tongue as Brandon moved his pelvis ... thrust and retreat and thrust and retreat. His hands began to weave through my hair, distracting me from the thickness of his tool. My head bobbed on his meat and he offered quiet, urging words. After a few moments, I sort of lost myself and my nose met the surface of his stomach.

"Choke on it, bitch!" he hissed at me harshly. "Choke on my fucking cock!!"

The dirty talk fueled my libido and I continued sucking Brandon aggressively ... eating his cock to its base on every thrust ... for a dozen or so more plunges before a need for air snapped my brain back into focus. I slowly worked my way off his pecker and, after a few steadying breaths, I dropped my shoulders a few more inches and began to nuzzle Brandon's shaggy ballsac.

"OH FUCK," he howled. "Eat my balls, man ... chew me good! Yeah, like that ... God damn, suck those nuts!!"

I explored his gonads like a starving man. First I bathed the crinkled flesh in waves of spit. Moisture literally dripped from Brandon's scrotum as I gave each nut some individual attention, including popping each walnut-sized gland into my mouth where I could apply some pressure and stretch out the tiny cords and ducts hiding inside. Brandon, in turn, made noises like a large rutting animal. The sexual sounds just amped up my enthusiasm.

After what I deemed to be a sufficient amount of time, I released my hold on Brandon's balls. Working my hands to cup his fleshy ass, I prodded him away from the cot and onto his feet and manuevered him around 180 degrees. Guiding him so he slowly bent at the waist, I was presented with a dangling dick and Brandon's magnificently hirsute ass. The asscrack was a luscious forest of dark blond fur. A light musky scent met my nostrils as I leaned in and spread open his glutes.

And there ... ringed in a cluster of dense hairs ... was a dark tan asshole. The rim was delightfully crinkled and the flesh flexed and pulsed subtly as if Brandon was nervous about what was coming next. I moved to within inches of his rosebud, the hairs dancing from my warm breath. "Oh fuuuuccckkkkk," he moaned as I lightly trailed my fingers along his crack. As I continued to play with the satiny flesh, my tongue darted out and made physical contact with Brandon's anus. A jolt of sexual electricity shot through my head and on to my leaking dick. Brandon rocked softly on his knees as his rectal nerve clusters went out of control.

Brandon's moans quickly elevated to lusty growls as I continued to eat his velvety rump. With my plump tongue, I carefully swabbed all around the rim of his spasming pinch. Each contact produced a series of "oohs" and "aahs" that grew in volume as I zeroes in on his hole. I also used

my thumb to masage his taint to add to his pleasure. My lips smacked; his ass pushed back to envelop my face. "God damn, that feels sweet ... I love having my hole licked!" he exclaimed.

"Well I love your ass," I added between sucking strongly on his rectum, "I wanna own it!" And to accentuate my point, I spit on my index figer and roughly wormed it up his shitter.

"AGGGHHHH!!" he responded. "You fucker ... go deeper. DEEPER!!" I reached through Brandon's legs and milked out a thick squirt of pre-cum. In one fluid motion, I withdrew my index finger and plunged in two lubed ones from my other hand. "MOTHERFUCKER!!!" he practically screamed.

Using fingers from both hands, I poked and twisted around in Brandon's ass. Every time I grazed his prostate his cock dribbled a healthy dose of goo; every time I snagged or stretched his anal ring the nurse made a gargling noise deep in his throat like he was out of his mind with desire.

After a few minutes of working him over, Brandon's hole had relaxed enough so that my entire tongue was slipping deep inside. His hole had blossomed open before me, revealing the pink depths of his colon. The sensations of tasting and feeling the texture of his chute was amazing ... mindblowing. My entire tongue wiggled in the confines of his ass, lapping at his heated core. I felt connected to this man in a way that I had achieved with very few others. I was almost afraid to keep going for fear of breaking the spell. But my pecker needed some relief.

Using a reverent tone I broached a very simple question, hoping that my voice didn't sound like desperate begging ... "Can I fuck you?"

"I was thinking you'd never ask," he responded frantically. As I rose to retrieve a condom from my clothing, Brandon braced himself on his elbows and spread his ass even wilder. His gash was slightly reddened and shiny from my spit. Once the rubber was in place, I spit in my hand and applied a liberal amount of drool to my shaft. Brandon had lowered his head to rest on the dialysis bench; his legs flexed slightly as he lifted his ass and presented my with his molten pit.

