This story is created by snoozer (member of freegaypix.com). I do really love this story and always getting hard on while read it.
Part 1
Paul wasn't sure he could keep his cock in his pants for the next three hours. After lacrosse practice, he'd taken a long shower, waiting for Ryan to show up in the locker room. Ryan always made a point of walking into the shower naked, giving Paul a long glance, and ignoring him for the next twenty minutes. Every couple days, he would nudge Paul as he walked over to get his towel.
"Hey," he'd say. "Five minutes. My room."
Five minutes later they'd be naked in bed, with Paul's lips wrapped around the root of Ryan's thick cock. Paul had never seen a cock like that, big as hell, one thick vein running down the center, muscled, blunt-headed, always hard as a rock. He let his mouth bob up and down the shaft and he could almost cum without touching himself, waiting for Ryan's hot load to hit the back of his throat.
Today, Ryan hadn't showed up. Paul was more than fed up. After a couple weeks of blow jobs, he couldn't stand the game they were playing. Ryan still claimed he was straight, and made a big point of dragging some girl along whenever he saw Paul in a bar.
"Give it a rest," Paul said to him one night. "Your fucking twenty-one. Get over yourself."
Ryan had looked shocked, and Paul wondered if he'd gone too far. But the next day he was snaking his arms up Ryan's bare back, kneading the muscles in his legs, tonguing his cock, and waiting for the explosion that would fill his mouth with Ryan's juice.
Today it was going to change.
In an hour he would be at the bar, and in another hour he was going to take Ryan home. He didn't know how he would do it, but it was happening tonight. And when he got Ryan back to his place, he was going to fuck the kid's brains out.
He changed into a tight pair of jeans that gripped his hard butt, and slipped into a t-shirt, the sleeves tight where his biceps were bursting from the gym. He had a great body and he knew how to show it off, but thinking of Ryan--muscled from the pool--he had his doubts. He pulled out his cock and looked at in the mirror, a little longer than Ryan's, eight inches if slender. It was already hard in his hand.
At the bar, he caught Ryan's eye across the room, just as Ryan reached for some big-breasted girl and pulled her into a tight kiss. Paul thought the night would never end. He pounded three drinks and finally found himself next to Ryan, just as the girl insisted on leaving with her friends.
"She always does this shit, man," said Ryan. "I got a case of blue balls that could kill."
"I could take care of that for you," said Paul. "But you don't have the guts to let me."
"Oh I have the guts," said Ryan. "Just not the inclination. I don't want to fuck with your self-esteem, buddy, but I'm not really into guys. Getting head is all fine, but tonight I want to fuck, and when I want to fuck, I want to fuck a tight pussy. Know what I mean?"
Paul looked around the bar, the room beginning to enter out. He felt a combination of disgust, anger, and hardcore lust. He started toward the coat room, turning to beckon Ryan with a nod of his head.
"Come here," he said.
"Where are we going?" asked Ryan.
"Get the fuck over here," said Paul.
The coat room was small and dark, and they were alone there. Paul threw Ryan against the wall next to the rack of hangers. He noticed that Ryan didn't resist much.
"Don't get any ideas," said Ryan. "I'm not into you."
"You need to shut the fuck up," said Paul.
He put his body against Ryan's and ground his crotch into the other man's. Ryan struggled a bit and Paul gripped his wrists, pinning Ryan's arms against the wall above his head. Ryan threw back his head and let out a small groan of pleasure and Paul kissed down the muscles of Ryan's neck. He could feel Ryan's thick cock beginning to get hard, the bulge in his pants growing. He kissed Ryan full on the mouth, feeling the raw heat of the other man's tongue, the fullness of his lips, tasting the beer on his breath.
Just then, the lights went out. He noticed that the bar was silent. There were only two coats left on the rack: theirs. Somewhere in the darkened bar, a door shut. Staff shouted goodbyes. They were alone.
"This fucking sucks," said Ryan. "What do we do now?"
"What do we do?" said Paul. "We take advantage of the circumstances."
He pulled Ryan out of the coat room and tugged off Ryan's shirt. Light came through the windows from the street, highlighting every muscle in Ryan's full chest, his nipples standing hard in the cool air. Ryan gazed at Paul, thrusting his jaw forward in defiance. He slipped a finger under the waistband of his boxers, showing above his jeans.
"You think you're pretty smart, don't you?" said Ryan. "Now that you've got me here, you think you can have whatever you want."
"Yeah," said Paul. "That's right."
Paul pulled off his own shirt and noticed Ryan give him a quick glance, his eyes flashing with interest. He flexed one forearm in the light, admiring the way the muscles twitched. One more look, and he was on Ryan with the heat of a summer storm. This time, Ryan didn't fight it. He thought Ryan might devour him before they could even get their clothes off. He pealed off his jeans, kicking them away from his ankles, and felt Ryan's hands clasp first his ass then his growing cock, gathered against his full balls in the pouch of his square-cut boxer briefs.
Ryan dropped his pants and Paul tugged off Ryan's boxers, lifting him onto a table. Ryan pulled Paul in for another deep kiss, his legs wrapped around Paul's thighs. Paul threw Ryan down on his back on the tabletop and slid out of his briefs. His cock stood bare in the light from the street. Tonight he wasn't going to suck Ryan's cock. Ryan was going to ride his.
"What do you want to do with that?" said Ryan.
"That's a stupid question," said Paul, spreading Ryan's firm butt cheeks.
Paul spit in his hand and massaged his wet fingers into Ryan's ass.
