That first chapter turned out faster than i expected. After this chapter. they'll be a little longer.
if you are not 18 years of age, or the required age for your region to consume adult content, please do not read this story. It will will contain sexual themes, including dominantion, oral sex, and anal sex.
I'll be happy for any feedback, and you can send it to me via email.
zander.saldana (at) protonmail (dot) com
there's potential for some incest here between adult men in their 20s. not everyone's into that, so I'm not sure if I'll go that route. I could include that in future chapters if there's interest.
please donate to Nifty if you are able, they're gracious enough to run this for us, i know I've visited this site for years, and I'm glad it's around. http://donate.nifty.org/
Saturday comes around finally, and I head over to Jackson's place. He lives in a modest looking duplex. As I get to the door, and im about to knock, the door suddenly opens, but it's not Jackson answering the door. A guy my height answers wearing a road cycling outfit, with the shirt unzipped, showing off a hairy, defined chest.
He's got his bike beside him and he looks as shocked as me for a second. Then he says, "Oh! Your my bro's friend from work, Zander, right?" He looks a bit like a bigger, slightly older version of Jackson.
"Yeah, that's me...," I can't help but check him out. The tight, spandex shorts don't leave much to the imagination. He's broad shouldered and lean, with beefy cycler's thighs, "and your name? Jackson didn't mention he had a brother."
"Oh I get it, he's a quiet guy. I'm not surprised. I'm Jordan by the way. Our parents like names that start with J, hah! Anyway, I'm gonna be out cycling with friends, and then I'm gonna crash at a friend's house. Y'all will have the place all to yourselves."
He gives me a wink, and I step out of the way, so he can go past. I check out Jordan's ass as he goes by.
He looks over his shoulder at me and says, "Jackson is just getting out of the shower, go ahead and wait in the living room. He said you'd be here at noon."
I head into the front door, still thinking about Jordan's perky, beautiful ass and have to adjust my semi-hard cock. That isn't the kind of stimulation I think I need before hanging out with a straight dude who wants to talk about stripping.
I've barely shut the front door, when across the dimly lit living room, and down a hall, another door opens which I assume is the bathroom, because Jackson walks out in a thin cloud of steam with nothing but a towel wrapped low across his hips.
It's my first time actually seeing his body at all, and I'm honestly impressed. He's thin and kind of small, bit not soft or twink-ish. He has lean, practical looking muscles. Jackson has a small patch of chest hair between his hard pecs that turns into a thin trail in the cleft of his 6 pack abs, and goes past his navel. With the towel so low, i could see a good portion of his moderately trimmed bush as well.
"Oh, Zander! You're already here. Just as reliable as you are at work." He gives me smile, and then suddenly realizes he's just in the towel and his shoulders hunch. "I'll be right out, lemme get dressed."
Jackson rushed down the hall, but i could see his pert backside for a moment and the little bit of hair on his back above his ass, that wasn't covered by the towel.
I was a bit taken a back, but got myself pulled together enough. He and his brother had a big TV, with several video game consoles. It looked like they even had a Super Nintendo. The walls had typical "bro-ey" art. Some Tarantino posters. And some Star Wars art. The couch was a big sectional that had seen better days with a messy coffee table crowded with a bong and other pot stuff. There was a kitchen and dining nook off to the side with a sliding glass door, looking on to an immaculate backyard. A big contrast to the frat house living room.
"Go ahead and sit down, I'll grab us something to drink. You like Cider right? I remember you mentioning that one time."
I'm Surprised he remembered that.
Jackson had come into the living room wearing some well worn basketball shorts, and a lose tank top. The ensemble showed off his hairy calves, and defined arms. It was hot catching stolen glimpses of his small pink nipples, and hairy pits as he walked over to the kitchen. He had a bit of a farmer's tan.
I found a spot on the couch to plop down on, and adjusted my growing semi again. It was a hot day, so I was wearing some khaki shorts, that could be considered a bit too short at mid thigh, but I liked how they accentuated my legs. The dark gray tshirt was a bit tight, and showed off my arms and pecs.
Maybe I was trying to see if he was up for seduction, or maybe I was dressing for the heat. The number of straight guys that have confessed being curious to me is not small, so I was preparing myself i suppose.
Jackson comes over to me at the couch. "Man it's fuckin' hot today isn't it? Here's a cider, I hope you like it."
