Reply-To: an179397@anon.penet.fi
WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS A SEXUALLY EXPLICIT FICTIONAL STORY. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, OR IF YOU ARE NOT INTERESTED IN READING ABOUT SEXUALLY EXPLICIT SITUATIONS AND ACTIVITIES..
To the alt.sex.stories reader:
This is the second in a series of stories dealing mainly with male to male sexuality, though the series will contain some male/female sex and the thoughts, fantasies and activities of bisexual characters as well.
Friday 13" #2 : Smooth Operation
By Stroker Al
Brad Carson was hands down the hairiest fucker among the entire staff of Camp Christopher. He had a fairly ordinary build, but his ever-bronze skin was well-toned and as taught as a painter's stretched canvas -- the ideal surface to display the hirsute artistry of the dense black fur that covered his chest, belly and thighs and forearms in graceful, swirling Van Gogh patterns.
Each week dozens of campers developed obvious boyhood crushes on him. After one look at him directing canoe paddling practice at the beach in nothing but his red Speedos, or hiking with his t-shirt tied around his waist, he became their ideal embodiment of manhood simply by virtue of his hairiness, like some kind of local Tom Sellack, and they'd respond in all kinds of ways, from just following him around like devoted, love-starved little brothers and hanging on his every word and movement, to even sending him gushy little notes and letters long after they'd returned home from their weeks at camp.
Though flattered as Brad was by such attention from adolescents in their ambiguous early stages of sexual development, he took a much greater interest in the equally rapt attentions of his fellow staff members, who were considerably more physically and emotionally developed, and thus, not only knew damned well what they desired in him but were also fully equipped to do something about it.
By halfway through July he'd drawn more men into bed with him than any other counselor, including those with handsomer faces and more perfectly sculpted bodies. And lots of the guys he boffed were even straight dudes who'd first needed a half dozen beers to loosen up into the horny tomcats they were at heart and indulge their savage drives to rub dicks with the furry beast while using the coarse mat on his chest as a scratching post. Plus, Brad had also hosed one of the three women on staff, while another, the camp director's wife, was starting to show him increasing interest.
Brad loved how everybody had their own way of playing in his hair, some open in their fascination with it and others doing their best to hide it. His queer buddies usually ended up jizzin all over it and licking it clean with their tongues, which he loved. He'd push their faces deep into the cleft between his pecs as they hungrily licked up their jock messes. The babe, who worked as an assistant cook, merely fluffed curls of his chest hair with two of her slender red polished fingernails as she lay against him in his bunk after screwing. The straight boys, most of whom happened to be relatively smooth, usually got off on the totality of his bristly maleness and would grind their whole bodies against his, as if they were buffing their own muscles and using Brad like a human brush, or as if they were somehow trying to chafe it all off of him and transfer it to themselves. Exhausting as this sometimes was, he seemed to like doing those dudes the best.
But not everyone in the world, it turned out, was enslaved by this incredibly common but unimaginative obsession with this most obvious of male secondary sex characteristics. Brad noticed that there were a few attractive and available men on staff who seemed totally indifferent to him physically. At first he assumed that they were just super-straight men, but that didn't explain why he couldn't even detect any envy in their eyes, which in his experience was often more prevalent among other men than attraction towards him. The shocking truth only occurred to him one morning in July when one of these inscrutable men, his cabinmate, Jerome, happened to walk in on Brad coming out of a stall in the shower room naked and dripping wet.
"Jeez, you're hairier than an ape! " Jerome cried as he stared for a moment at the fluid waves of black that were wetly plastered all over Brad's limbs chest and abdomen.
"Yes, I guess I am hairier than you, aren't I?" Brad retorted, less in response to Jerome's words than to what sounded like genuine disgust in the guy's tone.
"No question about that," Jerome smirked, though in a less disdainful and more humorous manner. "I guess not all members of a species evolve at the same rate."
Brad bellowed with laughter as he toweled off. "Fuck you, you hairless wonder. Don't talk Darwin to me when it's obvious that you're just jealous."
Jerome finished pulling his t-shirt over his head and off before shaking his head and smiling. "I'm afraid not, Papa Bear. Why the hell would I want any more body hair than I already have? It's a pain in the ass as it is."
"What hair? You don't even have any!" sneered Brad in gleeful exaggeration. Jerome in fact had the light scatterings of fine hair here and there in amounts that were quite average for men in their early twenties.
Jerome ignored the comment, revealing no apparent insecurity about his own body hair. "What use does it have other than aesthetic?" he asked instead. "I bet it even gets in your way sometimes."
"Girls love it," Brad said, and then fixed Jerome with a stare. "Some guys love it, too," he whispered, leering menacingly.
"Yeah, well some guys prefer their men smooth," Jerome shot back, his lips curling in a taunt that even as it cleared up for Brad the mystery of Jerome's sexual leanings, made it just as clear that Brad had no chance of ever getting him into bed.
"Yeah sure. Well, everybody's gotta work with what they've got," Brad muttered, secretly rather downtrodden by Jerome's remarks. He wasn't used to being rejected, even if only by implication.