"Hey," said Ryan. "Wait. I've never--"
He couldn't finish speaking. Already Paul's fingers were deep inside him, massaging the firm ball of his g-spot, inching further into his hot body. He laid his head back on the tabletop, tilting his chin upward, closing his eyes in pleasure. Every muscle in his gorgeous body stood tense and waiting. Paul worked his fingers deeper, massaging his own hard cock with his other hand. He was opening Ryan's ass to get it ready.
"You like that?" he asked.
"Yeah." Ryan was gasping, starting to stroke his cock. "Yeah. Give me more."
Paul needed no further invitation. He reached down into his jeans, piled on the floor, and pulled a condom out of his pocket. When he'd left home, he'd slipped it in beside his wallet, wondering if he was jinxing his chances. Now he smiled as he unrolled the slick latex down the length of his long, throbbing cock. His head was already wet, pre-cum streaming from his slit. He couldn't wait to feel Ryan's tight ass grip his shaft, to hear the noise Ryan would make as he was entered for the first time. He was going to give Ryan the ride of his life.
He started slow, pressing his cock head against the tight opening of Ryan's ass. He could feel Ryan seize up, excited but still stiff and closed. He worked with a steady pressure, pressing his wet cock into Ryan's asshole, and gradually he felt Ryan give way. He was slow and careful, riding into Ryan's ass inch by inch, waiting for Ryan to beg for more before he gave it to him with another slow thrust. Finally, he was buried up to the base of his cock in that tight virgin ass. Ryan's torso shone in the dim light, laid out in front of him like a Greek God, some lost adonis stretched out for the world to see. He pulled his cock partway out of Ryan's ass and slammed it back in, and Ryan moaned. He pulled out again, and again, ramming the whole length of his cock into that wet hot ass, feeling it grip down around his balls every time he slid inside. He fucked Ryan deep. Paul could feel Ryan's ass grip the head of his dick deep inside, with a warm firm pressure. Ryan arched his back on the table, his thick cock standing out above his washboard stomach. He stroked his dick and showered his chest with flecks of pre-cum.
With another moan, Ryan sat up, Paul's dick still inside him, and wrapped his arms around Paul's neck. Paul put his hands around Ryan's legs to hold him up, supporting his weight. Paul could almost see himself, in his mind, standing naked in the middle of his favorite bar, this muscled co-athlete wrapped around him, fucking like a machine. With every thrust he bounced Ryan off his thighs and Ryan whined and shuddered, begging for more. Ryan's lips were at his throat, his shoulders, his hot breath in Paul's ear, begging to be fucked, dominated, penetrated deeper and deeper. He couldn't believe it was actually happening, and he wasn't going to let the opportunity go to waste. He pulled all the way out and bent Ryan over the table, ready to take him from behind. Before Ryan could say another word, Paul stuck his cock in Ryan's ass all the way, so that his balls rested just behind Ryan's. He pounded Ryan fast and hard, slapping his thighs against Ryan's taught rounded butt. He put his hands on the muscled pad of Ryan's back, threw his head back and hammered Ryan as hard as he could, Ryan stretching out his hands to grip the table.
It was as if he couldn’t control his motions. Ryan drove him wild and it was all he could do not to tear Ryan apart. Another moment, and Paul was on his back on the table as Ryan climbed over him. Ryan stood on the tabletop, straddling Paul's prone form, jerking his dick off above Paul's face. A drop of his cum fell to Paul's lips and Paul tasted the hot salty liquid, ecstatic. He ran his hands up to Ryan's thighs and pulled the man down to sit on his cock. Ryan rode Paul like a horse, Paul's dick moving inside him deeper and deeper. They moved like one animal, moaning and cursing, their cries sounding off the walls of the room. Ryan's pecs and shoulders shone with sweat, and he wrapped both hands around the trunk of his cock while Paul tossed him with his thrusts.
"Oh God," moaned Ryan. "Oh God. You're so deep. Oh God. I'm going to--"
With a jerk and a cry, he began to cum. Paul hadn't sucked him off for a week, and apparently neither had anyone else. Ryan showered Paul's chest and face with cum, shooting farther with each stroke. He arched his back and let Paul have the fountain of his cum. His asshole spasmed around Paul's throbbing cock and Paul couldn't hold back any longer. He exploded in Ryan's ass, his heavy load filling the condom and running down his dick to soak his balls. He felt as if he came for an eternity, ramming his dick up into Ryan's ass, watching Ryan jerk and shoot all over him. Finally, spent, Ryan collapsed beside him on the tabletop, Paul covered in cum.
"So that's that," said Paul. "Fuck you and your stupid blowjobs, by the way. If you want to play after the shower, we're going to play by my rules."
Ryan reached down to hold his cock, still hard.
"Just tell me how soon," he said.
Part 2
Ryan woke up sore the next day. He looked around his dorm room and tried to remember the previous evening, and suddenly it all came rushing back. The bar, Marina leaving with her friends, Paul dragging him into the coat room, being left alone, and finally, that hour of fucking on a table in the middle of the room. It was the first time his ass had been entered, and he had loved every second.
He would never admit how much he loved it, though. If Paul wanted to spend his life fucking around with guys, that was one thing. Ryan might not mind a blow job now and then, but he was going to get his dick in Marina as soon as he possibly could.
It was Saturday, and he took a long shower, running his hands over his cock and balls, thinking of the way Marina's breasts bounced when they fucked, imagining her there with him. In his mind, he soaped her firm, full body with his big hands, and pressed her to his muscled body. He imagined her legs around his waist, her tight box inching down his hard cock. He looked down. His cock wasn't hard. Shit, he thought, this is how it happens. One night with that bastard and I've lost it. He tried beating his dick into submission, some hard yanks, his soapy fingers around his cockhead. The thick little monster wasn't moving.
