Reply-To: an106131@anon.penet.fi
"Horny Guy Tails, #21"
Fantasy of the Month: I always had the hots for one of the personal trainers on the men's athletic team at my former high school...nice well-built chest, nice butt...who CARES about cock-size? Well, uhmmm==>read on, and find out just who cares!
Any takers for this fantasy, tho...one coach, or two? *Send email...especially if you've ever done * *the coach at your high school, before! * I just might be in for an unexpected trip by air!
"Good morning, Mr. Bond." Laurie Heckert. Blond hair. Big tits. Bimbo. You could hear her giggling all the way down the hall to her homeroom. Mr. Bond acknowledged her but didn't watch as she minced away, ass swinging back and forth like a fucking pendulum.
"Hey, Mr. Bond." Bond nodded. He made no other moves, but I could tell he was watching as Dave Taggert swaggered on his way to his locker. Dave wasn't so bad - for a jock. He always had a stupid expression on his face - like maybe he'd just gotten hit in the head by a stray football - but he had a nice ass and pretty impressive biceps. Still, I figured Mr. Bond had better taste than that.
Of course he had better taste than that. Mr. Bond - Phillip Bond, to be precise about it - was a dude. Actually, he was more than that. He was a fox. He was a hard-on. A wet dream. He was the man who ran my fantasy life, in any case. At the age of 18, maybe I couldn't claim to be an expert, but I knew what I liked, and he was definitely righteous. Totally cool.
He was a teacher, but I didn't hold that against him. He actually managed to make math interesting, although maybe I just concentrated harder in his class than in others. This was his first assignment out of college, but it wasn't like he was some rank beginner. Not Mr. Bond. He was in charge, in control, in touch. He knew his stuff and could talk it so you didn't think he was speaking a foreign language or something.
I wasn't attracted to him because he could do fractions, of course. The draw was more basic than that. He was about 6 foot 2, weighed 180, and had dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a face like a model in a high-class magazine. He wore steel-rimmed glasses, but on him they looked way cool. No way anybody'd call him "four eyes."
Now, to tell the truth, I couldn't tell you what he looked like naked because I'd never seen him that way. The bod was hidden under a layer of baggy clothes, but he carried himself like a man who had lots of self-confidence. There was no hiding the tight, rounded butt under the slacks either. Believe me, I watched. Mr. Bond had big, square hands with long, thick fingers. There were short bristly hairs growing across the sinewy backs and on the knuckles. Like total outrage.
"Hey, Eric."
I looked up. It was my friend Tony. How a guy named Antonio Boniface Ventura could end up looking like Tony was beyond me. He was a genuine Italian - his old man ran a pizza joint, for chrissakes - but he looked like some blond, rosy-cheeked cherub. Well, he actually looked like some cherub who'd had a bicycle pump stuck up his butt and got pumped full of air. Only it wasn't air, it was all muscle. Big bulging muscle in all the right places, with perfect, hairless skin stretched over it. Tony could've been a wet dream too, only I don't go for guys my own age. I like them older - older like Mr. Phillip Bond.
"Hey, Tony," I said, "How's it going?"
"Not so good. I didn't get my math assignment done."
"Jesus, Tony. How do you expect to graduate, man?" I grabbed him by the neck and squeezed playfully.
He batted his baby blues at me sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Eric. I got busy."
"Yeah, I know. Busy down in the basement with those weights. You oughta give it a rest. You're gonna bust right out of your skin."
"Got my arms pumped to 20 inches last night," Tony bragged, making a muscle.
I squeezed the knot, just like I always did. Hell, you gotta keep a guy's spirits up. "Fucking marshmallow, Tony," I teased. His face fell. "Jesus, man, I was only kidding. You're a stone wall." His beautiful smile returned. "I'll help you with the math at lunch."
"You're a pal, Eric." Tony draped an arm over my shoulder, and we headed off to our homeroom.
"Good morning, gentlemen. You'd better put some power behind it, or you'll be late." Mr. Bond's face was stern, but I could've sworn I saw a twinkle in his eye. Everyone who looked at Tony got a twinkle, so it wasn't such a big surprise.