He watched absently under his towel as Jerome shrugged and continued to undress for his shower. Brad was unaware that his promiscuity and pride were even then conspiring to create a new obsession in the rather appealing yet inaccessible male form that was now stripping buck naked in front of him. Jerome had a meaty, swinging dick that hung low over a set of ample pink balls, surrounded by a wreath of curly light brown bush hair. His thighs were thick and strong looking, while his calves were light and graceful. His chest was filled out and firm, and he had strong looking arms. In total, he was very hot to look at -- a fact that Brad was only now fully realizing after having spent his energy elsewhere while sharing a cabin for two weeks with a guy who under his very nose had been among the hottest in the camp all along. Of course they were sharing the space with four other guys, most of whom were quite distractingly good looking themselves, but now, as he watched the naked stud saunter off to the showers Brad couldn't fathom how Jerome could have escaped his full attention for so long. His tight little rounded ass looked especially fine as he whistled his way into the shower room.
Brad dressed and listened to Jerome showering and whistling , and he imagined how those tight, smooth ass cheeks would feel gripped in his hands -- or gripping his dick! Jerome was still showering and whistling when Brad left, the image of his cabinmate's buns burning in his brain. The wooden door creaked behind him and shut.
Inside, at the opposite end of the shower room was a row of toilet stalls, one of which had been occupied throughout the guys' conversation, though neither had noticed. If they'd looked, they could have seen a pair of black tennis shoes under a pair of worn blue jeans pulled down and bunched around two sturdy ankles and calves. If Jerome had not been whistling and running the shower water, the slappy sound of a big fat hard dick being stroked inside the stall could have been heard.
The guy jacking off inside began breathing harder and harder and jerking away until he gasped and squirted jets of hot spermy semen out of his erect dick and splattered the dirty pictures and obscenities carved into the wooden walls, now wet with the creamy cum of a Camp Christopher legend. But it wasn't the graffiti that made this horny prick toss his rank, crawly wad. It was an idea he'd suddenly come up with while thinking about those dirty minded queer boys who'd let a little thing like hairiness prevent them from hosing each other down the way they were born to do. He'd thought of a way to bring their bare hides together and get them to make the beast with two backs all night, and maybe every night for the rest of the summer, if all went well.
Brad was showering again the next day at about the same time, in the subconscious hope that Jerome would follow a similar routine. They'd made small talk last night in the cabin, which assured Brad that there was no real anger or disdain coming from Jerome toward him, but it was clear that the dude remained unimpressed with the prospect of balling with a twenty-two year old "daddy" type. So the suddenly self-conscious Brad had hopped into bed wearing a t-shirt and shorts for the first time that summer instead of doing his usual naked strut from the clothes basket to his bunk. He had licked his lips and sighed while watching Jerome reach up to pull the cord to extinguish the light, stretching his impressive frame, wearing only his handsomely stuffed blue bikini briefs, packed as they were with that fine set of dick and balls that had sadly been decreed off limits to hairy dudes.
As Brad soaped his chest and his chubby up with lather and dreamed about Jerome, he suddenly recognized the same whistling he'd heard yesterday. Ah, he was going to get another chance to see the hunk in the raw, and this time with water streaming across the fine smooth curves of his muscles. And this time Brad would be in there with him, exposed in his horny hairiness and now with a major woody that would let this dude know how badly he was wanted by him. Unwilling to bear certain rejection, Brad sighed and resolved to face away from Jerome and merely try to sneak a good look at him at some point and hopefully be content with that.
He continued to soap himself as the whistling grew louder and entered the communal shower stall. He closed his eyes and shoved both hands down into his soapy crotch to keep his stiff dick from poking up into the air and exposing him to ridicule. To his surprise, Jerome's whistle seemed to be coming nearer and nearer to him. For a moment the wild notion came to him that Jerome had been lying all along and was secretly attracted to him. But the dude had definitely not been faking, he remembered. So what was this all about, he wondered as the whistle sounded directly behind him, only inches from the back of his neck. Brad fought all of his instincts to turn around and confront Jerome, and kept facing the corner, dripping with hot shower water and soapy lather.
Suddenly the whistle stopped and two powerful arms gripped his biceps from behind, making him gasp. A strange voice that was definitely not Jerome's spoke.
"Don't move, fucker, or y r dead."
Brad's eyes flashed open but the iron grip of the man behind him, which prevented him from raising his arms, induced him to keep looking straight ahead. As he stood there stiffly, he felt the large naked frame of the man behind him press against him, a hard chest, a big, soft dick and big balls against his ass. Then, when he saw the shiny metal object out of the corner of his eye, being held up in one of the man's hands, he thought the worst--that he was gonna get fucked up the ass there in the shower by this thug, and he wasn't even in prison, and he hadn't even dropped the soap! And then the opened, sharp-looking razor appeared in front of him, at the level of his neck.
"No. No, damn it, Don't you even think about it," he hissed. "You'll never get away with this, you fuckin' pig, if you think you're gonna fuck me and live..."
"Who said anything about fucking? I'll leave that to you boys," the voice answered. I'm here to give you a shave, partner. Now hold as still as you can or you'll get cut to ribbons!"
"A shave? I already shaved this morning, you fucking lunatic! Let me go!"
"I think you missed a few spots, Brad," said the voice. "Some very big patches, actually. Like right here !" And then, as Brad attempted a strangled cry of terror, the man brought the razor down firmly just under Brad's neck and scraped the blade downward from Brad's clavicle, down his right pec, down stomach and abdominal muscles, coming to rest finally just at the top of his bush, over the root of his dick. "You see what I mean, Brad? Look at all this hair!"
The hand raised the blade back up in front of Brad's face and he watched as large soapy clumps of black hair fell off the edge of the blade and splatted audibly onto the shower floor, before being whisked apart by shower spray and swept toward the drain.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he cried. "Who are you? And how do you know my name?"