Over a plate of eggs and bacon, he thought of nothing but Paul. He thought of the sweat that had coated Paul's chest, his muscles thrown into sharp relief by the light through the window. He thought of the way Paul's cock slid all the way out of his ass, teasing his sphincter, and plunged back in again, deeper every time, battering his prostate as he begged for release.
"What's with you, Ryan?" asked one of his teammates. "Our one day without practice and you don't even look happy about it."
"Lay off him," said another. "He's just tired from last night. Marina probably tired him out, right? He's the only one of you that got any looks."
"What kind of fag are you?" said someone else. "You checking out Ryan?"
"Aw shut up."
Ryan heard it all but didn't respond. He was trying to get his mind off Paul. One more time, he thought. I need it one more time, just to see. Just to see if it was as good as I thought it was. One more time, and then I'll never go back.
But he couldn't go to Paul. If he went to Paul to ask for a fuck, that was a victory for Paul. Paul had waited all semester for just such an invitation, for some sign that Ryan needed the contact, that Ryan wanted him as much as Paul wanted Ryan. Ryan couldn't give him that satisfaction. Besides, Paul wasn't a bad looking guy, but he was curious to see what was out there. If Paul fucked one way... did someone else fuck another way?
"Frankie," he called down the table to a friend. "You think I could borrow your car?"
"What for?"
"Oh nothing," said Ryan. "Marina wants to do some shopping in the city. That's all."
Frankie slid the keys down the tabletop.
Half an hour later, Ryan was tearing down the highway toward New York. Needless to say, Marina wasn't with him. He changed lanes to pass some slow cars, wondering if he'd get pulled over. He could just picture some burly state trooper asking him to step out of the car and into the woods for an hour, some guy with a huge belt buckle riding just above the bulge in his pants. Ryan was already hard and the thought made him pre-cum, a spot of wetness in his boxers.
He was headed for the only place he knew he could find sex in the day time, a hole full of hustlers. Growing up in Westchester, he'd spent plenty of time in the city. He remembered taking the train down with friends to buy weed, or bargain for fake IDs. On one of these trips, a friend had pointed out one particular bar, a hole in the wall open twenty-four-hours.
"That place is full of prostitutes," he had whispered to Ryan. "Guys who suck dick."
Ryan remembered it because his friend had told him a story: the story of how he saw their math teacher come out of the hole one morning, blinking in the sunlight, clothes a mess. Ryan imagined the night that old Mr. Logan must have had. He would have remembered the place anyway, without any additional tales. He was beginning to realize that he had a wealth of gay knowledge, things he had listened to without meaning to, things he remembered.
The place didn't have a name, and didn't display an address. If you were there, it was because someone had showed you the way. Ryan found a parking spot nearby on the street and thanked his luck. He arranged his cock in his pants and got out, locked the car, and headed for the entrance.
A set of stairs, a dingy hallway, and a thick-armed man opened a door for him.
"How's it going, son?" he said. "You here to buy or sell?"
Ryan hadn't considered the possibility of selling. He could have sex and get paid for it? What could be better? Of course, selling might limit his choices, but he didn't care. He was going to throw himself on the mercy of whoever came first. If it was someone he didn’t like, well, he'd like to see them try and fuck him then.
A couple other guys his age sat around at the bar, none muscled like he was. Over the next hour, some older guys crept in, nodded to someone, and went off into the back. Ryan couldn’t believe he wasn’t chosen, but then again, maybe he was intimidating. A little to good-looking, a little too new. Then someone else came to the door.
Burly, thick armed, a thick forest of hair spread across his massive chest, the man wore an old pair of jeans and a wifebeater. A thin layer of stubble spread across is chiseled jaw and thick, dark, sharp tattoos snaked down his arms. The manager stood in the door behind him, pointing to Ryan.
“That’s the new one,” he said.
The man nodded and the manager left. Ryan and the man stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. The man cracked the knuckles of one hand, and finally strode across the room to Ryan.
“I’m Clint,” he said.
“Ryan.”
“How much to fuck you?” said Clint.
“You don’t look like the kind of guy who has to pay for sex.”
“I don’t have to,” said Clint. “I like to. Roger calls me when he has something new. I break it in.”
“Break it in?” said Ryan.
“How much?” Clint asked again.
“I don’t—what do you think is reasonable?”
“I can tell you’re new,” said Clint. “Tell you what. I’m good for the money. We’ll fuck first; I’ll pay later.”
“That wouldn’t be very businesslike,” said Ryan with a smile.
“Hell,” said Clint. “You’d do it for free.”
Clint pulled Ryan off his barstool and led him to a back room.
“I should let you know,” he said. “I like to play rough.”
Ryan’s heart was in his throat, but he had no urge to pull away. Clint pushed him in the door, his thick hands on Ryan’s shoulders. The room was small, spare, and they were alone. A low bed sat in the corner with a single sheet. Mounted in the middle of the ceiling was a cast iron ring.
Ryan turned to Clint and Clint was on him in a second. Clint kissed him hard, driving his tongue into Ryan’s mouth. Clint tasted like coffee, and his mouth was warm. He kissed along Ryan’s jaw to his ear and bit his earlobe, harder than Ryan expected. Ryan let out a yelp, but didn’t have long to be embarrassed. Clint laughed and tugged his wifebeater over his head. Then he whipped out his cock.
Ryan had thought Paul was big, but Paul was nothing compared to the tree trunk lying in Clint’s hand. Clint’s dick must have been a good nine or ten inches long and as thick as a dick could be. It was already hard, the huge mushroom head swelling as Clint massaged it gently in his palm. Veins stood out on the shaft. Ryan’s mouth watered.
“You going to get naked?” asked Clint. “Do I need to convince you?”