"Stick that cock in me, baby," he urged. "Need that cock ..."

Stepping forward, I batted my hard dick against his sphincter ... teasing him with my swollen knob. "Feel that?" I asked.

His playful laughter rang out in the small space. "Yeah ... feels great, but fuck me already, dude ... I want to feel you inside me so damn bad!!" With a push of my hips as my only response, the head of my dick disappeared into heaven. "Ohhhhhhhh shhhhiiiiittttt!!"

Brandon continued to pant and swear; I rubbed his shoulders and stroked his back as I buried more of my prick up his backside. "Fuck ... you're soooooo big!" he slurred.

When my balls pressed into the flesh of Brandon's ass I stood perfectly still to allow my body to process all the fantastic feelings flooding my mind. I could feel the nurse's internal muscles squeezing, urging me to get the show on the road. Very slowly, I withdrew my dickhead to the edge of Brandon's hole and then slowly worked it back in to the hilt. After doing this five or six times, the resistance lessened and the ride became tight and steady. "Ooooooh, yeah ... fuck that ass," he hissed. "Like that ... ooooh, fuck me ... fuck me!"

I continued my long strokes, sweat rolling off my forehead and chest. My arms and lower back ... still covered by my opened shirt ... felt damp, as did the backs of my knees and the crack of my hairless ass. Brandon's channel was like silk ... hot, savagely contracting silk. He milked my cock as it drove deeper into his depths. On most of my thrusts, Brandon made a squeaking noise that is difficult to describe but it made the animal part of my brain just want to shove in with a ferocity I had seldom experienced. I was meeting Brandon's grunts with sexual sighs and moans of my own.

I was so lost in this man ... this fuck. I was mesmerized by his body and by the sight of my moist meat pummeling his posterior. In ... out ... in ... out. Suddenly, I was pulling my cock completely free from his anus. My eyes widened to see his sphincter remain gaping a bit, beckoning my prick to come back inside. And it did ... deliberately and wickedly with a painful force I could barely stand.

"Dude," I whispered with some urgency. "I'm soooooo fucking close. Your hot ass is pulling the cum right out of me!" I slapped his ass playfully and then palmed each cheek, watching the accumulated sweat cling to his hairs. "What do you want me to ..."

"I want you to come inside me, babe ... I wanna feel that dick of yours kick out all it's got!"

"SWEET!," I snorted and gripped him by that hips in a savage stance. My fucking at this point had no finesse. I was slamming into his hot hole and he was forcing himself back onto my bulging prick. I was barely able to utter a scream before some magical switch tripped and I started unloading my seed into the condom and Brandon's beauticious ass. I continued to pump into him as my meat swelled, spit, and began to soften. I fell onto his back, relishing the sticky contact and the feel of his rushing heart.

After who knows how much time had passed, I felt Brandon stir to reposition himself and I pushed off. He turned and hopped up a bit to sit on the padded cot. His cock and groin were covered in semen and dark spots dotted the fabric of the bed in several places. Pretty stains, I thought. It was then that I noticed a small puddle of off-white ooze on the store room floor. Fuck, that boy's a gusher!! Brandon smiled as if he read my mind. His eyes dropped as he reached out and extracted the prophylactic from my penis. He held a bloated balloon up to the light and eyed it lewdly. "Nice sample, chief!" he said with a wink.

It took a few moments for Brandon to locate some basic cleaning materials. We mopped up our bodies and his spillage and were dressed in record time. Back in the hospital corridors, we retraced our steps slowly. Again, stalling for time. At the hospital atrium he extended his arm and we shook hands. Even the connection between our fingers was difficult ... at least for me ... to terminate.

"Well," I said as my feet shuffled nervously. "It was very nice meeting you. The information you ..."

"What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?" His burst of interrogative startled me.

"Um, strawberry ... or mint chocolate chip. Yours?"

"Good strong vanilla or Rocky Road."

The awkward pause returned, but with an even deeper texture. "You know, I have about 10,000 more questions I wanna ask."

There was excitement in my reply. "Me too."