"Never mind, fucker, just hold still." The blade scraped down Brad's frontside again, this time on his left. He looked down to see huge swathes cut through his forested chest and stomach, exposing surfaces of skin that hadn't been fully bare since 7th grade. He looked like a lawn that had been mowed by a drunken neighbor boy.
"My chest! My chest! " he wailed. "You moron, you're making it look ridiculous! It'll take months to grow that back! Why are you doing this, you pervert! Did Jerome send you?"
The man laughed. "Nobody sends me, pal. I call the shots around here. I ain't saying the guy won't like what he sees, but the truth is he don't know nothing about me. Now raise both your arms. Up high."
Brad did as he was told and watched helplessly as the man proceeded to make a number of smaller, shorter sweeps of the blade down and around the contours of his nervously heaving chest and stomach. He felt like crying to see his beautiful black hair, his pride and symbol of his manhood, falling away from his body in streams of soapy water. He held his breath as the razor deftly circled his nipples, one after the other, stripping them of their bushy camouflage leaving them a naked, tender pink that struck Brad as shockingly feminine.
Then he felt a movement between his legs and looked down to see what appeared to be a second penis emerging between them underneath his balls. Obviously it belonged to the man, but even having come from between Brad's legs it protruded a good 6 or 7 inches -- as long as Brad's entire hose!
"Hey, I thought you said you weren't gonna..."
The man laughed. "Sorry, pal. Don't mind my dick. I'm really gettin' into this, though, you know? I didn't realize shaving a guy's hair off was gonna turn me on like this. You oughta try it sometime, bud."
"No thanks," grumbled Brad.
"It don't do nothing for ya? Funny, I don't notice you going limp or anything. "
Brad didn't say anything. He was feeling so humiliated by the idea of the shaving that he couldn't deal with any possible pleasant physical sensations that might have been accompanying the loss of his hair.
It was true that he was harder than ever, but he was also quite upset. He hadn't realized the extent to which he'd pegged his concept of masculinity and his sexual appeal onto his hairiness.
He looked down at the man's dick head, bobbing up and down just beneath his own, and saw that it had the number 13 tattooed on it. It reminded him of some bullshit story he'd heard once around a campfire, but he dismissed the thought as soon as it had come. Suddenly the razor was withdrawn and Brad felt the man's dick just as suddenly pull back out from between his legs.
"Okay Brad, spread yer legs apart and bend over. Grab onto yer ankles and hold yourself in that position 'til I finish."
"No way, man," Brad hissed. "Why should I?"
"Look, pal. Yer gonna hafta bend over for me for one purpose or another before I let you outta here, but the choice is still yours. You wanna get shaved or fucked?"
"Neither, damn it!" Brad grumbled. Then, in resignation, he slowly slid his legs apart and bent forward to seize both of his ankles.
"Good man." said the guy. Brad watched him crouch down behind him and run the razor carefully down the insides and outsides of his thighs and calves, denuding them as completely as if he had been grooming Brad for a professional bike race. He also removed a thick patch of hair from the small of his back, just above his ass. Throughout this process the man had frequently soaped up Brad's skin to insure a smooth, cut-free shave. Despite himself, Brad enjoyed the feel of the man's soapy fingers on his skin, and he felt his dick throb each time.
Soon the only hair that remained on Brad's body below the neck was his bush, the hair on his ass and the hair on his balls. The man had even done his armpits and forearms.
"Now hold extra still, Brad," he cautioned as he slipped the cool steel razor between Brad's ass cheeks. Brad's asshole pucker spasmed nervously, but after only a couple tingling scrapes of the razor, the crack of his ass was as smooth as on the day he was born. Seconds later the entire surface of his white ass was as bald as Yul Brynner's head. "Okay, now stand up and lemme look at ya."
Brad stood up, his face still red from the blood that had rushed to it while bending over. He faced the man with the 13" dick and they took good long looks at one another.
"Not bad. Not bad at all. Looks like I got pretty much everything," the man said, stroking his own dick with one hand and holding the razor down at his side with the other. "Though you might have to touch up a few spots yourself."
Not bad was what Brad was thinking, too, but not about his own appearance (he wasn't ready to deal with that yet). He was admiring the good looks (if a little ragged) of the mysterious older stud in front of him, who, if he hadn't made him so angry, he would have thoroughly enjoyed hosing.
Brad felt the completely smooth surfaces of his freshly shaved skin with his fingertips for the first time. He guessed that he looked bizarre. "Well aren't you just fucking generous, you pervert!" he hissed.
"That's me, buddy boy. And believe me, I done worse than this here before," the man grinned, still leisurely pumping his stiff salami.
"What else did you do, big man, rape some poor schmuck after threatening him with your fuckin razor blade ? Well you can fuck yourself, asshole!" Brad cried.
The man laughed. "How'd you know I can fuck myself? Have you been spyin' on me, ya little devil? Well, ya shouldn't blame me, ya know, 'cause it gets kind lonely up here in the winter, and ya find yourself doing all kinds of crazy things to get off. "
Brad blinked and seethed in anger, but said nothing.
"Naw, seriously, buddy, I was bluffin' about screwin' ya," the man went on. "I wouldn't a said nuthin if ya hadn't brought it up first. I never fuck nobody unless they really want it. And even then, they gotta beg me to do it," he said, shaking his enormous cock at Brad, " 'cause this here's a more dangerous weapon than any razor."
