Overpowered

By Scott Cameron

Published on Feb 28, 2008

Gay

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Please send your comments to scooter_fiction@yahoo.ca

Disclaimer: The following story contains graphic sexual language and actions between males. If material of this nature offends you, or it is illegal in your jurisdiction for you to view it, DO NOT READ any further. This is a work of fiction and any similarity between real people or events is purely coincidental. As this is fiction, safe sex practices are not always followed by the characters, but should be by you.

The sun beat down, and Mike could feel it in every nerve of his tanned, sculpted body. His skin tingled with the heat, and although he had put on sunscreen earlier, for this one moment he didn't care about ultraviolet radiation. He just wanted to feel the heat like an electric current through his body. Beneath him he could feel the webbing of the lounge chair supporting his frame. Below that the water lapped at the rocks under the dock, a peaceful sound of life, random yet regular, that touched something deep in his being.

He was lying on the dock of his cottage, looking out over the blue water at the sailboats and windsurfers gliding in the distance. His grandparents had bought this place in Manitoba 30 years earlier, when you could only reach it by train. His parents had expanded the cabin and joined it to the new highway, and they had given it to Mike when he turned 21. Two years later he spent as much time as he could here during the summer, upgrading the cabin and clearing underbrush, but mostly enjoying the peace away from his hectic new career as a financial analyst. There were lots of cottages on the lake, but forest between him and the neighbours, and their dock was unseen around a point. The solitude suited him.

Looking down across his broad pecs, over a tight, rippled midsection, down legs thick with muscle, he smiled at the work he had done. Unlike most guys, who leave high school in great shape and leave college overweight from too much beer and too little activity, Mike had done the opposite. In high school he was flabby and weak, spending his life in front of video screens and ignoring the team sports that could have brought him outside. But he had also come to realize that his sexual preference turned to men, not the girls his friends battled over. So when his small mid-western college wanted to appear healthy and progressive, he took advantage of the free personal training sessions, mostly to hang out in the gym and stare at the fit guys. His trainer was the most beautiful man Mike had ever seen, and for two years he showed up just to stare up that heavily-muscled body while doing chest presses. Doug was straight, and if he knew of Mike's desire he ignored it. He went off to get married, but Mike was hooked on his new body, and in the years since had developed it to perfection.

He trailed his fingers lightly down his chest, hesitated for a time on his rippled abs, teased himself by avoiding the growing bulge in his black, square-cut boxers, and traced down his legs. The tickling of his fingers, the breeze, and the heat of the sun were arousing him, and he could feel his balls churning as his cock thickened and swelled. Finally he let his fingers run up the tight material, over his shaft, and the sensation was incredible. He actually bucked up on the chair, arching his back like a cat.

As he thought about going inside to relieve his swelled prick he heard the sound of the water change, and looked to his right. A windsurfer was coming down the shore, heading past Mike's dock. The sailer was clearly new to this, struggling to maintain his balance in the shifting onshore breeze. Mike wasn't paying attention to his skills, though; the kid was gorgeous. He looked 18 or 19, with shoulder-length blond hair wet from too many tumbles in the lake. He wore a shorty, a wet suit that ended above his elbows and knees, that clung to the outline of a solid, toned body. This guy plays hard, Mike thought, swimming maybe, probably football or rugby. His face caused Mike to stare shamelessly - deep-set blue eyes, a chiseled nose, full lips and prominent chin. Mike wanted to put his hands on each side of that face and kiss it, long and hard. Looking down as the kid arched back to regain his balance, Mike saw a significant bulge in the suit, pointing upwards above his nuts.

As he approached Mike's dock the sail was pulled from his grasp again, and fell into the water. The kid sat down heavily on the board, tired and clearly frustrated.

"Hey dude," Mike called out, "looks like the wind is getting the better of you."

"I was doing okay for a while," replied the blond, "but the wind is so gusty."

"I think you're just getting tired. Then you can't balance, and then you get frustrated, and then it feels like you've forgotten how to sail. I've been there," he said, indicating his own board beside the dock. "Where's your cottage?"

The kid pointed across the lake in the direction of the oncoming wind.

"Guess I shouldn't have started out downwind," he grunted.

"Look, you need a break. Join me for a beer, and then I'll run you across the lake," Mike said, gesturing to his outboard.

"I can't imagine anything better than a cold beer right now" was the reply, as the kid pulled his tall frame up onto the dock and tied the board.

"I can," thought Mike, then stretching out his hand, "I'm Mike."

"Tony," said the kid, offering his own hand. When they touched Mike nearly jumped. Something about this kid made him feel weak. Shit, thought Mike, I don't normally get all woozy over a cute face. Normally he didn't even go for younger guys. But Tony was carrying around a layer of heat that Mike could feel, even on this sunny day.

"You don't look like a Tony. I thought Tony's were Italian and had dark hair," he stammered awkwardly.

"My parents loved the TV show `Who's the Boss'. They were watching it when they, you know, when I was made. So I got named after the main character."

"Wow, that is so 80's," said Mike. He felt like he couldn't put words together properly.