"I don't work this weekend and there's two things I really wanna do."

"Such as?"

"Well, for starters ... ask some of those questions."

"And the second thing." My heart felt like it was skipping beats waiting for the answer.

"Have my turn at fucking that sweet ass of yours!"

As we exchanged cell numbers and agreed on the "terms" of my butt's weekend surrender, I knew that Nurse Brandon was maybe gonna become a big part of my life. My own face broke inmto a smirk of its own.

HEADLINE: Nursing: More A "Calling" Than A Career

Remodeling Pays HUGE Dividends

OK ... I thought my editor was just fucking with me when he handed me a contact file and the basic concept for the story he wanted me to write. With the weather turning cold, he got the idea that people might be interested in tips for "winterizing" their homes. There were several of us working on different angles and I was being asked to research and write a short piece on replacement windows. Yep ... six years of college and several months of proving myself to finally get the "juicy" beats like home improvement! Maybe it was time to start sending out résumés.

Anyway, I had just talked to the owners of several remodeling and residential construction companies and my head was swimming with manufacturer names ... Andersen, Kohler, Champion, Jeld-Wen, Pella, etc. ... and energy cost savings and heat transfer efficiencies and R-values. But I did get the names of several customers who were eager to provide comments about their particular remodeling projects and the results.

While I was at the last interview, the manager had actually called a customer who was nearby and readily agreeable to a quick interview. This gentleman was working at homefor the day and was available immediately. He was even willing to let me take photos of his home ... he was totally pleased with the work.

I was semi-jazzed when I pulled up in front of a well-kept city home in a residential area that had recently seen a wave of urban renewal. It was a mixture of older brick and a nicely-clad room addition. Empty-for-now pots and window boxes lent the structure an earthy charm. And throughout, the clean casings of new windows gleamed in the winter sunlight. It was a very attractive home.

I turned off my vehicle's engine, quickly checked myself in the flip-down sun visor mirror ... damn, do I ever sleep? ... and exited my car with notepad and camera in tow. Even though some light snow had fallen earlier in the week, the path to the slightly-ornate door was clean and pristine. I mounted the small stoop and rang the bell. A soft chiming sound could be heard inside the domicile.

After the briefest wait, a latch slid open and standing before me was an incredibly attractive man ... early to mid 40s ... with short, maybe-thinning brown-black hair and a dazzling smile. "Can I help you?" he asked, his warm and friendly tone washing over me like the heat escaping from his home into the outdoors.

"Are you Jason?" I asked. "Tom from Sechmore Remodeling just spoke with you ... I'm from the ..."

The smile from the man I assumed was Jason switched from normal intensity to high-beams. "The reporter," he said with genuine enthusiasm. "I've been rushing around tidying up since Tom phoned. A little winded but delighted to meet you." Jason's hand shot out to engulf my just-raising limb. His body exuded the same warmth as his personality, and I immediately took notice of his strong fingers and hirsute forearm. Damn, I mused, what a hunk of man!

Jason ushered me in and promptly took my overcoat. After depositing it in a small side closet, he demurely asked me to remove my shoes because of the floors and delicate rugs. Only then did I notice that he was already barefoot, each toe carefully pedicured and adorned with prickly-looking dark hairs. After complying he walked me into a very comfortable rustic living room ... lots of tasteful accents and photographs but not overdone. Stylish and designy but masculine too. On the short journey, I managed to glimpse a dining alcove and an all-seasons room addition as well as get a good gander at Jason's studly form ... 5' 8" I guessed, with a beefy figure that teased of a sweet rump, burly chest, and more delicious man-fur.

We took facing positions on a small armless leather sofa and Jason immediately began extolling the many positive things he had experienced working with Tom from Sechmore and his team of installers. "I'm kind of a perfectionist and I really wanted to understand what work was being done. Tom dropped by himself twice to make sure we were happy with the progress. In fact, it was Tom's diligence in explaining our options that got us to dig deeper and go for triple-paned windows instead of the double-pane models we had originally selected. He never made us feel like our questions were silly."

I took lots of notes, trying to keep good eye contact ... damn, Jason's eyes modulated between warm honey and rich maple syrup ... while occasionally stealing a surreptitious glance at the lump in Jason's olive chinos. The shape of the bulge looked slightly different from time to time ... like maybe his cock was flexing or growing a bit as we chatted. I know mine was doing a little rumba in my boxer briefs.