Then he grinned again, as if struck by a fresh idea, and, to Brad's astonishment, handed the razor to him. "Now let's see what kinda man you are when the razor's in your hand," he said.
Brad stared at the razor with his jaw open, then looked back at the man, who stretched his arms above his head and shifted his weight onto one leg to imitate the languid, contraposto pose of a Greek statue. "You're fucking crazy," Brad murmured.
"Yessir, ah am. And how 'bout you, are you a little crazy, too? Or a lot?" he taunted mildly, his eyes twinkling. "Whatcha gonna do with that thing, slice mah tits off? Slide the blade up mah ass? Slash my throat? Castrate me? Chop mah big weenie down ta size?"
Brad stepped over to the man, gripping the razor. He looked his hunky form over from head to toe, completely undecided about what to do. The guy was hairy, but not nearly as much as Brad had been. Shaving him wouldn't give him the satisfaction of payback that he craved.
Then his eyes settled on the man's bush--thick, dark and wiry, framing the wrist-thick root of his jutting dick. He reached back to the shower caddy that he'd been using and grabbed his bar of soap and tossed it to the man, who caught it in one hand.
"Lather up your bush," Brad ordered.
The man nodded, stepping into the flow of the shower to wet himself. "Sounds like mah pubes are history, huh?" he said, lathering his crotch.
Brad nodded. "I'm gonna pussify you, fucker!"
The man laughed and stepped out from under the water and approached Brad, putting his hands back up over his head and bracing his legs slightly apart. His big rod bobbed up and down when he stopped in position. Brad cautiously knelt on one knee and gently pushed the huge dick forward and held it out of the way before placing the razor against the man's soapy bush. Then he scraped the blade slowly downward and watched the thick brown tufts of hair separate from the man's skin. After only five or six passes of the blade, the man's bush was totally gone.
"Huh. Now my rat's bald," he chuckled. "Well that's a new one for me, Brad You're mighty handy with that razor. Gonna be a barber some day?"
Brad stared at the sculpted, smooth flesh below the man's navel that he'd just completely exposed to the air. Shorn of pubic hair but with the rest of his body intact, the man looked freakish, like some 6th grader on steroids. With a few flicks of the blade, Brad had made a full adult stud resemble a prepubescent kid -- however enormously hung a kid he was.
Brad relished the thrilling feeling of the control he had exercised. It made his dick stiffen, and prompted him to grip the man's dick in response, feeling its girth for the first time. "A barber -- that's a good idea," he said, rising to his feet. "And you're my first customer. You've had your shave, and now it's time for your haircut."
With a sparkle in his eyes the man began rubbing Brad's shoulder and flexing his dick, which Brad continued to stroke with his fist. "A little off the top, eh, partner? Guess I'm 'bout due for a trim."
Brad reached up and grabbed a handful of the man's tangled mop of black hair. "I'm gonna give you more than a trim, Zeke. It's all coming off. Just like your bush, pal. Every strand. Now kneel down ."
The hunk hesitated. looking Brad in the eye to make sure he was serious. "You really gonna make me bald? With that?" he laughed.
Brad nodded. "On your knees. Now."
The man laughed again, a bit nervously. "Aw, what the hell, this oughta be wild, " he finally said, dropping to his knees on the concrete floor in front of Brad and tilting his head forward.
Brad yanked the man's head back by a thick lock of hair, as if he were a savage preparing to scalp a captive. Then he hacked off the lock with a sweep of the razor. The man blinked and gazed up at Brad with intensified lust. "You can be a rough son of a bitch, can't you?"
Brad continued hacking away at the man's mane, reducing it to a soapy carpet of short nappy brown clumps. As Brad cut away his hair, the man ran his strong hands up and down Brad's newly smooth legs and played with his balls and dick. Brad thrilled at the sensation and had to stop him a number of times.
"You'd better knock that off or I'm going to nick your skull," he warned. Then he grabbed a bottle of shampoo and lathered the ragged remains of the man's head hair into a foamy helmet. Then he ordered the man to bend his head forward and began to shave his scalp clean with the razor. Frequently he had to clear away cuttings by dashing handfuls of water from the shower over the man's head, causing his victim to splutter and gasp as the soapy water and hair washed down over his face, and into his eyes and mouth.
Fifteen minutes later Brad was finished. Disengaging himself from the man's roving hands, he stood back, smiling triumphantly to look at his work. "Now the rat's really bald, " he grinned. The man knelt there looking up at Brad like a sheep that had just been shorn, his head now as hairless as his crotch. "How bad do I look?" he asked.
Brad answered truthfully, "Not bad at all. Kinda hot, really. Better than before, in any case." He went over to his dopp kit and withdrew a hand mirror. "Look for yourself"
The man looked doubtfully in the mirror, saying "Huh," over and over as he turned it to get a glimpse from every angle. brad came back to him and began to rub the skin of his head and crotch where he had shaved the man. The man put down the mirror and turned to Brad in a soapy embrace.
They began jacking each other freely and energetically. The man bent his head down to kiss and lick the newly smooth surface of Brad's chest and tits, causing Brad to feel sensations unlike anything he'd ever felt before. All that hair had dulled the sensitivity of his skin, it seemed. His nipples got hard instantly with the touch of the bald man's hot tongue.
Then Brad pushed him back down to his knees and started to massage his naked scalp with his dick and balls. The man licked at his still-hairy nuts while Brad pushed his dick against his face again and again. Outside someone was banging on the doors to get into the shower, but the man had apparently locked it. He and Brad ignored the cries and continued their razor boy face off.