"Thanks, Mr. Bond," I said, feeling my heart beat just a little faster. When we walked past I got a little whiff of him. It wasn't cologne or anything. Just him. You know. I copped a glance when we slipped into homeroom just under the bell. Mr. Bond was still standing there, looking our way. Probably staring at Tony's ass. Figured.
The alarm went off at 6:30. I rolled over in bed, slapped the clock silly, and stuck my head back under the pillow. Then I remembered and jumped out of bed like I'd been goosed. It was Saturday, and I had a date. Well, actually it wasn't a date, and Tony was going along with me, but I was excited as hell. I had overheard Mr. Bond telling one of the other teachers that he was going to be building a fence today, so I had volunteered Tony and myself to help. Mr. Bond had seemed a little startled at first, but when he figured I was serious, he had agreed to the scheme. Tony didn't know a hammer from a nail, but I'd taken shop class. Besides, I had other plans for Tony.
I had it all figured out. I was pretty sure Mr. Bond was into guys. It was just this gut feeling, but I was willing to go with it and see what happened. I was hoping he'd get all revved up and maybe jump Tony's bones and I could sort of watch. When you laid it out like that, it sounded kind of like a sicko thing to do, but, hey, I was desperate. I really had this thing about seeing Mr. Bond naked and watching him have sex. I hadn't quite figured out how I was gonna make it all happen, but I wasn't about to turn back now.
I went to the can and took a piss, then went back to my bedroom to get ready for the day. I stopped in front of the big mirror on my closet door and checked myself out.
I sure as hell didn't look like anybody's idea of an angel. When I was a kid, I was really homely - big nose, floppy ears, huge eyes, and a jutting chin. Now that I was grown, I was no beauty, but at least I'd grown into my features, although my ears still stuck out a little bit. I kept my black hair cropped really short, and when I didn't shave - like this morning - I had a dark shadow that made me look a little sinister. My thick black eyebrows, arched up to little points near the center, added to the impression. Some people said it made me look intense, others told me I looked like the devil himself. At least people didn't mistake me for somebody else when they saw me in the halls at school.
I struck a pose and checked my physique. As a kid I'd been called wiry. To me that translated as skinny, and I'd hated it. Since becoming a freshman, I'd been working out - handing around Tony helped with that - and although I wasn't bulky, at least I wasn't skinny anymore. My torso was still lean, but I had managed to pump up my pecs full and tight, and my arms were filling out to the point that when I flexed, people noticed. Since I'd never had any fat on my body, the washboard gut had been easy for me, much to Tony's disgust. The legs had been a tougher challenge, but I had finally put a little bulk on my thighs and knots of muscle in my calves. No more bird legs, thank you very much.
"Hey there, pervert!"
"Jesus!" I yelped, jumping about a foot off the floor.
"Give me a fucking heart attack, why don't you?" Tony had climbed up the trellis at the end of the porch and was peering through the window of my bedroom. "I was just getting dressed."
"Liar," Tony said, shaking his head and climbing over the sill. "Christ, Eric, I don't know how you keep from passing out."
I looked down. My dick was levitating, jutting out parallel to the floor. Must've been all that flexing and posing I'd just been doing.
"Can't help it," I said, making no effort to hide my boner from Tony. He'd seen it before.
"Gonna let me touch it?"
"You gotta ask?" Tony loved to play with my dick. How can a guy say no to a buddy?
"Too much," Tony muttered, wriggling out of his tight shorts and the skimpy tank top that wasn't doing much to hide his eye-popping muscles. "Door locked?"
"They never get up before 9 on Saturday," I assured him, clapping my hands on his thick shoulders as he knelt in front of me. "It's all yours, buddy." I fisted my meat and smacked it against the solid wall of his chest.
"So fucking big," Tony muttered, his baby blues clouding with lust. He pressed it in the valley between his pecs and stroked it with both hands. It is pretty impressive, if I do say so myself. It's the one part of my anatomy where I didn't have to fight for bulk. Eleven inches long, and as thick as my wrist, my dick sometimes scares even me. Tony didn't look too scared right now, however; he was stroking the broad back, following the big veins from my bush out to my come hole. When he peeled the skin back and rubbed my knob against the hard points of his pink tits, I groaned happily.
"Want me to suck it?" Tony asked, looking up as he licked his full, pouty lips.
"Uh...I don't think so, dude," I replied, shaking my head. "Last time it took me two weeks to heal up. You got too many teeth."