"Everyone was so respectful of our needs ... even the fact that we had excitable pets," the hunky homeowner continued. "One of the installers even brought treats one day for our two dogs. Just a great, competent bunch of people."

I decided to go off my planned approach and ask a question that had been plaguing me for a few moments. I placed my pad in my lap, covertly pressing against my hard 8-inch pecker just to feel the sensation of physical contact with my needy dick jolt along the pathways of my nervous system. I made sure not to let my body display anything. "So, you've used a plural pronoun several times now ... so your wife and family are pleased with the work also?"

With a knowing smile, Jason popped to his feet and crossed to a small fireplace. After poking the logs a few times to encourage the meager-but-picturesque flames, he grabbed a small frame from the mantle and returned to the sofa. The cushion made a small, almost-sexy noise as his posterior settled and turned slightly. He handed me a silvered 8" X 10" frame with a very formal photograph of himself and another handsome, bespectacled man of the same approximate age ... both in matching tuxedos and smiling warmly. "That's Matt, my husband ... I inherited this home and we've been putting some finishing touches on it. It's been an exhausting process so we are extra appreciative for contractors and workers who take pride in doing their jobs well."

Jason was looking at me oddly, enjoying that maybe his declaration had shocked me or "socially educated" me or something. "I think Matt would enjoy talking with you too," he piped in. "Would that help with your story?"

"Well, that would be a great angle to pursue but I have two other homeowners that have also agreed to provide some comments." I didn't want to lose Jason's enthusiasm. And besides, they way he had said the word talking had made my cock jump. So I added, "but I'd love to have some contact information for you and Matt so I can follow up if the need arises. Would that be cool?"

Jason looked pleased with the compromise. "Certainly ... would you excuse me for a moment? I really need to check on something in the kitchen."

I started to rise. "You've been more than generous with your time ... I should be going ..."

"NO! It will just take me a moment. Look around and I'll be right back." Jason seemed very adamant as he waited to see that I had settled back onto the sofa before scurrying off to another part of his residence.

After admiring his departing ass, I set my pad and pen on the floor in a flap of my camera bag and walked over to the hearth to replace the photo. There were several other photos of the sexy pair ... with a larger group of friends, with their dogs in a lush park, on vacation, etc. They seemed very happy. Wonder who plays top dog? I fantasized as I adjusted my crotch to "de-puddle" the growing amount of sap I was leaking.

Leaving the fireplace behind, I sauntered over to a pair of French doors. Looking inside I spied a luxurious hot tub or soaking spa flanked by several windows tightly obscured by plantation shutters. There were wine glasses and towels sitting haphazardly near the tub while the water moiled about. Several plants seemed to be thriving in the lounge or solarium or whatever appellation the homeowners gave this space. I stealthily opened one of the doors and stuck in my head for a closer look. Sitting on a low side table just outside of my reach was an ornate glass bowl filled with condoms and assorted bottles of lube. I'd go with playroom, I thought with a devilish grin.

"That's one of our favorite rooms to relax in." At the sound of Jason's voice I pulled back guiltily and pulled the door closed so hard that the glass inserts rattled. He winced a bit at my rough treatment of his home but his playful smile never wavered. "Our friends like it too," he added as he moved a few steps closer. His right hand slowly reached out to make contact with my left bicep. "Do you wanna be our friend?"

I barely had time to register his intent before Jason dropped down to his knees and fumbled with my belt and zipper. Once sufficiently loosened, he reached around and worked my slacks and underwear down to around my knees. My cock was hard and moist and begging to be sucked and Jason readily accepted the invitation. Looking up, he engulfed just my knob, toying with me with his tongue mercilessly. The suction he generated became powerful and I hoped my knees would keep me upright.

"God damn ... that feels fucking awesome," I groaned lamely as I leaned back against the wall for support, "but, dude, this is so inappropriate. This is my job ... AGGGGGHHHHHH ... and you're married or ... OOOOOOOOH ... or whatever." Jason gurgled something in reply, sending ripples of pleasure down my cock shaft. I reached down and petted his head, encouraging him to take on more of my dick. Fuck it, I decided. This dude's mouth is so sweet I don't give a shit if there's a pink slip waiting for me when I get back!