“No problem,” said Ryan, trying to sound cool.
“No problem what?” said Clint.
Ryan couldn’t believe this was actually happening. This tattooed dominating woodsman type was something straight out of porn.
“No problem, sir,” he said in compliance.
“Suck my dick,” said Clint.
Clint put one hand on the back of Ryan’s head and brought Ryan to his knees. Another second and that huge cock was in Ryan’s mouth, pounding the back of his throat. A burst of precum slid across his tongue and he moaned.
“Yeah,” said Clint. “Make some noise, boy.”
Ryan couldn’t help himself. He kept moaning. He put one hand on Clint’s shaft and the other on his balls. Clint let his head fall back and sighed.
“Yeah, boy. Just like that.”
Ryan bobbed his head, letting Clint’s long shaft slide in and out of his mouth. He couldn’t get nearly all of it inside and he was starting to get worried about how it would ever fit in his ass. If it doesn’t work, he thought, I’ll just stop, and he won’t give me the money. I don’t care about the money anyway. But in the back of his mind, Ryan knew that if Clint wanted to fuck him, Clint would fuck him. He hadn’t bargained for a man as big as Clint, but now that he was in Clint’s hands, Clint owned him.
“Stand up,” Clint ordered.
Ryan stood.
“Take off your shirt,” said Clint.
Ryan did, and Clint whistled when he saw Ryan’s naked torso, and flicked one of Ryan’s nipples with a finger.
“Arms up,” said Clint. “There.”
Ryan put his arms above his head and Clint pulled out a length of thin, smooth rope. Ryan gulped. Clint put Ryan’s hands to the ring in the ceiling. The ring was low enough for Ryan to grab it without reaching, but just high enough to keep his body completely stretched out, ready for anything Clint would give him. Clint cinched the rope around Ryan’s hands, tying it tight.
“Don’t want you go get away,” said Clint, and smiled.
Ryan wouldn’t be able to get away, that was for sure. Clint kissed him again, hard on the mouth, then kissed down his body, around his nipples, down the center of his stomach to his belt. Clint undid Ryan’s belt buckle and let his pants fall to the floor. Then he tugged off Ryan’s boxers.
They were both naked. Ryan tied to the ceiling. Clint kneeling in front of him.
Clint spit in his hand and massaged Ryan’s cock until it stood hard as a rock. He moved behind Ryan and spread his ass cheeks.
“Let me have this ass,” he said. “Arch your back a little… there you go.”
Ryan bit his lip, worried, but then he felt Clint’s warm wet tongue curling around his hole. Clint spread Ryan’s cheeks farther apart, exposing his asshole, and worked his tongue deeper inside. He reached one hand around to massage Ryan’s cock at the same time. Ryan’s anxiety started to melt away. He leaned into Clint’s tongue, presenting his ass for Clint to explore. He relaxed, letting his weight hang off the ring in the ceiling, riding the tongue and the firm hand on his cock.
Clint pulled a bottle of lube from a cabinet in the corner. “Wish they had condoms my size,” he said. “Those I have to bring myself.”
Clint wet his fingers with the lube and worked them into Ryan’s ass, stretching open his hole. After the rim job, Ryan’s ass felt hungry and hot.
“Put them deeper,” he said.
“Okay, boy,” said Clint. “Getting eager?”
“Put your cock in me,” said Ryan, “sir.”
Turning his head over his shoulder, Ryan watched Clint roll an extra-large condom down his shaft. He worked his dick in his hand for a second, then took his position behind Ryan and entered him with one swift, searing movement.
Ryan hollered like he’d been stabbed.
“Yeah,” said Clint. “That’s the way I do it. Give me some noise.”
“Oh God,” said Ryan. “Pull out. God, it’s too much.”
“Just hold it inside you, boy,” said Clint. “I didn’t bust nothing. Just hold it inside you and ride it.”
Ryan did what he was told, forcing his ass to relax around Clint’s cock. He could feel the blood throbbing in those thick veins, and Clint started to ride him in slow thrusts. With every movement, Ryan felt as if his ass might break, but he liked the feeling, the danger of riding that monster cock. And in a few moments, the pain had decreased, and then vanished.
“Yes,” he said softly. “Do it now.”
Clint needed no instruction. He beat his dick into Ryan with heat and fury. He put his hard hands on Ryan’s taut, smooth body and worked his dick into Ryan’s ass farther than Ryan had ever felt possible. It was as if Clint filled Ryan’s body with an energy that sizzled from his ass to his fingertips and toes. He shook with every thrust, powerless to control the brutal force of Clint’s cock. He arched his back and let out animal noises, letting his ass be plundered by the man behind him.
Clint reached down past Ryan’s balls and put one hand under each of his thighs, lifting Ryan almost off his feet, hugging their bodies tightly together. Ryan couldn’t bear it anymore, and without even touching his dick he let loose a torrent of cum that arched in a three-foot spurt and landed just short of the wall. At the same time, he felt Clint release a hot load in his ass, jet after jet of cum swelling the condom. Clint left his arms around Ryan for a minute, panting into his neck. Then he bit Ryan’s shoulder lightly and pulled out with another swift moment.
“Not bad,” he said as he reached up to undo the rope that held Ryan’s hands. “I could teach you a few things, but it wasn’t bad for starters.”
“Thanks,” said Ryan. It was all he could think of to say.
“I don’t have enough cash on me,” said Clint. “I have to write you a check. Next time maybe we do it at my place, save time. Besides, I don’t want you selling to anyone else.”
“Sure,” said Ryan. “Just tell me when.”
As much as he might have wanted to run home to Marina, Ryan knew that he would be back, maybe many times. Because a cock like Clint’s wasn’t going to let him go.
