Straight Buddy Ray

STRAIGHT BUDDY RAY: ANOTHER BEEFCAKE BARBEQUE

Following is a work of erotic fiction containing graphic sexual depictions. All characters are the creation of the author and any similarity between a living or deceased person is purely coincidental. The author requests that you respect his copyright.

May 2010 JRoyale

Clutching the morning's first mug of coffee, Jon Kingston stepped out onto the front porch of his New Jersey home. Like the rest of the houses fronting on Mansgrove Lane in that small coastal burg, it was a fairly large New England-style structure. When Kingston took possession of the place a few years back he'd done extensive internal renovations to modernize the place but wisely left the exterior mostly intact. Just a fresh paint job, a few replaced shutters, gutters, new roof and the place looked much as it had close to ninety years ago when first erected. Kingston was especially partial to the expansive covered veranda which wrapped around the front and both sides of the solid dwelling. Lush green ivy crawled up the lattice-work on all corners of the veranda while window boxes burst with bright and vibrant colored flowers. Multiple hanging baskets spilled their own spectacular arrangements, adding to the homey atmosphere. Jon spent many an hour relaxing out there in the comfortable hammock he'd hung in one corner or lounging on one of the several wicker chairs placed about the porch. From there he had a bird's eye view of the goings on up and down the quiet street. It was a friendly neighborhood; other residents often stopped by to admire the flowers, sit for a spell and chat while enjoying a cup of coffee, iced tea or a martini---depending upon the time of day---with the good looking mature man who'd taken over the Davidson home.

When old Hilda Davidson perished after an unfortunate fall from an upstairs window the place laid vacant except for infrequent visits from her only surviving relative, a son, Brandon. Initially Brandon wished to hold onto the family homestead but, following divorce, Brandon's life took a distinctive turn. He no longer had need of the place. Before the freshly emancipated man could even place it on the market, Kingston stepped in and offered to buy. The two men arrived at a mutually agreeable price and Mansgrove Lane acquired a new---and familiar---resident.

It wasn't as if Big Jon ever had a burning desire to possess his own acreage. The very idea of yard work and general upkeep was not something had ever interested a self-absorbed playboy like himself. The townhouse he'd owned for years suited his flighty lifestyle best. He never had any real interest in becoming part of a community. That was something better left to others.

Smiling lop-sidedly as he plopped down into the cushions of his favorite fan-backed chair and lifted his long, muscular legs to the top of the table in front of him, Jon marveled at how abruptly his attitudes changed over the past few years. He loved his home; he loved being at home. Those days---and long nights---of carousing were long over. Instead of hanging out at some loud crowded night club, ultimately picking up pussy or ass, he'd much rather be ensconced in his tastefully decorated living room with a glass of chilled wine listening to music wafting from the expensive stereo while candles flickered their romantic glow about the place. He supposed it had something to do with his age. Although still physically fit and appearing much younger than his years, there was no sense denying he was well past his prime. At fifty-six he still maintained a youthful stamina, had a strong sexual drive and could attract members of both sexes with his good looks, charming personality and muscular body. But Kingston had spent most of his life dipping his unconscionable cock in one place or another---and all it ever got him were a few moments of sexual gratification. He had loved sex. Craved it. Still did, in fact. But not as a dalliance. Sex without emotional attachment meant very little to him anymore. And he knew the reason had everything to do with his straight buddy, Ray.

His was a gradual metamorphosis. Curiously, fucking Bonnie one night and then Brian less than sixteen hours later left him with a slightly nauseated feeling. It was nothing physical; it all had more to do with the personal demons playing about in his head. Frightened at first that it was a precursor to the unstoppable onslaught of age, big Jon eventually came to realize that his emotional discomfort ran much deeper. Casual pick-ups no longer held that old fascination for him. Waking up alone---albeit sexually satisfied----left him with a gnawing emptiness. Ultimately he determined to change his errant ways. Not that he ever intended to become celibate. Hell no! He was still an extremely virile man with a strong sex drive---and probably always would be. But he wanted something more substantial. Perhaps not the total, all-encompassing commitment---at least not yet. But he wanted (dare he admit it)....a meaningful relationship based on trust, affection and admiration. Whether his potential partner was female or male didn't particularly concern Jon. It was the quality of the relationship which mattered most to him now.

At first it proved to be tough going. Jon likened it to the time he'd quit cigarettes (and, with the cost of the damned things these days, it was a good thing he had abandoned that particular habit). Tobacco withdrawal had been a real bitch-and-a-fucking-half! For this, there was no pill, patch or any remedy could quell the beast within him. In the end it all proved to be a simple---and yet, not so simple---matter of will. Sure he fucked up. Fucked up a lot! There was that blonde and bronzed straight lifeguard on Wildwood Beach who gave him a nice, hearty fuck. And then the father of three, maybe four, toddlers he did in the Menlo Mall public restroom while mommy unwittingly attended to the kiddies. In this instance it was daddy who had taken the fast, torrid fuck. There was the gorgeous, sexually confused 21-year-old out for her first legal drink at the alternative dance club, the Coliseum. Jon firmly believed after the time he gave her she'd never think of munching pussy again. Among these were other occasional setbacks in his seemingly difficult quest for sexual sobriety. Each new conquest spoke of his own horrible failings until, just as with the Marlboros, he surmised the only way to tame the beast was to abruptly cease his narcissistic actions.

Taking a sip from the steaming mug Jon looked out over the rim at the big house across the street---the Giagianno home. It was the sole reason he had initially purchased the Davidson house, because of its close proximity to the Giagianno homestead. The master of the house, hot and hunky Ray Giagianno proved to be the single catalyst for the alterations in his playboy lifestyle. Ray became the apple of Kingston's eye from the moment he spotted the then-sixteen-year-old pushing shopping carts in the local supermarket parking lot. Through some quirk of fate their paths crossed numerous times over the years and a sort of male bonding developed. Granted, Ray was some fifteen years younger than him but the difference in age hardly seemed to matter. Only after several years of friendship did they become heated fuck buddies, pleasurably remaining that way for quite a while.

Not long enough, Jon thought as he rearranged his bare legs and absently groped the bulge growing in the front of his low-slung cotton shorts. Just thinking about hot, macho Ray always had the same effect on him. Ray was a manly, aggressive fucker with an insatiable libido who brought an experienced man-slut like Jon to plateaus he'd never before attained, most dangerously within eye and ear shot of others. They'd enjoyed a torrid, highly satisfying fuck friendship right up until that fateful day when all hell broke loose.

When he first banged Ray's younger brother Joey Jon would never have guessed how things would ultimately turn out. In actuality, it was Joey who was the seducer---not Jon. In retrospect he supposed out of respect for Ray he should have exercised some restraint---for him, a great deal of restraint---and rebuffed the equally handsome and awesomely hung jock. Excuses aside, the bottom line was he had taken young and naive Joey like any other trick in the night, filling his head with suggestions and half-truths just to breach the formally straight virgin's asshole. He'd never anticipated Joey taking to cock as enthusiastically as he had, setting the stage for a catastrophic series of events which ultimately caused trouble for all.

It took a long while for Ray to forgive Jon---if, in fact, he actually had. He's surely been angry enough, answering Jon's disloyalty with a much-deserved punch to the jaw which sent the older man sprawling to the floor. Months passed before they spoke again, then several more before they met in social surroundings. Ultimately a sort of tentative understanding developed. Jon didn't learn until much later the part young Joey played in mending fences. Moving onto Mansgrove further aided in the repair of the relationship. They could hardly avoid each other without raising curiosity in Ray's wife and children, who adored their "uncle" Jon. Words eventually became conversations.

Jon couldn't recall a happier time in his life than the morning Ray came across the street for the first time and helped him with some outdoor repairs. It was the mark of a new beginning. They carefully avoided speaking about the thing which had created the distance. There were casual references to Javier, the sneaky Puerto Rican sonofabitch who'd been the real instigator of all the trouble. After his drug-related arrest at the hands of Officer Rick Parker a series of outstanding warrants turned up on the thug, almost guaranteeing that none of them would ever be bothered by the blackmailing convict again. The one thing Ray never made mention of was the special buddy relationship between his brother and Jon. It certainly bristled his ass hairs when, a short time later, Joey moved in with Jon after his marriage to frigid Tracy Kim (the real villain of the piece) fell completely apart. By that time, he supposed, Ray had come to terms with his brother's experimentation. After all, even though far from the sharpest cheese in the fridge, Joey was an adult fully capable of making his own decisions. As it was, Joey was actually little more than a boarder. After all that had happened Jon felt a twinge of remorse the few times they'd shared his king-sized bed, the mornings he'd fucked Joey over the kitchen counter or the evenings Joey rode his crotch while watching the Mets ball game.