Jason's one hand had formed a tight ring around the base of my tool. His other was tickling and squeezing my nuts just to the point of discomfort. Every ounce of blood trapped in my shaft screamed for sexual release. I continued to rifle through his wispy dark hair while he bobbed on my cock.

Very suddenly, Jason released my member and took a few deep inhalations. His mouth was wet, his lips smooth and plump like luscious berries. "Buddy, I wanted to get at you from the moment I opened the door. And my partner and I have an understanding when we let the other know what's going on." For emphasis, he grabbed my rod and tugged on the tight foreskin a few times, making my knob play "rabbit hole" a few times. Jason had a big smile on his face as he started to help me lift my legs to step out of my garments.

"How could Mike ..."

"Matt."

"Matt ... how could Matt know what you and that talented mouth are doing?"

The smile ... which I had seen at normal, intense, and mega-watt settings ... took on a mischievous "Cheshire" quality. "Because I called him earlier from the kitchen to get his OK, silly. So, are you still game?" Now free from my pants, I was pulled forward and Jason took a playful, languid lick along my tool.

"Try and stop me," I replied. With more aggression than planned, I pulled Jason to his feet and crushed his lips against mine. His mouth split apart almost instantly and I tasted his tongue and the familiar flavor of my own sex. I gasped from the intensity of this man's passion and the animal heat he emitted.

Without technically breaking the kiss, Jason lead me back to the leather sofa. We parted long enough for me to lose my oxford shirt and socks. Once naked, I leaned back against the couch back and watched admiringly as Jason removed his clothing. He had a bulky build, but strong and manly. And the dark hair that covered him was glorious. But as his pants and boxers hit the floor, all sound and sensation in the room stopped ... there was only Jason's dick.

Six thick inches of clipped, veiny meet curved away from Jason's thicket of feathery dark pubes. the head practically glowed with dark pink lust, a lovely contrast to the tracery of fine bluish capillaries that swirled around the towering column. I licked my lips absentmindedly

In a blur, Jason and I assumed a 69 position ... him on his back and me hovering over him hungrily. Jason resumed his friendship with my phallus, taking me nearly to the root while contracting his cheeks and throat to get me off.

"Shit ... oh shit ... ohhhhhh, SHIT!" I chanted before lowering my face closer to Jason's groin. I first sniffed his cock, loving the powerful musk it exuded. Then with careful licks, I bathed his knob and devoured every trace of sweet pre-cum. Jason tasted natural and dark and earthy like sugar cane. Every so slowly I swallowed about two-thirds of his girth and bobbed on his dick with all the skills I possessed.

My cocksucking met with approval. Jason moaned around my own prick and suctioned my member with renewed vigor. After a few moments, I felt the delightful tingle of one of Jason's fingers lightly circling my rectum. I gulped greedily as his pithy probing became more forceful. I bleated like a goat as I felt each knuckle of a not-so-slender finger penetrate my pucker. I abandoned Jason's cock to swing my head around and catch a glimpse of him sliding up to get better purchase on my own beefy butt. Soon a second finger joined the fray and he used a corkscrewing motion to repeatedly graze my prostate. All I could do was gasp and moan ... nonsense noises filled the room every time he twisted his delving digits. Can it get any better?, I thought as I noticed my breath had modulated into a rhythmic panting.

Stupid question because, almost like he read my querying thought, Jason affixed his lips over my sensitive hole. Between sucking, licking, and blowing hot air against my hairless anus, I found myself forcing my rump back against Jason's slightly-stubbled cheeks. The contrasting feelings were making me lightheaded. "Christ, man ... I'm gonna faint before this goes much further! Oooooh!! You're playing me like a banjo ... go deeper, dude ... I can take it!!"

I dropped my head and could see that Jason had scooted almost off the sofa. From that angle, his cock looked thicker and more amazing than ever. Now basically on my knees and elbows, I shuffled forward enough to break contact with Jason. His face was moist with a combination of spittle and my juices. He looked dazed from the sudden break in contact. "Wha'," he muttered, "shit, your hole tastes so wonderful. I could eat you all afternoon!" To accent his comment, Jason lewdly licked his lips.