"It's like trying to jam a log into your mouth," Tony said defensively.
"I could stick it somewhere else," I chuckled, leering down at him.
"Not in this lifetime," Tony said, squeezing my cock hard. "You'd split me wide open, man. Nobody could sit on that post and live to tell about it."
"Wanna do the usual then?"
Tony nodded and leaned back, bracing his hands on the floor behind him. I straddled him, bent my knees, and began pumping his glorious torso.
"Your balls, man. Your balls."
I hunkered down a little more, and my fat balls dragged along the silky wall of his belly. Tony groaned in ecstasy. My cock pumped back and forth in the valley between his big pecs, and I groaned in ecstasy, myself.
"Eric, what the hell is this? Eric!"
I was about five minutes into it, my mind floating off on a big cloud of testosterone. I opened my eyes and grinned down at Tony. He'd been rubbing my legs and belly, ruffling the hairs up against the grain, making them stand on end. His fingers were currently tangled in the silky moss on my chest. He thumped my left tit, and I blushed.
"Oh, that," I said. "I did it last week." I'd had my nipple pierced on a whim - two tiny gold studs screwed on to a little pin that went right through the fleshy point of my tit. Tony twisted it a little, and my cock rose up high, the know bulging.
"Cool, man. Like you really needed to do something to draw attention to your tits."
My nipples were bigger than quarters and dark brown, the points jutting out a good half inch from the rise of my pecs. They were sensitive as hell, and the little stud made it worse. Tony tweaked my tit again, and I damn near came on the spot.
"Come on, man. We gotta get a move on."
I hunkered back down and thrust my hips forward, banging my rod against Tony's chin. He leaned up into me and wrapped one arm around my waist, the other slipping down to his groin. He jerked his dick a few times, and I felt a hot shot on the back of my calf. His whole body twitched under me, sending all the right sensations through my horny frame.
"Tell me," he begged, both hands on my thighs, eyes glued to the end of my dick. "Tell me in time."
"Now!" I grunted, my balls drawing up tight between my legs. Tony loved to eat my spunk, and he got pissed if he missed any, so I tried to warn him a couple of strokes before the payoff. He clenched my cock in a grip of iron, the hot pucker of his mouth pressed against the spout. Tony started trembling and moaning, making more noise than I was. I slid along the slippery trail one last time, then clasped my hands behind Tony's head and let her rip. I felt the jism boiling up along the fat tube running under my dick, the tingling in my stalk becoming unbearable, and I popped a thick gusher into my buddy's waiting mouth.
Tony gulped greedily, his throat muscles working as he chowed down on the hot, sticky contents of my big balls. When the pumping stopped he started milking the stalk, smacking his lips, digging around with his tongue in the slit to scoop out the last traces of my load. "I'm dry already," I gasped, pushing his head back and trying to disengage my tool from his big fists. "You're gonna pull it out by the roots one of these days."
"Seems well-anchored to me," Tony chuckled, standing up and stretching mightily. "I love those protein supplements!" He licked his lips and flopped down on my bed.
"Hey, get a move on," I said, wiping the back of my leg with a crusty towel from under the bed. "We've got a fence to build."
"Horny Guy Tails, #22"
""Man, I just can't deal with this!" I whined. We were standing on Mr. Bond's front porch, having just rung the bell, and were waiting for him to answer.
"Looks terrific," Tony assured me, a wicked twinkle in his eyes. Well, it had seemed like a good idea at the time, but then I'd just shot about a quart of jizz down my good buddy's throat. He'd rummaged around in my chest of drawers and pulled out this pair of gray workout shorts that laced up the front like a football uniform. Only there wasn't any room for padding. Hell, there wasn't even enough room for me. I tugged at the pouch in the crotch, but it didn't help. I tried pulling down on the black tank top Tony had talked me into, but it missed meeting up with the waistband of the shorts by a good three inches.
"I look like I've been shoplifting at a fruit stand."
Tony had said no jock, and I could clearly see the outline of my cock and balls straining against the flimsy fabric. "This is-" I shut up when the door swung open.
"Come on in, guys," Mr. Bond said, motioning us inside. He glanced at me briefly, then turned to Tony - naturally. Tony started in babbling about something, and I followed them through the house and out to the backyard.