Okay, so he wasn't exactly a saint himself. After all, who was it had purposely led Javier to the sleazy glory hole that night at the local strip club where cute, but adoringly dumb, Joey was servicing anonymous cock? Was quite a while afterwards when, amazingly, the light bulb brightened and Joey figured it all out. Jon was relieved the young hunk had kept that part of the story from his brother. Joey never let on about his antics down at Bud's Hut. Jon was grateful for that. Had Ray learned the full truth of his duplicity their relationship might have been irreparably damaged. Just as it would if Ray ever found out about that other time, two years later, with someone even dearer to him...

Jon supposed that bizarre gnawing he experienced in his gut every time he banged hell out of Joey was the start of it all. For the first time in his life he'd come to the realization that he really cared about someone else. And then there was the reality of how horribly he'd let that person down. Not Joey, but Ray. It was the disappointment he'd created which left Jon awake on many a night, providing him with the time to take closer examination of his life.

His life was certainly much better now---better than it ever had been. Fuckin'-A if he didn't resemble a real gentlemen these days. Once he stopped fucking around with every Tom, Jane and Larry and concentrated on the truly important things in life everything seemed to fall into place. Jon's sole surviving family member, his estranged mother, passed away after a short illness. Jon was pleasantly surprised to discover the old lady had made some wise investments over the course of her life and bequeathed him a great deal of money. An appreciative Jon was able to take an early retirement and truly enjoy his newfound lifestyle. Being a man of leisure didn't take a whole heck of a lot of getting used to. He spent a lot more time down at the gym toning his already impressive musculature, joined the local golf club and installed an in-ground pool in his spacious back yard where he and Ray joined forces on the landscaping. Jon's was an open house to all in the neighborhood and all agreed, next to the Giagiannos, he had the best party yard. In the spring and summer months, with flowers in full bloom, it was quite an eye piece. Soft music wafted from faux rock formations strategically placed amid flowering bushes and the soothing sound of running water constantly came from the ingenious waterfall Jon and Ray created. A ping pong table and basketball hoop provided entertainment and a small pool house provided shower and toilet facilities. More often than not Jon used the gas barbeque grill to cook his evening meal.

Sam Cleavons, the local post master from four doors down, tried to duplicate the effect in his own pool area more than likely, Jon mused, at the insistence of his wife. Laura Cleavons, age 46, desperately worked at maintaining a youthful image and had more than once made blatant sexual overtures toward Jon. Not that she wasn't fuckable. Jon would have liked to have shown her what a hard-bodied stud like himself could do as opposed to her overweight, jelly-bellied hubby. But, with a great deal of satisfaction, he refrained. It didn't stop Laura from trying and provided Jon with a welcome test of his new found resistance. And Sam's yard hadn't really turned out badly---it just lacked that special Ray/Jon touch.

Taking a final sip of coffee Jon stretched, breathed deeply of the fresh morning's air and absently scratched at his broad, bare chest. His blue eyes quickly darted to the right of the Giagianno house, caught by a sudden movement there. A wide smile broke his handsome, unshaven face and he raised an arm to wave to the hunkasaurous who stepped off his own front porch, briefcase in hand. The other man returned Jon's gesture of greeting and continued on his way to the silver Lexus parked in the drive. Bruce Yeary was the fortyish lawyer who'd recently purchased the old Stavros home next door to the Giagiannos. Elderly Mrs. Stavros just couldn't handle the chill Jersey winters anymore, so old Nikos put the place up for sale and moved himself and his long-time bride to Florida. Jon supposed it didn't hurt the sixty-five year-old Greek any that his favorite grandson, Petie, now resided in the sunshine state. The two of them had formed a very special relationship.

Bruce was a boyishly handsome recent divorcee who caught Jon's eye the first time he came to peruse the place with Carmelita, a local real-estate agent (and a real looker in her own right). Back in the old days, were Jon in Bruce's shoes, he'd have coerced her into a fuck right there in the abandoned house. Jon was over there in a flash, conveniently taking a stroll at the exact moment they exited the front door, introducing himself and extolling the many virtues of the neighborhood. Carmelita couldn't have done a better sell job herself. Bruce ended the meeting handing Carmelita a nice deposit and moved in to the house several weeks later.

Jon saw to it that he and Bruce became fast friends. In no time they were putting out at the golf course, spotting each other at the local gym and trading war stories (although Jon was careful to edit some of his more risqué tales). Disillusioned with the big city, Bruce hung his shingle at the space he'd rented right over on Main Street and looked forward to the small town life. Jon looked forward to learning more about the intelligent, good looking lawyer. He determined to go slow. This was about building a relationship, not just getting into another stud's slacks. He just hoped Ray, who'd also become friendly with his new neighbor, didn't get there first. Although Ray no longer bounced with him, big Jon was reasonably sure Ray's libido was being satisfied in places other than his own marriage bed. And who could blame him? Hadn't it been Jon himself who'd introduced both Giagianno brothers to the pleasures derived from fuck buddies?

After watching the tail lights of the Lexus disappear down the quiet street Jon lazily stretched his body, muscular arms extended over his head and legs stretched out over the coffee table and suddenly realized he was sporting three-quarters of a hard on. This restraint stuff was difficult shit! He didn't even bother to conceal it when he noticed Billy Norris, the sixteen-year-old newspaper boy meandering down the street on his bike tossing the Saturday edition one way and the other. The lad wouldn't be able to see his bulge from that distance anyway. Or could he?

"Mornin' Mr. Kingston," the good-natured, baseball-capped kid shouted in passing. Jon waved in return, his eyes fixed on the way the teen's shorts clung to his tight young ass cheeks. Two more years, he lasciviously thought, and Billy'd be ripe for the picking. Wouldn't it be sweet to help young Billy celebrate his eighteenth birthday with his dick planted right between those firm buns, just as he'd broken in another not all that long ago. Taking virgin ass was always something special.

And then, as if a pitcher of cold water had been dumped over his head, Jon jolted upright and quickly checked his thoughts. Those days of slam, bam, thank-you-Dan sex were finished. He must resist such carnal thoughts. The time in his life had come to move onward and upward. He had to focus all his thoughts on hunky Bruce, building a lasting relationship which would culminate in their eventual mating. But hell, he thought as he reached into his shorts and gave his now-full erection a loving squeeze, it didn't hurt to entertain a little fantasy every now and again.

Jon's big chest rose mightily as he took a deep breath of the fresh morning air and enjoyed the beginnings of a fine day. These nice ones in early August were the forerunners to the sweltering heat which could easily envelop the remainder of the month. Brucie-boy often went to the office for a few hours at the start of the weekend. Jon on the other hand, a man of total leisure, enjoyed relaxing on his veranda and watching the street action. It was a morning similar to this one August day six years ago when his friendship with Ray was still tentative. The day of Ray's annual barbeque was pleasant just like this but by afternoon had become a downright scorcher. Nary a single cloud blocked the blazing sun and humidity hung high in the air. Jon wasn't yet a resident of Mansgrove. In fact, it was one of the last times any of them were to see Brandon Davidson and his boys. Jon recalled being extremely grateful when he received the invitation---Ray's barbeques were always the best. Although a bit leery of the awkwardness of the situation, he chose to arrive fashionably late without a date . . . . .

The gathering was in full swing when Jon Kingston casually sauntered through the open gate into the Giagianno back yard. Hands thrust deep in the pockets of his butt-hugging chino shorts, he exuded a cavalier confidence he didn't exactly feel. Party goers were everywhere, casually conversing and laughing merrily, cocktail or beer can in hand while the children romped in the refreshing water of the swimming pool. Music wafted from speakers strategically hidden around the entire area, Van Halen's "Poundcake" now the featured tune. The aromatic scent of juicy burgers cooking on the grill hung heavy in the still and sticky mid-afternoon air. Jon's roving eyes instantly noted that most men were without shirts under the hot, unforgiving summer sun and a great many of the ladies wore little more on top than a bikini or light cotton halter. The display of flesh was tantalizingly abundant. Never one to buck the system, Jon quickly skinned himself of the pastel tank top he'd worn, tucking it like a colorful tail in the rear of his shorts and displayed his heavily muscled torso to full advantage.

Jon's eyes scanned the crowd behind dark mirrored glasses until he spotted the host exiting the rear door of the house with a tray in hand. His breath caught in his throat, just as it always did when presented with the awesome manliness of Ray Giagianno. Shirtless, as always, Ray was a perfect specimen of manhood with his powerful chest, sculpted pectorals, large brown man-tits, deeply-defined obliques and rippling abs. His arms were thick and strong with massive forearms complimenting rock-solid mounds of bicep muscle. His upper body was smooth save for a small patch of manly hair in the crevice of his pectoral cleavage, thick tufts poking out from his armpits and the delicious swirl around his indented navel. Navy blue surfer's trunks hung down to his knees and drooped low on his shapely hips, deliciously displaying the jut of his tight buttocks, the corded V of classic oblique musculature and that inviting treasure trail leading to the thicker bush, just barely peeking over the waist line of the suit. Jon was momentarily struck dumb by the mouth-watering vision of which he'd been robbed the past few months and the bulge in his crotch grew noticeably fuller.