"Got a donation for ya, you countrified 'hairless krishna,' if you want it. You want me to squirt a generous wad of my dickwax onto your hot dome, so I can polish it up nice and shiny? Eh, fucker? Whaddaya say?" Brad panted, his breath shortening with excitement as he jacked his dick furiously against the man's face.
The dude was pumping his own salami like mad as well. "You talk big, pal," he gasped, "but let's see some real jizz come outta that pea shooter. Cover my fuckin' head, buddy. C'mon, spew!"
"You want it? Okay, you asked for it. Here it comes, Kojack. Look out, man here--it--comessssssss--uhhhh!!!" Brad sputtered as he finally began to pump great jets of spermy spunk all over the man's shaved bald head. Brad gasped in pleasure as he watched the thick gloppy wads of his come dribble down on all sides of the stud's head and fall upon his ears, eyelids nose and lips. He slammed his throbbing prick hard against the bald head and flopped it around in the splashy, sticky flood of come, jacking himself even more with the slick man-slopped natural lube that was shooting out of his prick. Finally, exhausted, he fell back on to his ass on the shower floor and sat, trying to catch his breath. But in a flash a hot wet cannonball of an object smashed into his chest and knocked him down into a supine position on the cool, wet concrete. It was the dude's spooged up head, of course, rubbing him down like a big bottle of roll-on deodorant. Brad writhed with unheard of sensations as the smooth, rounded head ground slimy jizz into his hairless skin. His tits perked up and tingled as they got tweaked like pinball bumpers. He felt the dude's king-size prick rutting against his chest and belly and he grabbed it to pump and help him along. Within a minute or two, the dude was tossing his lava load all over Brad and sliding around in it on top of him like they were hot oil wrestling or something. Cocks crashing, balls banging, pecs grinding, and quarts of hot sex juice squirting out from between their hot sweating bodies like excess secret sauce on a big Mac when you slam its bun down.
As the two dudes lay panting on one another under the stream of the shower, the bald one with the now hairless dick picked up the razor that had long ago dropped from the other's hands. "There's just one more thing you're gonna have to let me do," he said to Brad, holding the gently below his chin to show that he meant business.
"What's that?" asked Brad.
"Get dressed and come with me and I'll show you," he replied.
Friday 13" #2 Smooth Operation
By Stroker Al
(part 2 or 2)
An hour later, Jerome approached the door to his cabin, fresh from his shower. He'd had to wait a long time for it because some clod or clods-- whose identity he never discovered-- had locked him out of the shower room. He'd banged on the door and waited around for twenty minutes or so, but then had given up and gone to the canteen for a Pepsi and to relax on the beach. Twenty minutes or so after that he'd returned and found the shower room unlocked and empty, but pungent with the distinct smell of jockspunk. Obviously he'd almost caught two buddies boffing in there and they'd waited him out so they could escape unidentified.
The image of two horny fellow camp staffers tossing each other off in there had made his dick instantly stiff, and the manseed scent had intensified the turn on to the point that he found himself stroking his thick pink meat as he showered. But he'd stopped before coming because it was Saturday, and he was hoping to score tonight, and wanted to be armed with a full tank of dick cream in case he would get the opportunity to shoot it all over or inside some lucky guy.
Now Jerome pulled on the doorknob to open the cabin door. It didn't come as easily as it usually did, almost as if someone were holding on to the inside knob. As the inside of the door swung into view he saw that a slender rope had been attached to the knob and that his action of opening the door was pulling it taught. Looking up and deep into the cabin, he saw that the other end of the rope had been tied around the corner of a bed sheet, which was being tugged off of a bunk through the force of the door opening.
The sheet furled up and then onto the floor, revealing something lying on the bunk. Once he realized what it was, Jerome impulsively shut the door behind him to keep anyone else from possibly seeing the view that he now beheld. Stretched out before him was the attractive form of a young man lying buck naked and spread eagled on the bunk. "Holy shit," Jerome said out loud.
Who was this dark, slim and hot-looking fellow sprawled out on Brad Carlson's bunk. Was he some visiting trick? Or maybe his little brother? He did, after all, resemble Brad in the face, but he had none of that fuckin' fur all over him. Thank heaven, thought Jerome, because though he wasn't pumped up much, this dude's body was fine and delectable and worth showing off.
As he stepped closer he saw that the stud's wrists and ankles had been lashed to the corners of the bed frame with the same kind of slender rope that had been tied to the door. The dude was looking up at Jerome but not saying anything. There was something blue stuffed in his mouth. Jerome reached between the guy' s lips and pulled out a bunched up pair of blue bikini briefs.
The face of the guy, no longer distorted by the mouthful of briefs was instantly recognizable as none other than Brad. "Thanks Jerome. Now please untie me." he gasped.
Puzzled, Jerome looked at Brad's face, then at his smooth body and finally at the balled up briefs in his hand, which looked oddly familiar to him, though darkened as they now were with Brad's saliva. He glanced around at his duffel bag leaning along the opposite wall and saw, sure enough, that the very pair he'd worn yesterday and that he'd tossed into the top of the bag were no longer there. They had been in Brad's mouth and were now in his hand.
"What are you waiting for Jerome, untie me, damn it!" Brad cried, straining at the ropes. His struggling made his semi-soft dick flop to one side of his groin.
"What happened to you man? You're totally hairless now. You look like a Greek statue." Jerome said, staring at Brad's firm, shapely and bronzed flesh.