Mr. Bond was wearing shorts - there is a God - and a baggy old T-shirt. His butt, high and round and tight, flexed against the worn fabric as he walked. He also had these totally gorgeous runner's legs - long, with dense, pale brown fuzz. I felt my temperature start to rise.
Mr. Bond offered us orange juice and rolls, then we got down to work. He had everything all figured out, so it was just a matter of hauling lumber and nailing up boards. By lunchtime we were half done, and by 6 that evening we had finished building and cleaned up the mess.
Mr. Bond was so pleased with our work that he fired up the barbecue grill and insisted that we stay for dinner.
Things were not going so well as far as my little scheme was concerned. For one thing, I wasn't sure how to bring it off - I couldn't just lock the two of them in the basement or the garage and watch through the window till something happened. Tony wasn't being much help, either. Oh, he was looking hot, his muscles twitching and bulging as he hauled posts and fence boards around, but Mr. Bond wasn't exactly picking up on him. Not so as I could tell, anyway. Everytime I'd go to pick up a load of boards, they'd be talking when I came back around the corner, but I never got the feeling they were plotting to sneak off and screw each other.
I, on the other hand, was about ready to hump a gopher hole. After lunch Mr. Bond took off his shirt, and I about lost it. Funny, he wasn't real built or even all that defined - he was just perfect. He had a nice chest, smooth and sleek and tanned, and a flat belly - no fat, no deep-cut abdominal ridges, no hair. His forearms were furry like his legs, but there wasn't anything to impede the view of his lean torso. As he worked, sweat trickled down the hollow of his spine, and it was all I could do not to run over and lick it off.
"Oh, hell! I gotta go. My old man'll kill me." Tony had just stuffed the last bite of steak in his mouth when he suddenly jumped up and made his announcement. Tony lives in constant fear of his old man - who is about 5 foot 7 and weighs maybe 95 pounds. Go figure.
"What? What is this?" My plans were not only fading, they were running away.
"I...I told my dad I'd help out at the restaurant tonight. I forgot all about it." Tony sucked up his soda, shook hands with Mr. Bond, and ran off into the warm summer evening. My plans had run around on Tony and his old man's goddamn pizza parlor. Life's a bitch.
"Well," I said reluctantly, "guess I'd better be going."
"No hurry, Eric," Mr. Bond replied. "Besides, I hate to do dishes alone." I took some more salad and listened to Mr. Bond talk about his plans for a deck. When I was finished we cleared the table and carried the dishes inside. I made it a point to walk a couple of paces behind him, my eyes glued to his butt. His shorts had sort of bunched up into his crack while he was sitting, and the globes of his ass looked like full, ripe melons. Oh, man!
"Shit!" Mr. Bond had flipped on the light above the sink. It flickered and popped. "Damn cheap bulbs," he groused. He rummaged in a closet and found a bulb, then turned to me. "I'll need your help, Eric. This fixture is about to fall apart. I'll hold it here on the sides and you can pop out the glass and replace the bulb."
"Got it," I said. He leaned against the sink and reached up. When his long fingers pressed against the rim of the fixture, I could see that the whole thing moved around in the ceiling. I grabbed the bulb off the counter and quickly noticed that there was only one way to get to the socket. I was going to have to lean up against Mr. Bond and reach over him. I bit my lip and stepped forward.
By the time I was able to unlatch the hinged square of glass in the fixture, the lump in my crotch was firmly wedged between Mr. Bond's succulent cheeks. My body was pressed against his back, and my chin was up against his shoulder. I reached for the light, straining upward.
"Jesus!" I moaned, popping the clip on the fixture.
"Hot?" Mr. Bond asked.
"I'm fine," I muttered.
Either I was going totally nuts or Mr. Bond's ass cheeks were beginning to flex, squeezing tantalizingly at the knot in my shorts. I began unscrewing the burned-out bulb, and the flexing got more intense. Needless to say, my prick started to respond, lengthening and thickening as the blood pumped down into it. The head of it slipped out of the pouch and began to push down along the inside of my left thigh. I tried to think of something that wasn't sexy, but with sex standing right in front of me, it was impossible. My shaft cleared the leg hole of the shorts and thrust down along my thigh. My hairs tickled the underside of the thick tube, and other hairs tickled the broad back of the shaft.