The sweltering heat hit Ray full force as he exited the cool air conditioning carrying a fresh tray of hamburger patties to grill up for the hungry crowd. As always, they had a good turn out. And why not? The booze flowed freely, there was enough food to feed a small army, the company was pleasant and there was always the enticement of a cool swim on such a hot day. Two of the guests had already been tossed fully clothed into the pool---not that they minded all that much. He was certain many more would end up the same way before the day was over. Most of his immediate family and in-laws were present, as well as a good cross-section of the Giagianno's mutual friends and neighbors.

"Hey, Ray, you gonna get more of them burgers grilled up or what?" Cathy's jovial father shouted good-naturedly from his seat under an umbrella on the porch deck.

A wide smile spread across Ray's handsome face, revealing even white teeth and deepening the dimples to either side. "I've got three comin' up just for you," Ray replied, making light of Padric's meaty body.

"You just keep cookin', boy. You're gettin' better at it," Padric shot back and took another swig of his beer. Ray was a good guy; no father could have asked better for his daughter, although in the beginning Paddy had been a little skeptical about the difference in their ages. Seven years younger than Cathy, Ray was practically still a kid himself when they first hooked up. But the teen soon proved to display a maturity well beyond his years, was a damned good provider and ultimately became an admirable father to his own children. All of Paddy's old-school prejudices about the Latino heritage were soon dispelled as he began to think of Ray as his own son. Paddy already had a boy, but that one was a bad seed and disappointment to all.

Descending the three steps into the yard with tray balanced in his beefy hand Ray casually glanced to his right, then did a complete double-take when he recognized the bare-chested man making his way up the stone path through the crowd. There was a second's hesitation, perhaps a skip in his pulse at seeing his one-time best bud Jon, and then it was gone.

He face broke in that broad smile again, hazel eyes twinkling as he balanced the tray on one hand and firmly took hold of Jon's paw with the other.

"Dad!" he exclaimed loudly and cheerfully. "Glad you could make it."

A warm feeling enveloped Jon. "Dad" was a pet name Ray had given him a long time ago, a reminder of their vast difference in ages. He certainly hadn't heard that in recent months, not since the Joey business began.

"Wouldn't be any other place," Jon replied sincerely.

Any further conversation was interrupted by a shrill "JON!" coming from somewhere in the crowd and shortly Cathy Giagianno bounded into view, headed for him with outstretched arms.

Ray leaned closer to his ear and whispered, "She's already shit faced and it's only been a couple hours."

Ray's body was warm next to Jon and the older man gave a voluntary inward sigh. He could smell the maleness emanating from the ethnic hunk's near-naked body, could almost see down the front of his trunks, could feel the hot, sweet breath against the nape of his neck. And then Cathy was on him, throwing her arms over his shoulders and knocking him back a step.

"I'm so glad you're here," she intoned shrilly, planting a big warm kiss on his cheek. Then, taking his hand, she forcibly pulled him away. "C'mon, le's get you a drink."

Ray gave him a knowing wink and proceeded to fight his way through family and friends to resume his position at the large gas grill. During the summer months the trusty Sunbeam model was the source of most of the family's meals. Cathy hated heating up the kitchen any more than was necessary, although the way she was carrying on today his wife appeared non-plussed by the overwhelming heat. It actually was good to see her this way. It had been a long road to recovery after the hysterectomy had drastically altered her hormones.

Ray slapped an even dozen patties onto the heated grill, then reached into the cooler beside him for a package of hot dogs. As if on cue five-year-old Caitlin, fresh from the swimming pool and dripping water, slapped him on the thigh shouting, "Daddy, I wanna hock dog."

"You're gonna have to wait 'til they're done cooking," he replied, but Caitlin was already running back to join the other kids in the pool.

Lowering the grill cover Ray's smoldering hazel eyes rested upon his wife shoving some frozen concoction into Jon's accepting hand. He watched as the muscular middle aged man took a healthy swallow of the stuff which Ray knew to be heavily laced with tequila, rum or whatever in heck Cathy had chosen to free pour. He watched interestedly as Jon gave a friendly slap to the shoulder of Cathy's father and shared some pleasantries with the older man. Sharyn, Ray's troublesome sister, came out of the house at that exact moment, her face registering exaggerated excitement as she threw her arms around the good-looking sonofabitch. Jon's big arms encircled Sharyn's trim waistline and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. If R.J., Ray's eldest son, had been around he'd probably have joined in the exuberant greeting; Jon was "uncle" to the sixteen-going-on-seventeen year old. Ray's thick brow suddenly knitted and he scanned the yard for the boy, not certain where R.J. and his buds had gone off to. Little worry, though. R.J. was a good kid and could take care of himself.

Yes indeed, Jon Kingston was a permanent fixture with the entire Giagianno clan. He had a charming, devil-may-care manner about him that easily endeared him to others. Although Ray knew almost from the get-go that the man who cruised him at the supermarket parking lot when he was just sixteen played the AC/DC card, he'd readily accepted Jon's offer of friendship. It wasn't until years later that he allowed the muscle hunk to sample his abundant goods---and he'd never regretted taking their relationship to that new level. They'd had some pretty good times, in and out of the sack. Jon was always there for the family in good times and bad. He never forgot one of the kid's birthdays, although Ray thought his gifts were oft times too extravagant. He was sympathetic to Cathy's plight during her fight back after the hysterectomy. He might be a shit with the revolving door of men and women in his life, but Jon always seemed loyal to the Giagiannos.

That is precisely why Ray was incensed when he learned about Jon's "special" relationship with his brother, Joey. All this time Jon had been kicking it to the naive younger man and kept their relationship secret from Ray. To make matters even worse, he embellished on the truth, convincing Joey that his older brother was much more adventurous than he actually was---all to get into Joey's virgin ass hole. Incensed with fury and betrayal, Ray had high-tailed it over to Jon's and gotten in one good punch, knocking the cock sucker to the floor. He should have thrown a few more, messed up the older man's good looks a little, for taking advantage of Joey the way he had.

It wasn't until later, when he'd calmed down a bit, that Ray learned the full story. Jon hadn't been the one to reveal that he and Joey's idolized big brother were fuck buddies; Joey had found that out all on his own. Seemed that he'd caught them red handed out in the garage where Ray was dicking Jon up the ass in the back of his classic Mustang. In retrospect, Ray couldn't actually blame anyone but himself. He was never careful about where he got his rocks off. It actually heightened his arousal to make it in places where discovery was a danger. In this case Joey had walked in at the wrong time and gotten himself more than an eyeful. And the young man hadn't made a hasty retreat; instead he made himself inconspicuous and watched the whole interlude. Joey confessed how he'd popped wood the instant he saw them together and how it turned him on to see Ray banging fuck out of his best friend. Ray's jaw went slack when Joey boasted of hauling out his own Giagianno meat and beating off while he observed their raunchy mating ritual.

To be fair, Joey's initiation wasn't entirely Jon's fault either. Deciding what was good for his brother was good for him, Joey practically laid in wait for his chance with the older man. The family was away on vacation, Jon was keeping a daily eye on the house and Joey had his own key. One afternoon he let himself inside, crept up the stairs and discovered Jon buck naked sprawled across the bed sniffing Ray's soiled jock strap and beating his meat. Jon tried to smooth talk his way out of the situation, but when Joey revealed what he'd witnessed in the garage a few days before, Kingston had little choice to to explain how he and Ray were fuck buddies taking care of each other's manly needs. Joey had lots of needs of his own. A healthy nineteen-year-old buck, he wasn't getting anything from his pristine girl friend and his testosterone was running rampant. In a flash he was up on the bed, straddling Jon's bare chest and plunging his hard cock down his brother's friend's throat.

Jon could have resisted, thrown Joey off, gathered his clothes and gotten hell out of there. But he didn't. And Ray could hardly blame him. Joey was a good looking boy, a real built jock stud. He came to realize that Jon had actually done Joey a service. The kid was going crazy from lack of getting off and beating his meat wasn't cutting it anymore. Ray knew how that was; wasn't a day he could go without getting some. In his sometimes questionable reasoning the kid was trying to do the right thing and not fuck around on his little girl friend. But knowing that his older brother found buddy sex acceptable, Joey thought he'd found the solution to his own dilemma. And that solution was Jon Kingston.