I can see a faint outline of his cock through the short's weathered, and shimmering fabric. I force my eyes to keep traveling up to his face though, which is looking more handsome to me now, with its sharp angles. He has a prominent Adam's apple as well.
He sits down on the same side of the couch as me, about an arm's length away and spreads a bit turning his shoulders towards me some. His tank top exposes an armpit and a nipple.
Jackson takes a swig of beer, nods at the sliding door, "I've been working in the yard this morning. I did yard work for beer money during college, and now its just a habit."
"Yeah, even from here I can see it's nice back there. It's good work."
"Ah, thanks man. Want to go take a quick look?" he looks genuinely proud of it, I haven't seen him actually enthusiastic about anything during our time at work or at lunch. He's usually such a cool customer.
I give him a crooked smile, "Sure." And start to get up.
As he's getting up, his shorts shift around it's obvious he's packing a sizable dick, and that he's wearing something that's keeping it all in place, briefs or something maybe.
He leads me around the small dining table to the sliding door. Jackson's in front of me sliding the door open to let us out, and i see he has light freckles on his strong shoulders. That's not something I've found hot before, but it looks good on him.
I shake my head. God, stop thinking with your dick you absolute perv. Not every guy wants on your cock.
We step out into an immaculate backyard. The grass is perfectly green, and looks like it was trimmed by hand with scissors. There's topiary bushes around the perimeter, in front of the fence that are faultless, and surrounded by flowers that would put an English garden to shame.
"Wow..." I'm kind of speechless. It's not what I was expecting after the brodeo in the living room.
"Yeah... i would do this for the extra money for my car, like I did in college, but it just wouldn't work with my current schedule." I can tell he's proud though. "I guess that means we can talk about the alternative eh?" He shrugs his head towards inside. "Wanna smoke out and talk about it?"
"Uh... sure? I haven't smoked pot in ages. I'll have to take it easy."
"No worries man, I like to smoke a bowl post yard work. It's a tradition at this point."
We make our way back inside, and I catch a whiff of his soap as he walks close by me. I feel my senses on edge with how Jackson's opening up around me. I'm not sure if he's noticing my cock starting to snake every so slightly across my hip. I'm not huge, but bigger than average at almost 7 inches. Cut, with a fat head, and I'm fairly thick.
Since I'm wearing these shorts, I'm in a pair of bright red briefs, that have a little trouble containing my ass, and my dick when it starts getting hard.
We take our places back on the couch, but Jackson sits more sideways this time, with one foot behind the other knee, towards me. I don't want to put my prick on display at this point, so I sit forward, but man spread a bit, and lean towards the coffee table and its paraphernalia.
"Could you hand me the baggie, a bowl and the ashtray, I'll get it packed." I hand him the bowl and baggie, and then set the ashtray between us. He methodically gets it all ready and says, "this is pretty good shit. Jordan gets it from a friend that grows their own." He's so different than he is at work. I feel like he's barely the same schlubby, mousy guy I have my lunch break with.
When he's done he hands the baggie back to me, and points at the bong, which looks like it just got refreshed with new water. While I hand it to him I say, "well, I'm used to shitty southwest weed. This Oregon stuff always knocks me out. I'll have to be careful."
"Ah, your fine dude. This is a safe space. You can hang out as long as you need to feel safe to drive."
Jackson lights up the bong, and takes the biggest fucking rip I've ever seen. He tilts his head back, exposing his beautiful neck, and exhales while handing me the bong and the lighter.
I at least have my shit together enough, not to take a giant hit. I offer it back to him, and he shakes his head so I set it back down on the table.
We both take a swig from our drinks. I lean back and stare at the ceiling for a sec. When I glance over at Jackson, he has his arm resting on the back of the couch, holding his head up while staring off into space, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. I take the chance to scope out his body again. The way his bicep bulges, again an exposed nipple, and his package looks barely contained by whatever he has on under his shorts.
I say, "I dunno if I've ever seen you this relaxed Jackson." I can feel the weed and cider slowly having a nice mild affect.
He brings his head around to me, and seems to come back to Earth, "I don't wanna make waves at work, so I try to be as low key as possible. All those team building exercises and trying to force us to be all buddy buddy wear me out... y'know what I mean?"
"totally man," I reply a bit groggily. I scoot down the sofa a little to get comfortable, and put my hands behind my head.
Jackson drinks from his beer, and seems to settle in, "So anyway. Can you tell me anything about stripping? I mean, I've been to strip clubs, and gotten a lap dance or two from a chick. Are gay strip clubs different?"