"Ah!" Mr. Bond made this soft, little sound. I had a feeling all of a sudden that he wasn't groaning about the fact that I'd just screwed in the new lightbulb. I popped the glass back up, taking my time about making sure the clip was properly in place. I didn't want to move - and I was afraid of what might happen when I did. I finally dropped my arm to my sides, knowing that no amount of time was going to relieve the pressure on my cock.
Mr. Bond lowered his arms as well, but he made no other move. Neither did I. My cock remained trapped between our two thighs, getting harder by the second. I felt the muscles in his leg flex, pressing hard against my dick. My mouth was dry, and I thought my heart was going to explode. I happened to glance up and see Mr. Bond's reflection in the darkened window above the sink. His eyes were shut, and he was biting his lower lip. There was a small muscle pulsing in his jaw, and a vein stood out on his temple, fluttering rapidly. Hell, he was as bad off as I was!
And he was waiting for me to make the first move. Of course. I was the student, and he was the teacher. Even though I was legal, he was afraid to put the moves on me for fear of getting in trouble. He hadn't pushed me away, and he hadn't spun around and popped me one. Could the guy actually want me? Me instead of Tony? Incredible. In_fucking_credible!
I don't know how, but I finally got up the nerve to slip my arms around him. Man, he felt good! He was warm, his skin smooth and soft against my palms. I rubbed one hand up his chest, the other down his belly. The one going down bumped into something soft and sticky. I explored, touching the arrow-shaped tip of his stiffer, which was jutting up over the waistband of his shorts. He let out a soft moan, almost like a sob.
"Hey, dude," I murmured, tracing the ridge of his dick down lower, pressing the fabric tight against it, "it's cool. Way cool."
I kissed his neck. His right hand slipped back and touched my thigh. I moved my leg, and his fingers wrapped tightly around the stalk of my hard-on. As he worked his way down to the hooded knob on the end, his moans got louder. When he slipped a fingertip into my foreskin, my moans got pretty loud, too.
I couldn't believe that Mr. Bond - Mr. Cool, man of my fantasies - was touching my dick. If I couldn't believe that, what he did next really put my senses to the test. He wriggled around in my grasp, knelt down, and started kissing the shaft of my dick. His lips were real soft, putting the pressure on all the right places. I damn near collapsed when he hooked his lips over the end of my piece and I felt his tongue for the first time. He burrowed into my skin and zeroed in on my pisshole, a gesture that curled my toes back toward my heels.
All the while he was tugging at one of the legs of my shorts, pulling it up till my balls spilled out and sagged heavily against my thigh. My cock cranked up, and Mr. Bond came right along with it, keeping the knob firmly gripped with his hot lips. He fisted it and pulled forward, shucking the skin out over the tip till it hung down in loose folds. He looked up at me, licked his lips, winked, then got the skin between his teeth and started shaking his head back and forth, like a puppy does when you try to take its chew toy away.
While I was still taking that in, he all of a sudden took a deep breath and started going down on me. I watched in amazement as his head came closer and closer and he swallowed my whole dick right up the bush. When his forehead was against my belly, and he started licking my balls, I knew the definition of bliss. I knew Mr. Bond had teeth, but they weren't raking my meat. All I felt was heat and pressure and the rhythmic flexing of the muscles in his throat.
When he finally came up for air, he gasped, "You are one big dude!" Then he tongued my knob for awhile, licking every surface till it gleamed, and swallowed me again. He kept it up, his head bobbing back and forth, his hands exploring my body, setting my nerves on fire.
I was thinking life couldn't get any better, and then Mr. Bond said the magic words: "Fuck me!" His voice was hoarse, authoritative. I nodded, too stunned by the prospect to speak, and Mr. Bond clambered to his feet. He grabbed my dick and led me into the bedroom, stripping out of his shorts on the way. I watched his pale, bare, hairless ass flex as we walked down the long hallway. Once we were in the room, he got naked, and so did I. I stood at the foot of the bed looking at him, my cock waving uncontrollably in the air in front of me, spitting clear goo.
I'd never fucked a buy before - or a girl, for that matter. I wanted to, but I wasn't quite sure how to go about it. I sure as hell wanted to do it right. I guess Mr. Bond knew what was up because he came over to me and started rubbing up against me like a cat in heat.