Ray came to accept that part rather easily; what followed took a much longer time. Not satisfied with merely sucking Joey's cock, Jon just had to make a move on the kid's up-until-then virgin ass hole. He told a blatant lie, convincing Joey that Ray often laid back and took a dick like a man. Eager to be every bit the man his brother was, Joey allowed Jon to breach his bung hole. Having taken complete advantage of Joey's lack of smarts, Jon got exactly what he wanted from the nineteen-year-old stud. Ray listened with masked horror as Joey revealed how fuckin' great it felt, how a dick up his ass touched something inside that made him feel like a Fourth of July celebration. Adoringly dumb Joey didn't know he'd discovered his prostate. Ray knew what it was, but didn't have any personal knowledge of his own. But, he had to admit, listening to Joey go on and on about it had made him a bit curious.

Jon made a sincere apology, realizing he'd done a smarmy thing in duping the young man. Ray, however, wasn't so quick to accept his words and kept his distance. Joey took the rift in their relationship personal and did his best to smooth things over between the two men. It took some time and a great deal of convincing, but Ray eventually reached the point of forgiveness. He still had a hard time thinking about his beloved younger brother, the kid he'd practically raised, seeking sexual release from his own stable of fuck buddies. Every time he saw his brother with another male, even engaging in the most casual of conversation, he wondered if that was the one dicking him. He couldn't shake the thought of the normally macho jock laying on his back, beefy legs raised and offering his juicy ass hole to another man. And each time he thought about it he found himself sporting a guilty erection.

"You gonna burn them sumbitches!" a deep, gravely voice broke his reverie. The newcomer slapped him on the back and thrust out a big, working man's hand.

"Sammy, when the fuck did you get here?" he grinned good naturedly at the other man.

"Couple minutes ago, buddy," Sammy Smithfield announced jovially. "You better flip them burgers, man or they's gonna be charred through an' through."

Ray knew he'd been deep in thought and neglected his chef duties. Raising the lid of the grill and attending to the patties, he remarked, "Didn't think you were gonna show up."

"Free food, free booze. What, I'm gonna pass up somethin' like that?" Sammy took him by the back of the head and ruffled Ray's thick hair.

Sammy Smithfield was master mechanic down at the auto dealership where Ray worked a nine to five. He was a short guy with a bull dog's face and a mean scowl when crossed, but those who knew him best weren't intimidated. Sammy was a teddy bear. What he lacked in height he more than made up for in impressive muscularity. In his earlier days Sammy had been a wrestling contender and, even now at thirty-eight, could easily pass for one of the professionals in the world wrestling federation. Donning a worn tank top with the logo of his favorite gym, a multitude of intricate colorful tattoos were displayed up and down both arms, across his upper back and over both heaving pectorals. Ray doubted there was a fraction of skin uncovered on the man's strong arms. From having seen him shirtless in the shop, Ray knew more artwork was etched across his lower back. The bulging calves on his thick, squat legs also contained ink, although to a lesser degree than the rest of his body. Sammy kept his body clean shaven, a habit he'd picked up from his wrestling days, which allowed his tatts to be displayed to full advantage.

"You by yourself, man?" Ray inquired.

Sammy rolled his eyes, "Broke up with Darla last week, didn't you hear? She was a fuckin' cunt. Better off without her." Sammy didn't have the greatest track record with his long list of girl friends. He'd been married once, but the union lasted for less than two years. Since then he seemed to be hooking up with the wrong kind of woman over and over again. They were usually the type who took advantage of his good nature, milked him dry and then left him alone and broken hearted. Ray wondered how much Darla had taken the gullible guy for.

"Where's the wife?" Sammy asked as he accepted a burger, quickly slipping it into a bun, dousing it heavily with ketchup and taking a healthy bite of the juicy offering.

Ray looked up to the deck, but Cathy had moved on. "She's around here someplace. Shitfaced, already."

Sammy hooted and nearly spit out his bite of burger. "That's the idea, buddy. Think I'm gonna go off and find me a brew to wash down this burger. Good burger, by the way," he said with a wink.

"Alright, man," Ray smiled, giving Sammy a pat on the back. "Enjoy. Check out the big cooler on the deck. There should be lots of beer chillin' there, long as somebody's taken time to restock. If not, there's a keg over by the gazebo."

"Will do, good buddy," Sammy offered him a hand again. "Catch up with you later."

Ray watched him wander off toward the deck and shook his head in amazement as he observed the mass of tattoos over the exposed area of Sammy's upper back, nearly reaching up to the clean-shaven surface of the wrestler's head. He could never figure how anyone could endure those endless sessions sitting in an artist's chair while their body was pricked countless times by the needle creating designs which the recipient would have to live with forever. Ray had never personally been interested in having any artwork on his own body---and seriously doubted he ever would. Besides, his wife wasn't all that crazy about tattoos either. She often berated her jailbird brother over all the markings he had received over the years.

Flipping the cooked burgers onto a platter, Ray reached for a set of steel tongs and quickly plucked the wieners from the hot grill. It was quite uncomfortable standing this close to the fire on such an awfully hot day as the rivulets of sweat lazily dripping down the contoured surface of his naked torso attested. He figured this was the last batch he'd have to cook up for a while anyway. There were more than enough other food choices laid out on a long table in front of the deck: lasagna, baked beans, ribs, chicken and an assortment of salads. He killed the gas and took a few moments to scrape food residue from the bars of the grill. Later Cathy would be wanting him to toss a few baskets of steamers onto the fire; she had a passion for shell fish. Ray, himself, was more of a meat and potatoes man and never quite acquired a taste for the rubbery substance of the things.

As if she'd read his thoughts, Cathy came lolling up to him with a drunken smile plastered on her sweaty face. "Great party, huh, babe?" she slurred.

Ray grinned. "Sure looks like you're enjoying yourself."

Giggling, Cathy came up behind him, cupped his tight buttocks in the palms of her hands and pressed her body against his sweat-slick back. "Maybe if you're lucky you'll get to enjoy yourself a l'il bit later." She nibbled on the lobe of his ear, her margarita breath pleasantly assailing his nostrils.

Ray smiled widely, cognizant of the elder aunts and uncles gazing at the couple with knowing grins on their faces. He reached behind to take hold of his wife's abundant buttocks and replied, "Maybe you'd better slow down on the drinks or you'll be passed out before the afternoon is over."

Cathy giggled again and whispered conspiratorially in his ear, "It's iced tea for right now. But later on, I wanna try out some of those apple martinis your mother is sipping on."

"Ouch!" Ray winced. "You know what happens when you mix your liquor."

"Fuck it!" Cathy said, surprising her husband since she rarely used profanities. "I'm having more fun than I've had in a long time." Then, changing gears, "Where's RJ? My father wants to talk to him about somethin' or other."

"He's around somewhere. Don't worry. We got all afternoon and night for your Dad to bend his ear," Ray replied, not letting on that he'd also been curious as to his eldest son's whereabouts. Wasn't it just like teenagers to separate themselves from the elders---even at an outdoor barbeque. With a sudden slap to his ass, Cathy peeled herself away from her handsome husband and with a "Catch ya later, babe" was off for more socializing. Ray was pleased she was in such good spirits; it had been a long time in coming. Stepping away from the cooking area, he looked this way and then, craning his neck to see over the heads of the yard full of guests for a glimpse of his son. But RJ was nowhere to be found.

The fishing beach wasn't the most swinging place for the locals on this ultra hot afternoon. The water was far too warm for good fishing and the still air would have made for uncomfortable sun bathing. After the sun went down there might be the occasional beach stroller, but at this time of the afternoon there was no one to interrupt the frisky teen agers frolicking under the small boardwalk. Sheri Parker, daughter of the town's rough and tough policeman, was sprawled across a worn blanket covering the sand. Her short skirt was hiked up around her narrow waist. Bikini bottoms dangled from one dainty foot while ample breasts spilled free from the tiny bathing suit's top. RJ Giagianno was atop her, hands planted at either side of her body to support himself while he thrust his gigantic teen meat in and out of her moist pussy. Sheri's hands roamed all over RJ's solid chest and nicely muscled arms. RJ was the handsomest boy in school and probably the most popular. She would certainly liked to have been RJ's girl, but the young athlete wasn't interested in being saddled with one steady date. So Sheri took pleasure in the times she could satisfy the well-endowed youth's sexual hunger. Sheri loved to fuck---and RJ had the best pussy pleaser of all the boys she knew. It had to be every inch of a foot long and deliciously thick. When a girl got fucked by RJ's tremendous beef steak, she knew she'd been fucked!

Seated in the shadows under the boards and watching the coupling with wide-eyed wonder and incensed libidos were several of Sheri and RJ's class mates. Chucky Johnson, Sheri's boy friend of record, was positively drooling as he watched from his vantage point and stroked the erection blazing from his unzipped shorts. All the observers, in fact, were toying with their teen meat as they marveled at the way Sheri took that enviable piece of meat RJ repeatedly pumped into her. Chucky, who liked cock every bit as much as pussy, couldn't decide which he'd rather service---Sheri's twat or RJ's monster. To date he hadn't had a chance at the later, but Chucky had high hopes. Especially since learning that RJ was throwing it to Charlie Fitzpatrick, the school's known queer, presently sitting there right next to him.