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Bring me to the end...
Part 1
Paul wasn't sure he could keep his cock in his pants for the next three hours. After lacrosse practice, he'd taken a long shower, waiting for Ryan to show up in the locker room. Ryan always made a point of walking into the shower naked, giving Paul a long glance, and ignoring him for the next twenty minutes. Every couple days, he would nudge Paul as he walked over to get his towel.
"Hey," he'd say. "Five minutes. My room."
Five minutes later they'd be naked in bed, with Paul's lips wrapped around the root of Ryan's thick cock. Paul had never seen a cock like that, big as hell, one thick vein running down the center, muscled, blunt-headed, always hard as a rock. He let his mouth bob up and down the shaft and he could almost cum without touching himself, waiting for Ryan's hot load to hit the back of his throat.
Today, Ryan hadn't showed up. Paul was more than fed up. After a couple weeks of blow jobs, he couldn't stand the game they were playing. Ryan still claimed he was straight, and made a big point of dragging some girl along whenever he saw Paul in a bar.
"Give it a rest," Paul said to him one night. "Your fucking twenty-one. Get over yourself."
Ryan had looked shocked, and Paul wondered if he'd gone too far. But the next day he was snaking his arms up Ryan's bare back, kneading the muscles in his legs, tonguing his cock, and waiting for the explosion that would fill his mouth with Ryan's juice.
Today it was going to change.
In an hour he would be at the bar, and in another hour he was going to take Ryan home. He didn't know how he would do it, but it was happening tonight. And when he got Ryan back to his place, he was going to fuck the kid's brains out.
He changed into a tight pair of jeans that gripped his hard butt, and slipped into a t-shirt, the sleeves tight where his biceps were bursting from the gym. He had a great body and he knew how to show it off, but thinking of Ryan--muscled from the pool--he had his doubts. He pulled out his cock and looked at in the mirror, a little longer than Ryan's, eight inches if slender. It was already hard in his hand.
At the bar, he caught Ryan's eye across the room, just as Ryan reached for some big-breasted girl and pulled her into a tight kiss. Paul thought the night would never end. He pounded three drinks and finally found himself next to Ryan, just as the girl insisted on leaving with her friends.
"She always does this shit, man," said Ryan. "I got a case of blue balls that could kill."
"I could take care of that for you," said Paul. "But you don't have the guts to let me."
"Oh I have the guts," said Ryan. "Just not the inclination. I don't want to fuck with your self-esteem, buddy, but I'm not really into guys. Getting head is all fine, but tonight I want to fuck, and when I want to fuck, I want to fuck a tight pussy. Know what I mean?"
Paul looked around the bar, the room beginning to enter out. He felt a combination of disgust, anger, and hardcore lust. He started toward the coat room, turning to beckon Ryan with a nod of his head.
"Come here," he said.
"Where are we going?" asked Ryan.
"Get the fuck over here," said Paul.
The coat room was small and dark, and they were alone there. Paul threw Ryan against the wall next to the rack of hangers. He noticed that Ryan didn't resist much.
"Don't get any ideas," said Ryan. "I'm not into you."
"You need to shut the fuck up," said Paul.
He put his body against Ryan's and ground his crotch into the other man's. Ryan struggled a bit and Paul gripped his wrists, pinning Ryan's arms against the wall above his head. Ryan threw back his head and let out a small groan of pleasure and Paul kissed down the muscles of Ryan's neck. He could feel Ryan's thick cock beginning to get hard, the bulge in his pants growing. He kissed Ryan full on the mouth, feeling the raw heat of the other man's tongue, the fullness of his lips, tasting the beer on his breath.
Just then, the lights went out. He noticed that the bar was silent. There were only two coats left on the rack: theirs. Somewhere in the darkened bar, a door shut. Staff shouted goodbyes. They were alone.
"This fucking sucks," said Ryan. "What do we do now?"
"What do we do?" said Paul. "We take advantage of the circumstances."
He pulled Ryan out of the coat room and tugged off Ryan's shirt. Light came through the windows from the street, highlighting every muscle in Ryan's full chest, his nipples standing hard in the cool air. Ryan gazed at Paul, thrusting his jaw forward in defiance. He slipped a finger under the waistband of his boxers, showing above his jeans.
"You think you're pretty smart, don't you?" said Ryan. "Now that you've got me here, you think you can have whatever you want."
"Yeah," said Paul. "That's right."
Paul pulled off his own shirt and noticed Ryan give him a quick glance, his eyes flashing with interest. He flexed one forearm in the light, admiring the way the muscles twitched. One more look, and he was on Ryan with the heat of a summer storm. This time, Ryan didn't fight it. He thought Ryan might devour him before they could even get their clothes off. He pealed off his jeans, kicking them away from his ankles, and felt Ryan's hands clasp first his ass then his growing cock, gathered against his full balls in the pouch of his square-cut boxer briefs.
Ryan dropped his pants and Paul tugged off Ryan's boxers, lifting him onto a table. Ryan pulled Paul in for another deep kiss, his legs wrapped around Paul's thighs. Paul threw Ryan down on his back on the tabletop and slid out of his briefs. His cock stood bare in the light from the street. Tonight he wasn't going to suck Ryan's cock. Ryan was going to ride his.
"What do you want to do with that?" said Ryan.
"That's a stupid question," said Paul, spreading Ryan's firm butt cheeks.
Paul spit in his hand and massaged his wet fingers into Ryan's ass.