"Dude," I giggled. "It feels fucking wonderful, but I'm dripping hard. I need something bigger in my hole and you seem to be swinging just what I need." Jason smiled and adroitly crawled off the end of the sofa. He disappeared but was back on the scene in seconds with a condom packet. While Jason tore open the wrapper and covered his exquisite rod with ultra-thin latex, I flipped onto my back and positioned my ass at the very edge of the leather loveseat. Jason hoisted my legs up and placed them around his midsection. I playfully rubbed his hairy ass with the rough heels of my feet, causing him to stare deeply into my eyes.

Trying to relax my hole for what would most definitely be a scrumptious entry, I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing. Jason noisily spit into his hand several times and I squirmed as he eagerly applied the lubricant to my needy sphincter. I felt him tease my hole with the very tip of his tool and I spread my thighs even wider. "Open your eyes," Jason said commandingly. "I want to see your face when I go in."

"Anything for you, baby," I cooed, "anything to ...AGGGHHHHHHH!!" Jason's knob and maybe two thick inches of meat slid in and I grimaced, eyes wide. He smirked a little, but waited for me to quiet before feeding me more.

"Jesus, you're a tight fucker," he said, perspiration beading his forehead. He grunted softly as a bit more cock entered me.

"And you're so fucking thick ... feels like a cucumber ... a bat."

"HAHA!!" he snorted. "That makes me feel good, buddy. Your imagination is stroking my ego and your hot ass is trying to crush my dick. It's magnificent ... AHHHHH!!!" And just like that, Jason was balls deep up my ass. My ring felt like it was burning ... like actual sparks were forming where I gripped his thick salami. I never wanted the sensation to end.

It might have been ten seconds or ten minutes ... my vision had blazed white when Jason withdrew the majority of his cock and then plunged back in fully. Now he was sawing into my ass with steady strokes and wet, slapping noises rudely filled the air. "Oh, Jason ... you're killing me. I feel like my whole body is on fire," I exclaimed as I used one hand to pinch my nipples and the other to work my rigid pole. "Feed me that cock! Deeper! Harder ... fuck my ass harder!! SHIT!! AGGGGGHHHHH!! OOOOOOOOOOH!!"

Jason laughed from his chest. "You're one noisy fucker ... I love it!!" He had a loving expression on his face and his gaze traveled from my chest to my crotch to a point somewhere behind me.

I was about to deliver a sexy retort when a second voice split the air and caused my breath to catch. "Maybe I can quiet him down a little." Suddenly, another man ... naked and hard with a slender and succulent stalk ... moved into my field of vision. He was stocky and quite a bit taller than Jason ... 6' or 6' 1" ... with lighter hair and a pinker skintone. He was also less hairy than the beast pounding my ass but just as sexy and appealing. It was Matt ... Jason's husband.

"What the hell?" I sputtered. "I thought you were at work ...thought you were okay with ..."

"Shhhhhhhhhh ... relax, man," Matt playfully chided. "Take a breath ... hahaha. When my man called to see if he could 'play,' I told him I was gonna fake a reason to leave work and come join you." Matt then eyed Jason, who smiled but averted his eyes from his partner's sexy glare. "But apparently," he continued, "someone couldn't keep it in his pants!"

"Well look at him, Matt! And he was soooooooo giving off all the signals of a hottie who needs fucked!"

Matt looked at me with a look like a mother with a precocious child. "It's true," I stated with a wink. Matt took just enough time to smile before he scooted closer. Without any further prompting, I swallowed his beautifully pale piece and Jason resumed his high-tempo thrusting into my pit. "Damn," Matt hissed after just a few seconds, "half a day's pay is nothing compared to this fucker's mouth.

Matt was an enthusiastic throat fucker ... his meat was banging my tonsils as fast as his hips could manage. And his prick tasted tangy, almost citrusy. It was like candy and sex combined. While I suckled on the tasty treat between his legs, I gripped and groped his round ass with one of my hands and even ran a few fingers in the sweaty crack. He responded with a deep groaning and tried to make me swallow his bag and balls too. My undulent hips were attempting to meet each of Jason's long strokes as well as force my own dick faster and faster into my other slick cupped hand.