Chucky shifted his attention to Charlie, a boy who'd undergone a metamorphosis since being taken under RJ's protective wing. In short order the kid had gone from being a geeky looking nerd to a normal teen age boy. Chucky and the others no longer selected Charlie last when picking teams; the kid had even developed some decent sports ability. Chucky's eyes cast downward and watched as Charlie beat his own dick and noted that the other boy's piece wasn't at all bad. He was fairly certain it wasn't thoughts of diving into Sheri's snatch that had Charlie all horned up; it had to be the naked sight of his main man RJ which had the former nerd hard and leaking. Sensing Chucky's eyes on him, Charlie looked over and offered his class mate a seemingly shy smile.

"You like this stuff, Charlie? Watching my Sheri get fucked?" Chucky teased him.

Charlie shook his head in agreement. "It's so hot watching RJ fuck her."

"Maybe there's hope for you yet, Charlie," another voice chimed in. It was Timmy Taylor, the porn aficionado of the group. For his young age, Timmy had amassed an amazing amount of fuck books and magazines which he freely shared with his buds. He was the one had taught them all about the pleasures of masturbation back when they'd reached puberty and regularly sponsored group circle jerks down by the creek. Much as he feared admitting it, lest he be branded queer by his peers, Timmy enjoyed taking a gander at RJ's naked cock during those sessions. While most of the other boys shot their loads thinking about prom queen Darla or head cheerleader Sheri, it was eyeing RJ's beefsteak that got Timmy off. Though certainly no slouch in the size department---he figured he was about average---Timmy would've killed to have a rod equal to the strong one growing from RJ's loins. Licking his lips lustfully, Timmy found himself agreeing with queer Charlie. It was hot as fuck watching RJ nail Sheri. How in hell the horny cheerleader managed to take every fucking inch of that huge salami was a wonder in itself. Timmy's eyes widened in wonder each time RJ bottomed out in the cutie's delectable snatch and found himself growing increasingly envious.

"Hey, Ray-J," he said. "Save some of that for us other guys."

RJ looked over at the teen with a smile on his handsome young face. His tight, youthfully muscular body gleamed with the sweat of his exertions in the sweltering heat. Beads of perspiration trickled down the ridge of his back, rode along the deep crack of his tight ass and nestled in the dark hairs coating his bloated ball sac. RJ shook his head from side to side like some sort of animal at bay to lose some of the sweat pouring down from his forehead and stinging his eyes, inadvertently spraying the other teens in the process. Instead of becoming annoyed, the boys only proceeded to stroke their shafts with even more fevered passion.

Although he'd liked to have remained in the saddle until he'd thoroughly pleasured himself, RJ didn't wish to appear too stingy. His buds were all horned up and ready for their own piece of sweet Sheri. Reluctantly, he drew his steamy member from the moist snatch and rolled off the girl. Resting a moment on his back beside her, he turned his head to Timmy and asked, "Well, stud, what are you waiting for?"

Timmy needed no further invitation. Scrambling over RJ's prone body he slipped in between Sheri's legs and easily sunk his seven inches into her toasty oven. Soon as he was ball's deep inside her Timmy threw back his head and emitted a deep sigh of satisfaction. Although he certainly had no problem getting pussy whenever he desired, Timmy also derived more pleasure fucking cunt along with his buds. And taking possession of the space previously occupied by golden boy RJ was certainly a bonus.

"Damn you, Ray-J," Timmy taunted. "You've made poor Sheri's snatch too loose with that big fuckin' hog of yours."

RJ propped himself up on his elbows beside the two, practically looking Timmy right in the face as he snickered, "Not my fault you got such a tiny weenie, Taylor."

"Next to you Farmer Dave's prize stallion is small," Timmy threw back at him good naturedly as he ground his pelvis against Sheri's warm spot.

"Whyn't you take her up the ass," Chucky piped in. "Sheri likes that, too!"

"That true, Sheri?" Timmy asked sweetly, looking down at the sex-struck girl. "You liked getting fucked up the ass?"

Sheri was too far gone to care where she got dick, just so long as she got it. And right now, after being pounded by RJ's gargantuan girth, she was barely feeling Timmy inside her. Quickly she agreed, "Oh, yes. Chucky almost always does me up the ass."

Smirking, Timmy glanced over at a red-faced Chucky. "Yeah, I'll just bet he does." Like the rest of the group, Timmy had known for a long while that Chucky was an equal opportunity fucker.

Taking Sheri by the hips, Timmy lifted and turned the girl around so that she was on all fours like a bitch in heat, her sweet shapely ass proudly thrust out to him. He rubbed his hands over the delicate flesh of her pink buttocks and felt his cock begin to throb with brand new anticipation. Spreading the soft mounds he located the tiny, quivering hole and prodded at it with the tip of one finger. Timmy had seen enough pictures of man dick shoved up tender ass hole, so he knew it was possible. Yet Timmy always wondered how in hell that tight, tiny opening managed to accommodate a blazing hard on.

"Here, you're gonna need this," Chucky told him as he reached into the pocket of his discarded shorts and tossed the other teen a small tube of lubricant.

"Damn, Chucky," Timmy chuckled, "you always carry this shit with you?"

Chucky smiled mischievously, "Hey, you never know."

Timmy uncapped the tube and squeezed an ample amount of the clear gel onto Sheri's puckered bung. After smearing it around the area, he pressed one finger against the wrinkled flesh and watched as it slid between the tight folds and invaded her bucking body. Having reached success with one, Timmy decided to go for two. With double digits in the girl's upturned ass he began to move them in and out, loosening the opening for the main event soon to follow. The more he finger fucked her, the hornier Timmy got. Without realizing it he was fisting his turgid member with his free hand while the other cork-screwed around in her tight butt.

By now RJ had lifted himself from beside them and scooted over to rest next to the other member of their group, Leon Taylor. No relation to Timmy, Leon was African American and RJ's biggest competition on the basketball court. He was also the only one to come close to RJ's genital size. His curved ebony cock, now jutting up and being lazily stroked by his pink paw, was less than three inches shy of RJ's massive foot long. Although Leon came from a poor background, lived in the shack part of town and barely scraped by in school, he and RJ were the best of friends. In fact, they were so close that Leon was the first RJ had confided in regarding his training of gay Charlie. Over the past few months they'd often played tag team up Charlie's more-than-accommodating ass hole. Charlie was certainly one lucky fruitcake, getting banged by the two biggest dicks in the entire student body. Sitting there now next to Leon, their arms occasionally grazing as they stroked their own cocks, RJ couldn't help stealing glances at Leon's black behemoth.

Fucking around with Charlie was one thing, but RJ could never totally confess the conflicting emotions he'd had since catching his butch father and muscle-hunk "uncle" engaged in heated man play. He found himself thinking about cock almost as much as---perhaps more than---he thought about pussy. While well versed in the pleasures obtained between the creamy thighs of the fairer sex, RJ was a mere novice when it came to what went on in private between two guys. He knew his dick wasn't all boned up and dripping just because of Timmy and Sheri's fuck fest; RJ was imagining what it would be like to drop down and take just one swipe of his wet tongue up that beautiful ebony stalk. Almost as if he'd read RJ's thoughts, Leon looked over to the other teen and gave him a wide, almost-knowing grin. Returning the smile, RJ quickly averted his eyes to the couple in front of them, lest Leon get wise to the fact that he'd been checking out his massive prick.

Sheri emitted a strangled sob when Timmy's cock head breached her anal portal. The other boys watched breathlessly as Timmy forced more and more of his teen meat inside her shitter. Sheri moaned and, miraculously, pushed her ass back against him until every inch of Timmy's meat had been gobbled up by her sweet tender asshole. Timmy molded himself against her body, his arms encircling her and squeezed her dangling breasts as he enjoyed the tremendous sensations the tight anal passage was delivering to his overly sensitive prick.

"Oh fuck, that's tight!" he muttered as his lips salivated along the nape of her shapely neck and his teeth nipped at the lobe of her ear.

"Just go easy on her," Chucky, the protective boyfriend managed to tear his eyes away from Charlie's queer cock to offer a warning. "Remember that's her ass hole you're fucking and not her pussy."

"I'm not likely to forget that," Timmy replied seductively as his hand traveled along one side of her shapely cheerleader's body. "You'll let me know if I'm hurtin' you, won't you, Sheri baby?"