"Never mind that, just get me untied!" Brad snapped.
"Wait a minute, now, I want to know who did this to you. And what were you doing with my underwear stuffed into your mouth?"
Brad glared at Jerome but then stopped struggling. He was going to have to tell Jerome something, but the truth, he thought, was too bizarre.
"Some of the guys did it to me. They were jealous of how hairy I am."
"How hairy you were," corrected Jerome glancing at Brad's big round pink nipples, which he had never seen before.
"They ganged up on me and dragged me in here, tied me up and shaved all my hair off of me. They gagged me with your briefs to shut me up, obviously. Now will you please untie me?"
Jerome looked him in the eyes and smirked. "I don't believe a word of it. None of these guys are fuckin' jealous of you. A lot of them thought you were hot for some reason I couldn't figure out, but I can't believe anyone would have gone to the trouble to shave your whole body out of spite."
"Well just look at me, damn it! Aren't I living proof?"
"I am looking at you," Jerome replied, reaching over and tracing the curve of Brad's left pec with a fingertip. "And I can see that you're lying. You shaved yourself because you decided you wanted to be smooth and now you're trying to make it look like somebody else did it against your will."
"That's nonsense," cried Brad. "What gives you an idea so ridiculous as that? Why the hell would I want to make myself look like a hairless pussy?"
"Well, first of all, nobody shaved you in here. There's not a speck of hair anywhere." Jerome paused to nudge the hard tip of Brad's left nipple with his finger. "But there is plenty of hair clogging up the drain in the floor of the shower room. You locked yourself in there and after shaving it all off you got so turned on that you jacked off all over the place, didn't you? "
Brad just stared at him, looking like he would burst in with a denial at any second, but just listened, seemingly oblivious to the steady hardening of his cock. "That was me trying to get in. When I finally did get in I could smell your jizz in the air. And as for why, well, it's pretty obvious that you did it for me, after the things I said about your hairiness."
"What? Are you crazy! I would never--"
"You thought that you could get me into bed with you if you made yourself smooth, the way I like my men." Jerome said. "Well you were absolutely right, you horny fucker. You look so fuckin hot to me right now that I could almost eat you alive." He bent his head down and licked at Brad's tit's, making him gasp. "You were thinking about doing me while you were jacking off in there, weren't you?"
Brad had the look of desperation like someone caught in a lie, but there was clearly something else going on as well, though Jerome couldn't have said what. "So how did I get here all tied up and gagged, huh?" he asked, almost as if he didn't know the answer himself.
"Look at this rope," Jerome smiled, tugging at the one binding Brad's left wrist. "It's only tied in a slip knot. You set the sheet and door and stuff up, tied your ankles and your other wrist, pulled the sheet up and had this rope looped and ready for your hand to slip into."
"Oh yeah, well What about the gag?" murmured Brad, not considering that Jerome couldn't have known that Brad had been gagged last of all. And Jerome would certainly never find out about how the bald man had searched the room for the perfect object to stuff into his mouth, and how when he'd discovered Jerome's briefs he'd scrunched his nose into them and inhaled and then laughed out loud just before carefully plugging up Brad's mouth with them. Brad hadn't quite understood what the bald guy had found so funny about the bikinis until they'd been in his mouth long enough to become saturated with saliva and the tastes began to flow freely through his mouth.
"Oh yes, my little cotton 'jawbreakers'. By the way, I'm sure they clued you in on my secret, didn't they? How every night I discreetly jack off into my underwear to muffle the sound and keep the guys from detecting the smell of jizz, " he grinned. "It never occurred to me to try to hide the taste of it! So how was it? Good, I hope 'cause that was one hell of a big messy wad I blew in them last night."
Brad's face blushed a deep red, but he couldn't think of anything to say.
"Well, for all I know you could have been munchin' on my Jockeys during the whole time you were arranging everything else. 'Cause the fact is, you could have spat these things out anytime you wanted to, they're small enough. But you didn't want to, did you?" Jerome teased as he caressed Brad's lips and chin. "You liked eating my dick drippings."
Brad sighed and looked at Jerome. "You're right. I loved chewin' on your cool blue bikinis and sucking your funky dried jizz and the sweat from your balls and dick right out of your used underwear. I want to make it with you so bad, I faked the whole thing just like you said. NOW WILL YOU PLEASE UNTIE ME?"
Jerome grinned at him, thinking how strange this bear-turned-buffed beauty was, still sounding like a liar even when he was admitting the truth. "What if I wanna do you just like this, all tied up?" he asked, devilishly.
"Well, I couldn't stop you now, could I?" replied Brad. But I'll tell you that once you untie my hands they're gonna be all over you and that luscious dick of yours, and once you feel that I guarantee you'll never regret it. "
"Okay, I'll untie you, " said Jerome, walking over to his belongings across the room. "But there's something I have to do first before you're totally out of my control."
"Fuck, you're worse than him," sighed Brad.
"Who?" asked Jerome, as he fished through his dopp kit.
"Oh, uh, nobody," Brad said quickly. "Just hurry it up, please, buddy. I want you so bad"
Jerome returned with a large bottle of Pierre Cardin aftershave. "Close your eyes now, Brad, and brace yourself. This is gonna feel incredible, like nothing else you've ever felt before."