Suddenly, my nads drew up tight and I teetered over a sexual precipice. "Ugggggghhhhhhhh!!" I gurgled loudly around Matt's prick while I shot my load of milky goodness all over my belly and well-trimmed pubes. I worked my dick for several minutes, cum leaking down my shaft and onto my bald balls.

The sight of my detonation rocked Jason, as did the convultions of my leg and hip and rectal muscles. He barely had time to announce "I'm gonna come!!" before he gripped my thighs angrily and forced his cock as deep as it would go. "God damn," he shrieked to the exposed beams as I felt his hard prong pulse and throb as it delivered its load into the prophylactic. "YEAH ... YEAH ... YEAH!!!"

My hole quivered from the exquisite girth of Jason's cock, but it knew it would soon be abandoned. Would be impolite to ask for Matt to step up to the plate, I wondered. But the late-to-the-party hottie had other plans. As Jason stood heaving ... his breath struggling to steady ... his husband pulled his cock from my sucking lips and, while grunting like a wild beast, delivered several scalding blasts of cum across my face. With each spurt, Matt's "aaaahs" became more and more pleasurable. With my eyes closed, I laid there relishing the feelings of having my skin lightly splattered with his jizz.

Once the action subsided, someone swabbed my face with a towel. My eyes opened to Jason and Matt engaged in a deep kiss. My empty balls ached, trying desparately to fill quickly. Surprisingly, Matt was the one that broke the liplock. He lowered his face to mine and kissed me so very tentatively. As I stretched my head to try to capture him, he slid to the side and whispered in my ear "see you in a few." Then he was gone.

Most of the cum pooled on my belly had been rubbed into my skin, but Jason blotted my still-overheated skin with a second towel and helped me to my feet. Then he carefully removed the bloated condom from his reduced rod, held it up to the light, and then nonchalantly deposited it and the cumrags on a nearby glasstop-stand. "Maybe we should go get cleaned up a bit ... a few minutes in the shower might feel nice." I took Jason's proffered hand and followed on bare feet. "What about Matt?" I asked as we headed down a small hallway I hadn't noticed before. Jason stopped and reversed direction, pulling me along like an aimless little kid. Soon we were standing at the doors to the spa/soaking tub area. He gestured for me to look inside.

The room was dim ... What the hell time was it? I thought ... but some ceiling "cans" illuminated the tiled area nearest the spa. Looking through the glass panes, I watched Matt as he crouched, using the pull bar connected to the tub's two small steps. As he balanced facing away from me, I saw him reach around and rub two fingers into his asscrack. The light glinted off something shiny ... lube, I figured. Once greased, Matt worked the pair of fingers into his hole a few times, the muscles in his back and shoulders flexing seductively from the invasion. I turned toward Jason; he had drawn extremely close without me noticing to watch his partner pleasure himself. After a few moments of preliminaries, Matt reached into a small teak box and withdrew a gorgeous flesh-toned dildo. It was only a matter of seconds before he was working the phallus into his oiled anus.

I could easily have watched more of this surprising "peep show" but Jason tugged me away from the door and back down the secluded hallway. At it's terminus was a small but elegant three-quarter bathroom. My host quickly turned on the water in the open-style shower and ducked his head beneath the spray. After turning in a few tight circles, he beckoned me to join him.

While Jason was soaping my back with some type of bath "mitt," I decided to ask him a pointed question. "Dude, does your husband usually need further, um, stimulation, after sex like that?" I dropped my eyes in mild embarrassment. "Do you think my blow job wasn't good enough?"

Jason shot water onto my neck with his laughter. "What a silly man!" he exclaimed as he planted a light kiss on my shoulder. "Matt's just stretching his hole a little ... he wants your cock. Wants it bad!! I could see it in his eyes!!"

I smiled and melted back against Jason and his thickening cock. "Is there anything you'd like to have happen this evening?" he inquired. "We're very 'accommodating!' " I tilted my head back a bit more; Jason turned his ear to meet my murmuring lips. As soon as I finished my suggestion, I felt the first spray of Jason's warm piss as it coated my trembling ass. My grin grew to epic proportions and my dick wasn't far behind!

HEADLINE: Remodeling Pays HUGE Dividends