"Hey," said Ryan. "Wait. I've never--"
He couldn't finish speaking. Already Paul's fingers were deep inside him, massaging the firm ball of his g-spot, inching further into his hot body. He laid his head back on the tabletop, tilting his chin upward, closing his eyes in pleasure. Every muscle in his gorgeous body stood tense and waiting. Paul worked his fingers deeper, massaging his own hard cock with his other hand. He was opening Ryan's ass to get it ready.
"You like that?" he asked.
"Yeah." Ryan was gasping, starting to stroke his cock. "Yeah. Give me more."
Paul needed no further invitation. He reached down into his jeans, piled on the floor, and pulled a condom out of his pocket. When he'd left home, he'd slipped it in beside his wallet, wondering if he was jinxing his chances. Now he smiled as he unrolled the slick latex down the length of his long, throbbing cock. His head was already wet, pre-cum streaming from his slit. He couldn't wait to feel Ryan's tight ass grip his shaft, to hear the noise Ryan would make as he was entered for the first time. He was going to give Ryan the ride of his life.
He started slow, pressing his cock head against the tight opening of Ryan's ass. He could feel Ryan seize up, excited but still stiff and closed. He worked with a steady pressure, pressing his wet cock into Ryan's asshole, and gradually he felt Ryan give way. He was slow and careful, riding into Ryan's ass inch by inch, waiting for Ryan to beg for more before he gave it to him with another slow thrust. Finally, he was buried up to the base of his cock in that tight virgin ass. Ryan's torso shone in the dim light, laid out in front of him like a Greek God, some lost adonis stretched out for the world to see. He pulled his cock partway out of Ryan's ass and slammed it back in, and Ryan moaned. He pulled out again, and again, ramming the whole length of his cock into that wet hot ass, feeling it grip down around his balls every time he slid inside. He fucked Ryan deep. Paul could feel Ryan's ass grip the head of his dick deep inside, with a warm firm pressure. Ryan arched his back on the table, his thick cock standing out above his washboard stomach. He stroked his dick and showered his chest with flecks of pre-cum.
With another moan, Ryan sat up, Paul's dick still inside him, and wrapped his arms around Paul's neck. Paul put his hands around Ryan's legs to hold him up, supporting his weight. Paul could almost see himself, in his mind, standing naked in the middle of his favorite bar, this muscled co-athlete wrapped around him, fucking like a machine. With every thrust he bounced Ryan off his thighs and Ryan whined and shuddered, begging for more. Ryan's lips were at his throat, his shoulders, his hot breath in Paul's ear, begging to be fucked, dominated, penetrated deeper and deeper. He couldn't believe it was actually happening, and he wasn't going to let the opportunity go to waste. He pulled all the way out and bent Ryan over the table, ready to take him from behind. Before Ryan could say another word, Paul stuck his cock in Ryan's ass all the way, so that his balls rested just behind Ryan's. He pounded Ryan fast and hard, slapping his thighs against Ryan's taught rounded butt. He put his hands on the muscled pad of Ryan's back, threw his head back and hammered Ryan as hard as he could, Ryan stretching out his hands to grip the table.
It was as if he couldn’t control his motions. Ryan drove him wild and it was all he could do not to tear Ryan apart. Another moment, and Paul was on his back on the table as Ryan climbed over him. Ryan stood on the tabletop, straddling Paul's prone form, jerking his dick off above Paul's face. A drop of his cum fell to Paul's lips and Paul tasted the hot salty liquid, ecstatic. He ran his hands up to Ryan's thighs and pulled the man down to sit on his cock. Ryan rode Paul like a horse, Paul's dick moving inside him deeper and deeper. They moved like one animal, moaning and cursing, their cries sounding off the walls of the room. Ryan's pecs and shoulders shone with sweat, and he wrapped both hands around the trunk of his cock while Paul tossed him with his thrusts.
"Oh God," moaned Ryan. "Oh God. You're so deep. Oh God. I'm going to--"
With a jerk and a cry, he began to cum. Paul hadn't sucked him off for a week, and apparently neither had anyone else. Ryan showered Paul's chest and face with cum, shooting farther with each stroke. He arched his back and let Paul have the fountain of his cum. His asshole spasmed around Paul's throbbing cock and Paul couldn't hold back any longer. He exploded in Ryan's ass, his heavy load filling the condom and running down his dick to soak his balls. He felt as if he came for an eternity, ramming his dick up into Ryan's ass, watching Ryan jerk and shoot all over him. Finally, spent, Ryan collapsed beside him on the tabletop, Paul covered in cum.
"So that's that," said Paul. "Fuck you and your stupid blowjobs, by the way. If you want to play after the shower, we're going to play by my rules."
Ryan reached down to hold his cock, still hard.
"Just tell me how soon," he said.
Part 2
Ryan woke up sore the next day. He looked around his dorm room and tried to remember the previous evening, and suddenly it all came rushing back. The bar, Marina leaving with her friends, Paul dragging him into the coat room, being left alone, and finally, that hour of fucking on a table in the middle of the room. It was the first time his ass had been entered, and he had loved every second.
He would never admit how much he loved it, though. If Paul wanted to spend his life fucking around with guys, that was one thing. Ryan might not mind a blow job now and then, but he was going to get his dick in Marina as soon as he possibly could.
It was Saturday, and he took a long shower, running his hands over his cock and balls, thinking of the way Marina's breasts bounced when they fucked, imagining her there with him. In his mind, he soaped her firm, full body with his big hands, and pressed her to his muscled body. He imagined her legs around his waist, her tight box inching down his hard cock. He looked down. His cock wasn't hard. Shit, he thought, this is how it happens. One night with that bastard and I've lost it. He tried beating his dick into submission, some hard yanks, his soapy fingers around his cockhead. The thick little monster wasn't moving.