Brad clenched his eyelids together in anticipation. He'd always loved the cool blast of heat from his own aftershave. Jerome poured nearly half the bottle out into his cupped hand and then flung the liquid at Brad's chest and neck and face. Brad felt instantly as though he had been doused in lighter fluid and set on fire. What was normally a fairly mild sensation on his rough facial skin felt like a blast furnace on his tender tits, and chest. He screamed once, mostly from shock but also from the sudden burning pain. His pink tits darkened and rose up hard as pebbles, as his cock stood up straight in the air. Jerome's hands suddenly pressed against his reddening chest and rubbed the liquid out over the rest of his body--his arms and legs, even his dick and balls, which also began to sting and redden. Then as soon as the fire had come it was gone, and in its place was the cool rush of the alcohol evaporating on his skin, which tingled and dried and became even smoother. "Ah. Yesssss," he sighed, shivering with the thrilling sensation, and tugging at all his ropes at the same time. When he finally relaxed with the cool, dry reclosing of his pores, he opened his eyes to see Jerome stripping off his shirt and pants, his yellow bikinis bulging with the thick pink pole that was sticking out of the waistband and pointing skyward. Then they were off too, and Jerome's prick was swinging free. Jerome leaped onto the bed and slammed his whole body down on top of Brad's. He crammed his tongue into Brad's protesting mouth and ground his whole body against his, the way the straight boys liked to do. As he tongue wrestled with Brad he began to make good at last on his promise, and untied Brad's wrists, one after the other. As soon as Brad's powerful hands were free, they were lifting Jerome's chest upward and pulling their faces apart. "My ankles. Get them now"
Jerome swiveled so that he was now straddling Brad backwards as he worked at the ropes that secured Brad's feet. Brad's hands squeezed Jerome's ass, hips, and stomach and he used them to pull himself up into a sitting position behind Jerome. Then he seized Jerome's plump dick and swollen balls. The second his feet were free, Brad encircled Jerome with his arms and threw him face down on the bed. Then he began to rut his whole body against Jerome's like an animal in heat, his dick nestled flat between Jerome's ass cheeks. Jerome then managed to turn over, and he yielded to Brad's full frontal assault. Brad's dick slammed repeatedly against his own, his hard tits were rubbing his own raw, and his thighs were thrashing against his own like huge sea lions humping their mates on the beach. Jerome extended his arms and legs to the corners of the bed, pretending he was tied the way Brad had been. Brad humped him totally, now invading Jerome's mouth with his willing, ready tongue.
Brad could feel absolutely everything now. His whole nearly hairless body was like a huge, incredibly sensitive sex organ that was totally fucking Jerome's. He felt the incredible, unprecedented sensation of this other man's light tuft of chest hair tickling his sternum. He loved the feeling so much that he thought for a second that Jerome didn't have enough of it to satisfy him. But as he roughly licked at Jerome's light brown thatch he realized that what made it feel so good was the response of his own body. Later he would find it funny that he couldn't decide whether or not he wanted all of his hair back for the pleasure of other guys, or whether he wanted to keep his chest this receptive to the feel of someone else's.
"We're bodyfucking, stud!" cried Jerome. "C'mon and slam me harder. Rub my dick raw with your hot prick."
"Rock me, Jerome," panted Brad. "Rut my fuckin' nuts off. Grip my ass and gimme a push." They mashed their faces together again and tongued out each other's throats. One of their firm hands grabbed the nearest lube -- Brad's sun tan oil -- and squirted the whole fucking bottle out between their grinding stomachs, gushing over and around the two men's hard cocks, making them slick as pistons running up and down in a hot racing engine. They slicked up their hands in the hot oily mess between them and started twisting each other's tits off like keys in the ignition of a hot car. Brad slid foreword to stradle Jerome's waist and sat up, reaching down to tug at both of Jerome's tits simultaneously, and watch the face of his new fuck buddy as his body writhed beneath him. "Yeah, man pull on those titties, " said Jerome. "Turn 'em blue. Oh, yeah."
Jerome grabbed Brad's cock as it hovered over his chest and started jacking it, pointing it straight toward his chin and licking it in between strokes. "Hose me down, buddy," he murmured. "I want your jockmess on my chest and in my face. I want to taste your fucking dick cream."
"You're gonna. Don't you worry." Brad assured him.
They rocked in a rhythm of dick strokes, tit twists, and the back and forth massaging of Jerome's dick as it lay slicked up and trapped beneath Brad's sliding, straddling crotch.
"You like that?" Brad asked him, with a leer. "You like a big smooth stud sliding around over your dick, grinding it down against your stomach. Riding it back and forth all slick and greasy. Feels as good as if you had it up my smooth ass, doesn't it?"
Jerome groaned and throbbed his dick in excited response. "Yeah, just like you were fucking my smooth, hairless pussy ass , " Brad teased him. "Oh, fuck!" Jerome cried, trying to get out from underneath Brad, thinking he'd just received an invitation, but Brad laughed and sat heavier upon him to keep him down. Jerome reached around to play with Brad's baby-smooth ass and naked manhole, but his hands were quickly brought back to Brad's dick again. "Easy, boy. Relax. You can forget about that. At least for now," he teased again. "Right now I've got a present for you coming up real fast. It's hot, wet, white, creamy and full of tasty grade A sperm. I'm gonna serve it up to you in a minute, but you've gotta help me prime the pump, dude. Yeah. Yeah, pump it like that. Jack me, Jerome. Take my load, it's all yours."