"Ummmm," Sheri sighed. Her head rocked back on her shoulders and her eyes rolled heavenward as she felt the tip of Timmy's erection burrowing deep inside her bowels. She knew this wasn't the way it was supposed to be; a guy's penis belonged inside a girl's vagina. She couldn't figure out exactly why, but Chucky seemed to enjoy doing it this way. They'd first begun experimenting months ago until anal intercourse became natural for them. Sheri had been fucked up the ass so many times by Chucky's fat short one that she had little difficulty accepting anal invasion anymore. It wasn't that she got any special thrill out of it, but she knew it brought enormous pleasure to her lovers.

Managing to peel himself off Sheri's sweaty back Timmy took a position on his knees behind the girl. Grasping her firmly by the hips, he slowly pulled his cock from the gripping membranes of her rectum. He paused for a second before guiding the head back to her hole and stuffing it in more forcefully this time. Sheri felt a moment of pain as the teen stud's cock stretched through her sphincter and slid deep inside her. Timmy began rocking his hips back and forth, slowly at first, as he fucked her shit hole. It felt absolutely awesome to him. As knowledgeable as he was in the ways of sex, he'd never taken anyone's back door before. Maybe it was just because this was his first time, but Timmy found himself thinking that fucking ass was even better than pounding pussy.

RJ and Leon watched the coupling heatedly as they stroked their own cocks. RJ had two hands wrapped around his cockasaurous; Leon stroked with one and hefted his ball bag with the other. They were both filled with teen age wonder at the way Sheri had so easily accepted Timmy into her nether regions. Their friend was moving faster now, fucking her ass almost with the same ferocity as he would have fucked her twat---and Sheri was taking it like a real trouper. The scene was so damned hot---nearly as hot as the scorching summer day---that RJ thought he'd bust his nut any second now. His eyes wandered once again to the penis of the black teen right next to him and his green orbs widened considerably when he detected an ooze of pre-cum emanating from Leon's deep piss slit. Unconsciously he licked his lips, his taste buds yearned to learn if the youth's jizz tasted similar to his own raunchy nectar.

So caught up was he in his own reverie that he reacted with a start when Leon suddenly elbowed him in the side to gain RJ's attention. Momentarily confused, RJ followed the nod of his black buddy's head to the direction of the other two teens. A smile broke out over his handsome face when he realized what had caught Leon's attention. Charlie and Chucky were stroking cock for sure---but not their own. Charlie's fist was wrapped around Chucky's fatty, stroking it from head to base, and Chucky appeared only too happy to be returning the favor to RJ's protégé. They were so caught up in each other they hardly noticed they'd been found out. Leon gave RJ a wide toothy smile and RJ responded with a lopsided grin. Damn how he wished Leon might take a cue from those to, reach over to manhandle his foot long and give RJ a reason to grope the black youth's cock! But Leon's attention had already returned to the Timmy and Sheri coupling.

RJ didn't know where to look first. Timmy was really throwing it to Sheri now, fucking her ass for all he was worth and even causing her to whimper a bit. It sure was one hot session! But, then again, he could almost smell the sex oozing up from Leon's loins and could barely stop himself from stealing glances at his basketball buddy's rigid member being worked into a frenzy by the teen's gliding fist. And over on the other side of them, Chucky and Charlie were really getting into it now and didn't seem to care that anyone else knew. Chucky was stroking Charlie's cock and squeezing his smooth nuts in the palm of his hand while Charlie's fist flew up and down Chucky's teen beef. Suddenly Chucky's one hand darted out to grasp Charlie behind the neck to draw him close and their lips locked in a sloppy, hungry boy kiss.

RJ's heart quickened in his chest as he observed the two swapping spit, their tongues rolling around inside each other's mouth. He had to release his own cock, which was dancing around of its own accord, lest he shoot his load right there and then. Chucky was really mugging it up with Charlie, oblivious to the fact that his so-called girl friend was getting buggered right there in front of them. Charlie's hands were all over Chucky and Chucky was responding like a dog in heat. He took Charlie firmly behind the head and guided him downward toward his lap where Charlie swallowed the other teen's painful hard-on in one amazing gulp. Charlie's head began bobbing up and down, giving Chucky a blow job RJ was only all too familiar with.

"Hokay, Timmy, you done had enough for now." It was Leon's voice that diverted RJ's attention at that moment. "I's my turn now," the black youth announced as he got to his knees and moved over to the other two.

"Aw, c'mon, Leon. Just a little longer. I ain't had my nut yet," Timmy complained.

Leon gave Timmy a persistent nudge on the shoulder. "Time's up, white boy. You can have you some more later." Timmy reluctantly pulled his wang from Sheri's ass hole and fell over to the spot next to RJ recently vacated by Leon.

"Time to show you how a brutha fucks," Leon muttered as he momentarily contemplated which orifice to service. The folds of Sheri's pretty ass hole were gathering together and closing up. It looked mighty tempting to force them apart again and ravage them with his nine solid inches, but Leon was much more of a pussy lover. Taking hold of sweet Sheri, he turned her over onto her back and slipped in between her creamy thighs. His dark body was a striking contrast to her fragile pink skin, the visual almost enough to finish Timmy off right then and there. He was atop her, his arms enfolding her body in a lusty embrace. As his full Negroid lips met hers his hips bucked and his big black cock easily slid into her warm, moist vagina. Kissing her sensuously, Leon quickly fell into a steady fuck rhythm. It wasn't the first time he'd fucked her, wouldn't be the last, but Leon determined to derive every bit of pleasure from the pussy of the horny cheerleader.

"Holy fuck! Would ya look at that!" Timmy had just noticed what his other two buddies were up to. "Look at the way Charlie sucks on that cock!" It was true; Charlie was going to town on Chucky's chunk. His lips were fastened around the base of the thing and he was sucking away like there was no tomorrow. Every now and then he'd come up for air, swipe his tongue around the fat head and then stuff his face full once again. Poor Chucky was leaning back on his elbows, his head thrown back and his tongue practically dangling from the side of his mouth as Charlie worked him like a pro.

"Hey RJ," Timmy said, his eyes never leaving the other two, "Charlie takes it up the ass, right?"

RJ shrugged. "Well, yeah, sure. I mean, he's queer, right?"

"Well what the fuck," Timmy said, almost to himself, "one asshole's as good as the other." With that he grabbed for the lube tube, scrambled over to the other boys and positioned himself behind Charlie. Greasing up his already slick cock, he quickly lined it up with Charlie's bung hole and thrust himself in to the hilt. Charlie's moan was almost inaudible around the cock in his mouth, but he clearly had no intentions of fighting off Timmy.

"Fuck if this isn't pretty good," Timmy announced. "Now I know why you been hittin' it, RJ." The crack of his hand as he slapped one of Charlie's ass cheeks, then the other, split the still summer air. He was up on his haunches over the other boy, knees tucked into Charlie's sides as he fucked the boy like a rabid dog. Timmy was far more forceful with Charlie than he'd been with Sheri; he figured Charlie'd been fucked enough up the ass that he could take it.

RJ looked away from the three-some to observe Leon and Sheri passionately coupling, then back to the rutting boys with an overwhelming sensation of jealousy. More than anything he wanted to crawl over there and partake in the male fuck frenzy. He wanted to run his hands over the working muscles of their bodies, feel their rigid members as they slipped into mouths and ass holes. He wanted to taste the body of another boy, take a cock into his mouth and run his tongue over every fucking inch of it, feel it glide down his throat and fill him with its pungent nectar. He wanted male hands to caress his ass, finger his hole, tickle it with their tongues and invade him with their cocks. RJ wanted to experience all that he'd observed his father and "uncle" doing.

If his desire was so strong then why, he wondered, did he remain stubbornly routed to this spot under the boardwalk relegating himself to the position of interested observer?

There was no shortage of deliciously exotic male flesh cavorting around the crowded back yard of the Giagianno home. Jon Kingston's ravenous eyes were treated to a virtual side show of broad shoulders, deep chests, bulky thighs and promising baskets from both sides of the family---not to mention friends and neighbors. It was nearly an impossible feat for the sex-charged bisexual man to keep his hungry cock calmed in his sweaty shorts. He silently thanked the sweltering heat for the near absence of otherwise-obstructive clothing. All the men---even grandfatherly Nikos Stavros---were stripped down to their shorts, their torsos temptingly glistening with perspiration. And the women weren't all that modest in the uncomfortable heat, either. There was enough exposed tit cleavage to provide a pubescent teen with jerk-off fantasies to last a lifetime.

The smart ones were immersed in the pool, where a lively game of volleyball was in progress. Kingston decided he might as well join the others for a short while and wash some of the sweat from his husky body. Draining the last vestiges of his drink he kicked off flops and stripped off his shorts, depositing them on a nearby bench with the clothing of other swimmers. Clad in a midcut bikini, low on the hips and high on his thighs, Kingston slipped into the refreshing water. He gauged the temperature to be somewhere in the high-80s, not exactly ideal but certainly a relief from the oppressive mid-afternoon heat.