"Can I use your bathroom? I have to pee something bad."

"Hey, it's the cottage," said Mike, "pick any bush you like."

"Cool. Can you help me with the wetsuit?"

Tony unzipped the suit down the front, and got the shoulders peeled down, but then couldn't get his arms out of the sleeves because they were both trapped by the material. MIke moved behind him and pulled the stretchy fabric down. He nearly drooled eyeing the kid's broad shoulders, sculpted back muscles, and beautiful `V' narrowing to a slender waist. Mike's swelled cock brushed against the kid's ass, but either Tony didn't mind or he liked it - he sure as hell felt it. As he pulled the material down Mike dropped to his knees and found himself eye level with the most beautiful bubble butt he had ever seen, this close anyway. The kid's ass, still encased in the suit, was perfection; tight, rounded, wanting to be grabbed with both hands. As the material came down over the glutes it revealed a very tight spandex bathing suit underneath, black, and doing an even better job of shaping the perfect globes before him than the wetsuit had.

"Woah," said Mike. The heat grew again. He was sweating now, as if this kid were putting off waves of energy.

Assuming he was referring to the suit, Tony replied, "It's my old school racing suit. Pretty skimpy I know, but it's the only thing that will fit under the wetsuit. And my brother would be pissed if I went commando in his suit."

Mike succeeded in getting the wetsuit down, and the kid stepped out of it. He was an incredible sight in that form-fitting material; tanned, glistening with moisture, not as muscular as Mike but toned to perfection, every curve fitting together like he'd been sculpted by a master. Which I guess he was, thought Mike.

"Hey man, stop staring, you're making me blush." Mike realized that he WAS staring, blatantly, and he wasn't at all sure that he could stop. He also realized that he was carrying around major wood, not something he normally did in front of strangers.

"Sorry dude, you're just quite a sight. How did you get to the front of the line when they were handing out looks?"

"Oh PLEASE," pleaded Tony, "enough already. I really have to piss."

"Me too, I'll join you," said Mike.

The two men walked off the dock and a few feet into the forest, just enough to be hidden from the lake. Mike pulled down his boxer briefs and drew out his half-stiff cock, then let the stream of piss pour over a small shrub. Tony stood to one side and did the same. The kid was as well hung as he had appeared in the wetsuit, Mike noticed, and when he finished and pulled the suit back over his meat, he glanced up to see Mike staring.

"Let's go grab that beer," Mike said, heading towards the cabin and breaking the tension.

The cottage was typical of those on the lake, single story and simply built, pine from the surrounding forest used extensively in the building and the furniture. Mike's parents had opened up the ceiling so the roof timbers and beams were exposed, making the place feel bigger than it actually was. There was one bedroom in the back (as a kid Mike had slept in the bunkie behind this cabin) and considerable square footage devoted to the large wrap-around porch. They headed to the kitchen, which was separated from the main room by a breakfast bar. Handing Tony a beer, they settled down on the well-worn couch. At the opposite end, a few feet apart, Mike started feeling those waves of - what? Heat? Pheromones? Magnetism? He wasn't sure what to call it, but it was hitting him like he'd had a dozen beers, and making his cock rise to attention uncontrollably.

Mike stared into the younger man's eyes, now locked on his, and knew what they both wanted. He reached over and started running his hand up the calf muscle, feeling the perfect shape. Moving closer he felt like he was drowning in the kid's energy. There was absolutely nothing he could do to stop, and looking up he realized suddenly that Tony knew it. There was a slight smirk on his face, the knowledge that this had happened before, that he had this power over other guys and that he was going to get whatever the hell he wanted. Wordlessly he indicated with his head slightly, and Mike felt his body moving, kneeling on the floor between the tanned thighs, as if he wasn't in control. His mouth moved to the blond's nipples, and his tongue teased them. The kid moaned a deep, guttural sound that meant animal lust in its purest form. Mike's tongue inched downward, over the ripples of the abs, teased around the navel, found the treasure trail and followed it to the top of the racing suit. He licked the big balls through the suit, and felt the thick cock lengthen and strain against the material. He slurped at the cock, pulling it into his mouth as far as he could.

"Fuck yeah," said Tony, "you want my cock don't you? You want it more than anything you've ever wanted. You want this meat in your throat, in your ass, anywhere you can get it."

Mike realized that he was right - he was craving this kid's dick, as if he would suffocate without it. He teetered between the panic of feeling out of control and the all-consuming desire to be near this beautiful, perfect body.

"Get up, let me see your dick," said Tony.

Mike stood, and realized that his black briefs were absolutely soaked with pre-cum. Never had he spewed out so much lube so fast. Tony pulled the willing crotch toward him, and slurped up the nectar. He sucked the treat like he was desperate for it. Mike felt stoned, high on this kid's scent. His cock felt like it was harder than it had ever been before, and when Tony pulled down the sopping material his dick snapped straight out. Tony sucked it down, deep-throating the older stud's prick until he was able to lap at his balls. He fucked his mouth over the straining cock, and Mike nearly passed out from the combination of the teen's weird energy waves and the pleasure he was receiving.