Brad grinned and opened and closed his eyes with the rising sensation of his approaching orgasm. He twisted Jerome's tits like radio dials and saw his face contort with pleasure. Jerome was jerking on his prick with both hands now and occasionally straining his head and neck forward to kiss the ropey pre-come off of Brad's dickhead. Twice he popped the entire strawberry shaped head into his mouth and sucked on it until it glistened.
"Lookout, fucker. Here's dessert!" panted Brad, rocking faster and faster on top of Jerome's flattened dick. "Take it, buddy take my fuck juice in your face. Yes. Yes. Take it. Ohhhhhhh."
Jerome backed off and watched as Brad's dick throbbed in his hands and exploded a jet of come that shot directly into his face, splattering his nose, cheekbones and lips. He gasped from the contact and pungent scent of the semen and from the sudden pitch of powerful pressure that Brad's crotch was applying on top of Jerome's dick, as well as the digging of Brad's short but hard nails into Jerome's tortured tits.
Subsequent wads of jizz from Brad's prick hosed over Jerome's neck and chest, making a puddle of steaming mansauce fit for a dick-loving king.
Brad caught his breath then swung one leg off of and over Jerome and then kneeled straddling over him facing the other direction. He seized Jerome's pink prick and began pounding it in his fist, while the spermy-faced Jerome groaned behind him. "Yes. Pump it, pump that fucking dick, Brad. Make me come all over, stud. Do me, buddy, do me good."
While Brad pumped, Jerome licked bittersweet come off of his lips and gazed up at the beautiful form above him. The novel smoothness of Brad's skin transformed his rear view into that of Michaelangelo's David. So aesthetic was the image that when Jerome lifted up and buried his come-sticky face in Brad's ass, still squeaky clean from the shower, he half expected the feel of cool marble to greet his lips when they came in contact with Brad's warm alabaster-white ass cleft.
When Jerome reached his goal, Brad gasped and stiffened, but continued to pump the fat prick in his hands. Hot breath tickled Brad's manhole before lips caressed it and finally a hot, wet tongue pushed its way inside. "Oh fuck, " he whispered at the incredible sensation. Then Jerome's strong hands slowly pulled his hips back and down until Brad was sitting fully on Jerome's face. Now Jerome's rough, stubbly chin ground into his ass as well, as he continued greedily tongue-fucking Brad.
Brad moaned and laid forward onto Jerome's stomach while he steadily jacked on the stud's cock, which he kissed and licked in between strokes, as it now jutted up right in front of his own face. He pumped and pumped, coaxing Jerome to shoot his wad. "C'mon fucker, spew that rank jock load. Right here, buddy. Spew me in the face."
Jerome groaned loudly into Brads ass and gripped his hips even harder. Brad sat harder onto his face in response, and ground his hard jock butt around on it, while Jerome's hot probing tongue continued to flutter inside and tickle Brad's musky hole. Jerome humped his hips upward to meet Brad's strokes, and a minute later he cried out, though Brad could more feel it in his guts than he could hear it.
"Oh Yeah!" whispered Brad as he took Jerome's spermy ejaculation smack wet in the face, as he'd hoped, the dude's fat, springy cock repeatedly slapping against Brad's cheeks, nose, lips and chin as Jerome bucked up and down beneath him in the throes of orgasm.
But as Brad basked in this seminal assault on his face, he was suddenly aware of a hot wet sensation on his back. He looked up and to see a man dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt up in the rafters above them with his fly open and his huge dick out, from which big globs of come were still shooting. It was the bald man again, only this time he said nothing. He just put a finger to his lips in a gesture warning Brad to keep silent, and then buttoned up and crawled off. By the time Brad got off of Jerome's face, he was gone.
The rest of the summer Brad disappointed many staff and campers by wearing as much clothing as possible. There was nothing more frustrating, after all, than a hairy stud who was modest. But because of his close living quarters and the nature of his job, word got around eventually that he'd shaved himself smooth. No one understood it, and though everybody whispered about it, no one had the guts to confront him and ask him why. Gradually, as he became more comfortable, he went back to wearing shorts and occasionally removing his shirt. New campers didn't respond to him the way the old ones had, and though he was a little disappointed at the lack of attention, in one way it was a relief.
So other than that, bonking Jerome hadn't changed his life in any significant negative way. In fact, the only real change in his daily routine was that now he and Jerome got up each morning at 5 a.m. and hit the showers together. No one else ever attempted to use the showers during that time, but if they had, they would have encountered a locked door, from behind which would have been heard a low electric whine of Brad's Norelco shaver.
Brad's daily shaving routine still involved only his face, while Jerome's involved shaving Brad's entire body. Jerome didn't mind at all, needless to say, for it was amazingly quick and easy, as long as they did it every day. Plus, the vibrating warm sensation had a marvelously arousing effect on both of them, which in turn lead them to start their days off with a bang, so to speak. They knew they couldn't keep this up forever, between the coarseness of Brad's hair and the time factor and all, but they vowed to make it to the end of summer at least, so that for that for that brief time, they could give each other a satisfaction they'd never dreamed of.
Brad even talked Jerome into letting him shave off his bush, and even obtained a promise from Jerome that he would let Brad shave his head just before their last sexual encounter of the summer and each went their separate ways home and back to college. Both men knew they would be in for some big time embarrassment in the locker rooms at school for a while, but they did it anyway, without regret, and had among the hottest times of their lives. For while they knew that nothing lasts forever, they also knew that that was a relief in many ways. Thus, their hairlessness was entirely forgotten in only a matter of a couple months.
Look for further adventures of Friday 13"