Over a plate of eggs and bacon, he thought of nothing but Paul. He thought of the sweat that had coated Paul's chest, his muscles thrown into sharp relief by the light through the window. He thought of the way Paul's cock slid all the way out of his ass, teasing his sphincter, and plunged back in again, deeper every time, battering his prostate as he begged for release.
"What's with you, Ryan?" asked one of his teammates. "Our one day without practice and you don't even look happy about it."
"Lay off him," said another. "He's just tired from last night. Marina probably tired him out, right? He's the only one of you that got any looks."
"What kind of fag are you?" said someone else. "You checking out Ryan?"
"Aw shut up."
Ryan heard it all but didn't respond. He was trying to get his mind off Paul. One more time, he thought. I need it one more time, just to see. Just to see if it was as good as I thought it was. One more time, and then I'll never go back.
But he couldn't go to Paul. If he went to Paul to ask for a fuck, that was a victory for Paul. Paul had waited all semester for just such an invitation, for some sign that Ryan needed the contact, that Ryan wanted him as much as Paul wanted Ryan. Ryan couldn't give him that satisfaction. Besides, Paul wasn't a bad looking guy, but he was curious to see what was out there. If Paul fucked one way... did someone else fuck another way?
"Frankie," he called down the table to a friend. "You think I could borrow your car?"
"What for?"
"Oh nothing," said Ryan. "Marina wants to do some shopping in the city. That's all."
Frankie slid the keys down the tabletop.
Half an hour later, Ryan was tearing down the highway toward New York. Needless to say, Marina wasn't with him. He changed lanes to pass some slow cars, wondering if he'd get pulled over. He could just picture some burly state trooper asking him to step out of the car and into the woods for an hour, some guy with a huge belt buckle riding just above the bulge in his pants. Ryan was already hard and the thought made him pre-cum, a spot of wetness in his boxers.
He was headed for the only place he knew he could find sex in the day time, a hole full of hustlers. Growing up in Westchester, he'd spent plenty of time in the city. He remembered taking the train down with friends to buy weed, or bargain for fake IDs. On one of these trips, a friend had pointed out one particular bar, a hole in the wall open twenty-four-hours.
"That place is full of prostitutes," he had whispered to Ryan. "Guys who suck dick."
Ryan remembered it because his friend had told him a story: the story of how he saw their math teacher come out of the hole one morning, blinking in the sunlight, clothes a mess. Ryan imagined the night that old Mr. Logan must have had. He would have remembered the place anyway, without any additional tales. He was beginning to realize that he had a wealth of gay knowledge, things he had listened to without meaning to, things he remembered.
The place didn't have a name, and didn't display an address. If you were there, it was because someone had showed you the way. Ryan found a parking spot nearby on the street and thanked his luck. He arranged his cock in his pants and got out, locked the car, and headed for the entrance.
A set of stairs, a dingy hallway, and a thick-armed man opened a door for him.
"How's it going, son?" he said. "You here to buy or sell?"
Ryan hadn't considered the possibility of selling. He could have sex and get paid for it? What could be better? Of course, selling might limit his choices, but he didn't care. He was going to throw himself on the mercy of whoever came first. If it was someone he didn’t like, well, he'd like to see them try and fuck him then.
A couple other guys his age sat around at the bar, none muscled like he was. Over the next hour, some older guys crept in, nodded to someone, and went off into the back. Ryan couldn’t believe he wasn’t chosen, but then again, maybe he was intimidating. A little to good-looking, a little too new. Then someone else came to the door.
Burly, thick armed, a thick forest of hair spread across his massive chest, the man wore an old pair of jeans and a wifebeater. A thin layer of stubble spread across is chiseled jaw and thick, dark, sharp tattoos snaked down his arms. The manager stood in the door behind him, pointing to Ryan.
“That’s the new one,” he said.
The man nodded and the manager left. Ryan and the man stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. The man cracked the knuckles of one hand, and finally strode across the room to Ryan.
“I’m Clint,” he said.
“Ryan.”
“How much to fuck you?” said Clint.
“You don’t look like the kind of guy who has to pay for sex.”
“I don’t have to,” said Clint. “I like to. Roger calls me when he has something new. I break it in.”
“Break it in?” said Ryan.
“How much?” Clint asked again.
“I don’t—what do you think is reasonable?”
“I can tell you’re new,” said Clint. “Tell you what. I’m good for the money. We’ll fuck first; I’ll pay later.”
“That wouldn’t be very businesslike,” said Ryan with a smile.
“Hell,” said Clint. “You’d do it for free.”
Clint pulled Ryan off his barstool and led him to a back room.
“I should let you know,” he said. “I like to play rough.”
Ryan’s heart was in his throat, but he had no urge to pull away. Clint pushed him in the door, his thick hands on Ryan’s shoulders. The room was small, spare, and they were alone. A low bed sat in the corner with a single sheet. Mounted in the middle of the ceiling was a cast iron ring.
Ryan turned to Clint and Clint was on him in a second. Clint kissed him hard, driving his tongue into Ryan’s mouth. Clint tasted like coffee, and his mouth was warm. He kissed along Ryan’s jaw to his ear and bit his earlobe, harder than Ryan expected. Ryan let out a yelp, but didn’t have long to be embarrassed. Clint laughed and tugged his wifebeater over his head. Then he whipped out his cock.
Ryan had thought Paul was big, but Paul was nothing compared to the tree trunk lying in Clint’s hand. Clint’s dick must have been a good nine or ten inches long and as thick as a dick could be. It was already hard, the huge mushroom head swelling as Clint massaged it gently in his palm. Veins stood out on the shaft. Ryan’s mouth watered.
“You going to get naked?” asked Clint. “Do I need to convince you?”