Fanning his big arms out across the ledge behind him, Kingston relaxed back and took in the game. Soon he was joined by an aunt of Cathy's, a friendly one he'd met on a few other occasions. Neither of them cared when they were splashed by an extremely aggressive volley ball player. Their conversation was light and pleasant and Jon was reasonably certain that, beneath her dark sunglasses, the Irish woman was intently observing his mounds of pectoral muscle visible above the rolling water.

Soon enough Jon found himself participating in the game, jumping for the ball and attempting to prevent it from landing in the water on his team's side of the net. It wasn't the easiest thing keeping his eye on the ball when there were so many healthy, wet male bodies to capture his attention. Dark skinned, full-lipped Latinos from Sonia Giagianno's side of the family and Italian hunks with their machismo and good looks from Raymond Senior's side made up the majority of the mostly-male players, with a splattering of fairer skinned, freckle-faced Irishmen representing Cathy's heritage. There was a hot Greek here, a sexy Anglo there and an ebony stud or two thrown in for good measure. Jon likened himself to a kid in a candy shop trying to decide which tasty morsel he'd like to sample first.

The ball spiked in his direction brought the matter at hand back into focus for the horny man. Realizing he'd misjudged the target, Jon pivoted backwards to make contact and found himself colliding with another team mate. They went down together under the water, Jon with his back atop another male body. Managing to resurface Jon shook his head, sending drops of water flying off into alternate directions and pressed his fingers to his eyes to clear them.

"Sorry, buddy," he said to the body now breaking the surface of the water. Jon's eyes flashed instant recognition. The handsome Italian hunk was the same one he'd lusted over a year or so back at another beefcake barbeque. He was a cousin, twice removed, to the Giagianno brothers---and a real Guido if there ever was one. He was a visitor from New York---Brooklyn or the Bronx, Jon couldn't exactly recall. He had short jet black hair, so dark it was nearly purple in certain light, spiked and jelled to perfection and still standing up strong even after the unexpected dunk. His eyebrows were obviously waxed into shape, screaming of the twenty-something-year old's metrosexuality and the brown eyes framed by suspiciously-dark lashes were the stuff of which bedroom dreams were made. The stud's body was gym toned and extremely male with nary a hair marring the curves and valleys of his musculature. There was no trail leading from his indented navel to the hidden recesses of his low-slung trunks, nor was there the slightest shadow under either succulent armpit.

"No harm done, sir," the sexy hunk replied, his sweet breath washing over Jon's face.

"Jon," he offered, thrusting out his hand.

"I know," the Guido said, taking Jon's hand in a surprisingly strong grip. "I'm Mario."

Sure you are, Jon thought, his eyes speaking obvious lust. But any further interaction was thwarted by a sudden shout of "head's up" as the ball bounded back in their direction. The game was on again. Jon found himself playing with renewed vigor, anxious to impress the younger man with his strength and stamina. Last time they'd met he planned to hit up on the foxy buck. Those plans were thwarted when he found himself in the master bedroom, part of a three way sandwich with his straight buddy Ray and college slut Petie Stavros. Given their recent history, any chance of playing around with Ray was pretty much out of the question. The sexy young Italian cousin would provide an ample enough substitute.

The ball was whacked back and forth time and again, often times missing its mark and landing entirely outside the pool. The young children scampering about were eager to retrieve the black-and-white and toss it back to the challenging teams. Score was tied; game point. Jon's team sent the ball sailing over the net, the opposing team returned. A well-built Latino (Jon would have to find out more about that one) spiked it, but the other team managed an impressive save. Both teams managed to keep the ball up for an incredibly long amount of time, neither of them wanting to be the loser.

Suddenly it was shot like a bullet straight into a dead zone. Jon and his team mates frantically lunged toward the spot, desperately trying to save the ball from hitting the water. Bodies fell upon bodies, water splashed skyward. When the last wave had cleared none had managed to make the save. The winning team whooped it up with shouts of victory and slapping of palms while the losers slowly came to their feet in the waist-high water. Jon's hands were wiping his face and clearing his eyes when he distinctly felt a pair of hands cup and then squeeze his muscle-hard buttocks. Turning to look over one massive shoulder he found himself staring into the face of Mario the Guido. Facing the younger man he chanced a feel of the Italian's crotch under the rolling water, fairly certain no one else would be aware of the out-of-sight grope. Mario's dark lashes lids widened, his brown eyes flashing desire.

"Let's get out of the pool," Jon growled sexily. "I know a place where we can go."

Making his way to the edge of the pool, Jon knew there was no concealing the half-hardon he was sporting in his already-revealing briefs. He just hoped none of the elderly aunts suffered a coronary if they should chance to look at his bulging groin. As luck would have it Jon spied a towel draped across the back of a nearby bench and quickly snatched it up. With his excited cock head now close to peeking out from the top of his skimpy attire, Jon held the towel loosely in front of him as he slipped through the party crowd. Certain the object of his attraction was close behind, Jon headed toward the nearby shed at the back of the yard.

Years ago he'd assisted Ray in transforming the storage shed into a makeshift gym. Together they'd endured numerous workouts there---workouts of various degrees. There was nothing private about the place, especially now with the party going on right outside the walls. But Jon and Ray both liked it that way. The thrill of discovery always heightened their sexual appetite. So far they'd been lucky---damned lucky---considering some of the mischief they'd involved themselves in. The very idea of taking the sultry young Guido in this place where he'd often had Ray, with the windows placed just high enough that no one could see inside, appealed to Jon's latent exhibitionism. Besides, it was close and he didn't want to give the handsome stud any time to change his mind.

Jon entered the shed through the unlocked side door. The easy entry was no surprise to him; Ray never kept the place secured. The sun filtered through the high louvered windows on all sides, providing ample enough illumination. The single air conditioning unit they had installed several years ago wasn't powered on and the heat in the enclosure was somewhat oppressive, despite the fact that all windows had been opened a few inches. Jon could hear bits of the conversation being had to the front of the building, their cigarette smoke wafting up the wall and filtering in through the high windows. He had no time to consider the outsiders overhearing what might transpire in the shed for Mario had just slipped inside.

The dark-skinned Italian certainly presented a pretty picture leaning against the door, his jet-black hair glossy and his gym-toned body glistening with a seductive sheen from the pool water. He looked across the small expanse at Jon, his brown eyes smoldering with sexual invitation. Jon gave him the once over from head to foot, curious to note that despite the lack of hair elsewhere on his body the handsome young man sported the trademark Giagianno legs. Thick and hairy, they looked as though they could wrap around Jon's waist and hold him captive for as long as he desired.

With a foxish grin turning up the corners of his mouth Jon let his towel drop to the floor and stepped forward, his prominent pecker leading the way. He stopped very close to the younger man, so close their erect nipples practically touched, and reached behind him to slide the dead bolt into place. With his face this close to the flawless Guido Jon could smell an equally seductive designer cologne, probably something ridiculously expensive and trendy. Steadying himself with one hand flat against the door to the left of young Mario, he reached down to fondle the pouch in the front of the stud's swim trunks. Like Jon, Mario was already rock hard. Anticipating no objection, Jon deftly untied the cord in the front of the suit and pushed his hand inside. His paw wrapped around an impressive slab of warm, throbbing man meat. Moving his face into the crook of young Mario's neck, the older man traced his wet lips along the smooth, tasty surface as he pressed their bodies close together and slowly stroked the hardening dick.

Mario pressed his head back against the door, eyelids momentarily fluttering shut as an awesome sensation overwhelmed him. Turning slightly to one side he was looking directly at the big, muscled arm raised next to him pressed against the door. The scent from the hairy armpit was ripe and raunchy in the oppressive afternoon heat. Lust overtaking him, the sexy Adonis growled sexily and buried his face in the manly concave of the dark pit. Jon let go of the door and took hold of the Guido by the back of the head, raising his elbow up and outward to allow the hungry stud easier access. Mario munched in the sweaty pit, rubbing his handsome face against the hairy concave to coat it with Jon's man scent. He inhaled deeply of the pungent aroma while his tongue lapped out, matting the hairs wetly against Jon's underarm.

Forcing himself away from the horny Italian's slobbering lips Jon used both big hands to pull Mario's trunks down until they stretched around his ankles, providing himself with a first-hand look at the stud's equipment. Mario's cock was a beaut. At somewhere between seven and eight inches it lacked much arc, instead standing straight up and at attention. As the older man predicted, Mario kept himself clean-shaven down there, too. Nary a hair marred the beauty of the well-groomed Italian's groin or ball sac, which rested high between his legs.