"Lie down," commanded Tony, getting up from the couch. Mike lay on his back, his head on the padded arm rest, and the kid peeled off his Speedo to reveal a cock that rivalled his perfect body. It was at least 7 inches long, straight and thick, with pink veins running down the length. It was hard as a board, cut, the head darker and prominent. Two large balls hung below, churning with cum. Tony aimed the head at Mike's mouth, and slowly, slowly sunk the length of that mighty cock in. The angle of his head allowed Mike to suck it all the way down, taking more cock than he ever had. He felt totally filled with teenage meat, totally subservient to the prick holding him captive. His own cock continued spewing pre-cum in rivers, running down the shaft and over his balls, continuing down over his ass, lubricating his butt as he writhed in pleasure. Tony fucked his face, pulling out and then pressing back in, leaving Mike feeling like a cock-sucking machine. His head was spinning.

Tony pulled his cock out, and held it over Mike's mouth. He milked down the shaft with his hand, and a wave of his own pre-cum flowed out and poured into the hungry mouth. Mike felt that he had never tasted anything so incredible. He reached back and pulled the tight ass closer, letting his tongue reach the kid's nuts. He lapped at them like a man possessed, unable to control himself, wanting nothing but hard, sweaty sex with this Adonis.

Tony moved to the front of the couch and grabbed Mike's legs. Swinging him around, he crouched down and plowed his tongue into the sopping ass in front of him. Mike's lube flowed down, and Tony lapped it up, driving his tongue further into the tight hole. Mike hovered on a new wave of intense pleasure, feeling this stud working out his ass. It occurred to him, as in a dream, that he should have shot off twice already from the intensity of the experience, yet he was being held back by something. He wondered if Tony was in control of that, too. Tony raised himself up and positioned his cock at Mike's ass. Once more he milked out a stream of pre-cum and used it to further lubricate the hole for his entrance. Mike was at once petrified and unable to resist. His few experiences with guys had always been on top. Before now he had never wanted his ass fucked, but now, with this teenage stud, he wanted nothing else. The need to have this cock inside him made him squirm and writhe against the arms holding him down. When he felt the head probing his ring he hovered on the verge of passing out from lust. Then it was in, guided by the heavy lube flow, further and further, sliding up his tunnel. When Tony bottomed out and Mike felt their thighs touch he cried out "fuck yeah", not in pain but in total abandon. He had forgotten where he was, what time it was, who he was. When Tony started fucking in and out, ramming that straight, hard shaft to the hilt and back again, Mike could feel it in his entire body. Covered in sweat and cock juice, he fucked back against the powerful thighs ramming into him. He flexed his powerful legs, lifting his ass up to meet the balls slapping against him. Both men grunted and thrashed, pounding into one another, eyes locked, both out of control. Tony leaned down and their mouths mashed together. Mike's tongue darted out to connect with the other, and for several minutes they were a blur of muscle, sweat, and desire.

Mike felt his orgasm approaching like a storm rolling in. Where he had always felt the sensation in his groin, now he felt it in his entire body. Once again the panic, like running off the edge of a cliff, mingled with an insatiable craving. He couldn't stop this even if he wanted to. When he passed the point of no return, his body a glistening mass of muscle dedicated to a single purpose, a cry of exhilaration grew until he was yelling out his passion. At the last moment he grabbed his cock, and was shocked to find it nearly doubled in thickness, and so hard it would barely move. He pointed the head at the sky as cum raced through the shaft and exploded out the end. Tony, leaning over as he rammed his cock home one last time, caught the first shot on his face like a blast from a fire hose. He opened his mouth wide and caught the second shot fully, gulping down the hot, creamy load. His own cock, fully driven up the hot ass beneath him, erupted in a torrent of teen spunk. He could feel it racing out the tip, filling Mike's gut. Shot after shot of hot cream flew from both men like their bodies were being drained. Cum started streaming out of Mike's ass, and poured over his chest from his own dying orgasm. In a daze he felt Tony fall off him, and then, his body sapped of energy, he passed out.

When he next opened his eyes Mike was still lying on his back, on the couch. He knew from the feeling of drying spunk that he'd been there for at least half an hour. His left arm had fallen asleep, pinned under some weight, and when he looked over he saw Tony. The teenager was still out, and Mike was shocked to realize that they had both become unconscious from the power of their orgasms. He thought back to the feeling of being drugged; to the incredible size of his hard cock and the flow of pre-cum, both way out of the ordinary; to the amount of cum that had raced from his body. He was covered in what felt like quarts of jis. He had more questions than answers. Who was this incredible stud lying next to him? What power did he hold over Mike? More than anything else, he wanted that feeling again. Everything else lost interest. He didn't want to go back to his job Monday, he just wanted to have raw, hard, explosive sex with Tony.

He imagined that when the kid was out of range the spell would pass, and he'd change his mind. But for right now, running his hands over the perfect ass lying next to him, staring at the cum-soaked face sleeping peacefully, he only wanted this.

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