“No problem,” said Ryan, trying to sound cool.
“No problem what?” said Clint.
Ryan couldn’t believe this was actually happening. This tattooed dominating woodsman type was something straight out of porn.
“No problem, sir,” he said in compliance.
“Suck my dick,” said Clint.
Clint put one hand on the back of Ryan’s head and brought Ryan to his knees. Another second and that huge cock was in Ryan’s mouth, pounding the back of his throat. A burst of precum slid across his tongue and he moaned.
“Yeah,” said Clint. “Make some noise, boy.”
Ryan couldn’t help himself. He kept moaning. He put one hand on Clint’s shaft and the other on his balls. Clint let his head fall back and sighed.
“Yeah, boy. Just like that.”
Ryan bobbed his head, letting Clint’s long shaft slide in and out of his mouth. He couldn’t get nearly all of it inside and he was starting to get worried about how it would ever fit in his ass. If it doesn’t work, he thought, I’ll just stop, and he won’t give me the money. I don’t care about the money anyway. But in the back of his mind, Ryan knew that if Clint wanted to fuck him, Clint would fuck him. He hadn’t bargained for a man as big as Clint, but now that he was in Clint’s hands, Clint owned him.
“Stand up,” Clint ordered.
Ryan stood.
“Take off your shirt,” said Clint.
Ryan did, and Clint whistled when he saw Ryan’s naked torso, and flicked one of Ryan’s nipples with a finger.
“Arms up,” said Clint. “There.”
Ryan put his arms above his head and Clint pulled out a length of thin, smooth rope. Ryan gulped. Clint put Ryan’s hands to the ring in the ceiling. The ring was low enough for Ryan to grab it without reaching, but just high enough to keep his body completely stretched out, ready for anything Clint would give him. Clint cinched the rope around Ryan’s hands, tying it tight.
“Don’t want you go get away,” said Clint, and smiled.
Ryan wouldn’t be able to get away, that was for sure. Clint kissed him again, hard on the mouth, then kissed down his body, around his nipples, down the center of his stomach to his belt. Clint undid Ryan’s belt buckle and let his pants fall to the floor. Then he tugged off Ryan’s boxers.
They were both naked. Ryan tied to the ceiling. Clint kneeling in front of him.
Clint spit in his hand and massaged Ryan’s cock until it stood hard as a rock. He moved behind Ryan and spread his ass cheeks.
“Let me have this ass,” he said. “Arch your back a little… there you go.”
Ryan bit his lip, worried, but then he felt Clint’s warm wet tongue curling around his hole. Clint spread Ryan’s cheeks farther apart, exposing his asshole, and worked his tongue deeper inside. He reached one hand around to massage Ryan’s cock at the same time. Ryan’s anxiety started to melt away. He leaned into Clint’s tongue, presenting his ass for Clint to explore. He relaxed, letting his weight hang off the ring in the ceiling, riding the tongue and the firm hand on his cock.
Clint pulled a bottle of lube from a cabinet in the corner. “Wish they had condoms my size,” he said. “Those I have to bring myself.”
Clint wet his fingers with the lube and worked them into Ryan’s ass, stretching open his hole. After the rim job, Ryan’s ass felt hungry and hot.
“Put them deeper,” he said.
“Okay, boy,” said Clint. “Getting eager?”
“Put your cock in me,” said Ryan, “sir.”
Turning his head over his shoulder, Ryan watched Clint roll an extra-large condom down his shaft. He worked his dick in his hand for a second, then took his position behind Ryan and entered him with one swift, searing movement.
Ryan hollered like he’d been stabbed.
“Yeah,” said Clint. “That’s the way I do it. Give me some noise.”
“Oh God,” said Ryan. “Pull out. God, it’s too much.”
“Just hold it inside you, boy,” said Clint. “I didn’t bust nothing. Just hold it inside you and ride it.”
Ryan did what he was told, forcing his ass to relax around Clint’s cock. He could feel the blood throbbing in those thick veins, and Clint started to ride him in slow thrusts. With every movement, Ryan felt as if his ass might break, but he liked the feeling, the danger of riding that monster cock. And in a few moments, the pain had decreased, and then vanished.
“Yes,” he said softly. “Do it now.”
Clint needed no instruction. He beat his dick into Ryan with heat and fury. He put his hard hands on Ryan’s taut, smooth body and worked his dick into Ryan’s ass farther than Ryan had ever felt possible. It was as if Clint filled Ryan’s body with an energy that sizzled from his ass to his fingertips and toes. He shook with every thrust, powerless to control the brutal force of Clint’s cock. He arched his back and let out animal noises, letting his ass be plundered by the man behind him.
Clint reached down past Ryan’s balls and put one hand under each of his thighs, lifting Ryan almost off his feet, hugging their bodies tightly together. Ryan couldn’t bear it anymore, and without even touching his dick he let loose a torrent of cum that arched in a three-foot spurt and landed just short of the wall. At the same time, he felt Clint release a hot load in his ass, jet after jet of cum swelling the condom. Clint left his arms around Ryan for a minute, panting into his neck. Then he bit Ryan’s shoulder lightly and pulled out with another swift moment.
“Not bad,” he said as he reached up to undo the rope that held Ryan’s hands. “I could teach you a few things, but it wasn’t bad for starters.”
“Thanks,” said Ryan. It was all he could think of to say.
“I don’t have enough cash on me,” said Clint. “I have to write you a check. Next time maybe we do it at my place, save time. Besides, I don’t want you selling to anyone else.”
“Sure,” said Ryan. “Just tell me when.”
As much as he might have wanted to run home to Marina, Ryan knew that he would be back, maybe many times. Because a cock like Clint’s wasn’t going to let him go.
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