"How do you want me?" he asked softly. "Back or belly?"
"Uh...back," I spluttered, hoping I'd made the right choice. I figured that way I could see his face and play with his cock. It must have been OK with him because he kissed me and fell back onto the bed with me on top of him.
I was humping his belly and getting off on kissing him when he pushed me back. I sat up between his thighs, and he hooked his hands behind his knees and pulled his legs up and apart. I stared down at his ass in fascination. His asshole looked like this pouty little mouth, full pink lips all puckered up tight.
"You want it?" he teased, his asshole fluttering. I didn't say anything, but my dick rose up and slapped me in the gut. Mr. Bond chuckled, and his hole fluttered again. I fisted my prick and leaned forward. The first contact was damn near enough to do me in. I could feel his heat shooting up along the shaft of my dick, lighting a fire in my gut. He took a deep breath and looked at me intently.
"Now!" he growled, baring his teeth. I pushed, the tight little pucker gave way, and I was in the hottest, tightest, smoothest place I'd ever been. Mr. Bond's eyelids fluttered, and little beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, but since he didn't tell me to stop, I just kept burrowing till my bush was mashed tight in his crack.
Putting my dick up inside a man's body was the hottest thing I'd ever done. My hips were against his smooth ass, his bare feet were pressed against my chest, and I could feel every move he made, even his breathing. I pressed my hands against his belly, but he grabbed my wrists and pulled me forward. His legs hooked over my shoulders and he started kissing me. My hips snapped into action, and I started to fuck.
Man, it was intense! There was the constant pressure of his body, but there was nothing to stop me from pulling my dick out, then shoving it back in as far as it could go. Mr. Bond was loving it, his stiffer poking my belly, his tongue damn near plugging my throat. He was pulling the hairs on my chest, making my balls tingle like all that hair had roots that grew down into them. Then he found the stud in my nipple. He tweaked the bulging point of nerves, and I slammed into him so hard, my balls smacked against his ass.
"Yeah," he growled, his voice a low animal rumble. I slowly withdrew,, made him wait a second, then barreled back into him. He made this little gurgling sound and twisted my tit again.
I quickly got the feeling that I'd found the rhythm of the fuck. I battered him again and again, trying to remember to go slow, waiting to spear him till he whimpered for it. That lasted about five minutes, and then I sort of lost control. I rolled him further back onto his shoulders, braced my hands, and dug in with my toes. Then I started working the fuck my way - frantic, hard, and fast. The pressure built, and the sensations rushing through me got to be just too much to bear.
Then all my attention focused on the end of my dick. The tingling started, getting stronger and more insistent. I finally stopped humping and stayed real still, letting the feeling build, grow, and spread until I totally lost control. I howled out loud and began bouncing, shooting jism right up Mr. Bond's hot and steamy ass.
I wedged my h and between our bellies and latched onto his piece. It flexed strongly against my palm, and then I felt the hot flow pouring over my knuckles. I hadn't even jacked him; I just touched him once, and he came. That was power. I humped him a few more times, then collapsed on top of him like I'd had a heart attack or something.
"Hot fuck, you sexy devil!" Mr. Bond had whispered those words in my ear. I raised my head and looked at him in amazement.
"I don't fucking believe this," I panted, talking to the mattress more than to him.
"What don't you believe, Eric? That I could think you're the sexiest thing on two legs? That feeling your big cock pumping away up my ass damn near blew my brains out? That I'm still so horny, my balls hurt? What don't you believe?"
"I...just figured you thought Tony-"
"Tony? Not my type." Mr. Bond shook his head, and his long hairy legs somehow got wrapped around my waist, pinning me. Not that I wanted to move or anything. "Those pumped-up little pretty- boy cherubs are a dime a dozen. Sexy devils, on the other hand, are harder to find." His asshole clenched down tight, and my cock surged. "Real devils with dicks like yours are harder still. Much harder."
"Gee, thanks, Mr. Bond."
"Shut up Eric," Mr. Bond growled good-naturedly, grabbing the stud in my tit and twisting it hard. "Shut up and fuck the hell out of me." *******************************************
This is the last of "Horny Guy Tails", until January '95...be sure to have a SAFE and FUN New Year's!
Until then ENJOY!!! *******************************************