Dropping to his knees with impressive ease, Jon covered the head of the sweet Italian sausage with his mouth and instantly tasted the salty pre-cum leaking from the younger hunk. He swirled his tongue around the flanged rim and lapped at the oozing slit, eliciting an appreciative moan from the tanned hunk. As his mouth worked, Jon's eyes were glued to the handsome Italian relative, eager to take in each reaction to his ministrations. Deciding he'd fooled around long enough with foreplay, Jon inhaled deeply and swallowed him whole, successfully lodging every inch of the young Guido's pretty cock down his throat. Mario's loud groan most certainly might have been heard by the men leaning against the wall of the shed it it hadn't been for the noise of the party-goers.

With his hands running up and down the back of the Italian's hairy thighs Jon proceeded to work on the tasty dick. He pumped his face back and forth on every delectable inch, slamming it all the way down his throat with each assault. Mario's hips gyrated sexily, making his cock dance in the warmth of the older man's hot-lipped mouth. His shoulders were pressed against the surface of the door, legs spread wide and his groin thrust outward toward the excellent cock sucker. Young Mario's head rolled from side to side, Jon's awesome blow job already driving him close to orgasm. He didn't want it to end so soon, but doubted he had much choice in the matter. The salt-and-pepper haired family friend gave better head than any of the Guidettes he'd never had a problem seducing.

As Jon hungrily feasted on his main muscle Mario attempted to focus on something, anything, else in order to prolong the moment. His eyes wandered about the place. He found himself impressed with the equipment in the makeshift gym. There was a decent bench press, treadmill, a punching bag dangling from a rafter in the corner, a pull up station and lots of free weights neatly stacked against one wall. He could see two bar bells, one of them looked like it held close to three hundred pounds. From the look of him, the man sloppily sucking on his cock could easily lift that weight.

Over and over Jon impaled his face on the dick shaft sticking straight out in front of him. He was grunting softly each time the turgid cock lodged itself as far as possible down his greedy throat. Mario could hardly stand it when Jon held him like that, milking him with his throat way down deep. The old fuck was positively driving him crazy. He tried like hell to refocus, to think of anything else. He could hear voices outside the open window and desperately tried to concentrate on whatever it was they were saying. He wasn't entirely sure, but one of them sounded like Uncle Vito. He was talking about the horses with someone. Maybe it was Ray's father, but Mario couldn't be entirely sure. All he knew for sure was that, despite his valiant efforts, his heart was racing, his nerve endings were raw and his ball were churning like mad with their pent-up cum. It was going to be a monumental cum, would probably drop him to the floor with its ferocity. He'd have to stuff a fist inside his mouth to quiet the involuntary shouting which most certainly would result.

And then, to his utter surprise, Jon released his twitching cock. Rising to his feet, he startled young Mario by enfolding him in his strong, muscular arms and planting his lips on those of the Italian hunk. Mario allowed the older man to slip his tongue into his mouth and soon was participating in the hungry, masculine kiss. His hands traveled up the man's flared lats and held onto well-rounded shoulders while Jon reached down to take palms full of tight young Guido ass. Breaking the lip lock, Jon licked his way over to Mario's right ear, teasingly the lobe with his teeth and whispering hotly, "Don't worry, little stud. I'm not going to let you get off that easy."

"I was just about to cum," the heavily-breathing Italian blurted out.

"I know," Jon growled. "But we aren't gonna let you do that just yet." His left cheek worked over the surface of the younger man's and their mouths found each other again. They savagely sucked face, tongues coiled around each others inside warm and wet mouths until Jon pulled back again.

"In the pool out there," Jon said with a nod of his, never taking his eyes off the smoldering brown orbs of the sexed-up Guido, "you played a little grab ass." For emphasis, he squeezed Mario's generous buns. "And before this party is over, you're gonna fuck my ass and load me up with your hot, baby making cream."

Mario was certain his heart had stopped for a second or two at hearing Jon's blatant invitation. "Fuck, yeah!" he finally gushed before smashing his lips against those of the older man and reaching around to grasp hold of some man ass for himself. Jon's globes were like fucking marble in his hands. He only hoped that a sudden flex of those buns wouldn't tear his cock off at the root. Regardless, getting inside this macho, sexually adventurous stud promised to be a real treat.

Brandon Davidson stood poolside, shirtless like the rest of the male population gathered in the yard, with afternoon cocktail in hand. Tall, blond and muscular with strikingly deep sapphire blue eyes, he presented quite a tempting package in his low slung, knee-length white cotton shorts. Today, however, Brandon appeared oblivious to any admiring glances. He was really making an attempt to enjoy the festivities, but he couldn't shake the premonition which had dominated his mind for most of the past week. If he hadn't been so absorbed in his own thoughts, from his vantage point, he would easily have noticed Jon slinking off into the shed with the hot little Italian number. Might even have joined them in some mid-afternoon frolicking. But instead Brandon found himself drifting from the pleasantries of the barbeque to the suspicions lurking in the back of his mind.

Brandon and his identical twin sons, Trevor and Tyler, first appeared on Mansgrove Lane some three summers ago. Brandon's mother, Hilda, died in a tragic fall necessitating Brandon's attention to her final services and disposition of the family property. It was while filtering through Hilda's personal belongings that Brandon learned of his mother's attraction to the handsome neighbor from across the street. Hilda had a number of photographs and home-made video of Ray Giagianno, always stripped to the waist, obviously taken right from her own home. A long repressed desire flamed anew in Brandon as he perused the collection. The sexual magnetism of hunky Ray proved to be overwhelming and soon Brandon had taken his first fuck buddy in many long years.

The Davidsons ran their own private business---Brandon handling matters in the States while his wife, Greta, saw to the lucrative overseas branch. The more successful the business became, the more Greta grew found of her trips to Europe. Soon she was there a good nine months out of the year, leaving her husband and teenage sons to fend for themselves. Greta had always been more of a career woman than a home maker; Brandon knew almost from the first year of the marriage that he would have to assume most of the duties of the home. He was never resentful of the extra burdens placed upon him and worked with Greta to build a happy home and secure atmosphere for their sons.

Greta failed to even raise an eyebrow or question Brandon's decision to hold onto his family home and spend summers with the boys out in the sleepy New Jersey town. But for the beautiful Swede the allure of Paris, London and Rome meant far more than spending even one day trapped in a town full of white-picket fences, sharing recipes with the smiling neighbors. With a kiss to each cheek she trotted off with multiple suitcases to continue her globe trotting, a lifestyle which obviously suited her best.

With their mother's frequent absences, the boys naturally gravitated toward their father and seemed to have taken a shine to Brandon's home town. After that first summer they actually became anxious to experience the next. Brand would have thought the boys might have balked at leaving behind their friends in Wisconsin. But they had a whole new set of friends awaiting them in Jersey. It soon became one highly anticipated extended summer vacation for the Davidson men.

Of course, Brandon's main attraction was the relationship he'd formed with the handsome and manly Giagianno hunk. Sexy Ray would often saunter across the street in the early evening on the pretext of being downright neighborly and wind up pounding fuck out of Brandon's appreciative asshole while the boys were out. There had even been rainy day occasions when Trevor and Tyler were home watching the tube or playing some video game and the grown men could not contain their rampant libidos. They'd retired to the cluttered basement, garage or behind bedroom doors where Brandon prayed they would not be overheard. He wasn't sure how he'd explain himself if the boys discovered his antics, while the risk seemed to actually heighten Ray's ardor.

Not long after he came to find multiple pleasures with Ray's personal fuck buddy, the outrageously muscled Jon. The middle-aged bisexual proved to be one fine fuck. And then there was his childhood friend, the one with whom he'd first engaged in mutual play, Spiros Stavros. Married with children of his own, the darkly handsome Greek ravaged Brandon's body nearly every occasion they found themselves alone together. With three of the most sexually adventurous men in town at his disposal, summers became one continuous fuck-a-thon for the good-looking blond.

An overly exuberant swimmer sent a wave of cool water splashing against Brandon's bare legs and momentarily brought him out of his reverie. Taking a sip of the alcoholic concoction watered down by quickly melting ice cubes, Brandon stepped back and rested himself on a nearby bench. Usually sociable at these frequent Giagianno functions, today Brandon found himself plagued by his own thoughts.

It all started a little over a week ago, when he took an impromptu flight to Britain to surprise Greta and catch up on the European end of their business. Although the boys were now nineteen and fully capable of caring for themselves, Brandon didn't like the idea of leaving them totally alone. When he presented the dilemma to Spiros after one particularly satisfying fuck session, the hairy-chested Greek suggested his son Petie stay with the teens. Petie Stavros was a good three years older than the twins, but they'd become fast friends that first summer. The curly-haired offspring of Spiros attended college in Florida but was home during the summer break before his final year. Although his parents lived nearby, Petie spent a great deal of his time on Mansgrove Lane visiting his grandparents. Brandon was comfortable with the plan and the boys seemed excited with the prospect of sharing quarters with Petie for awhile.

It was a dreary and dismal day when he landed at Heathrow. Brandon instantly found himself longing for those sunny days he'd enjoyed in the States. The few times he'd been to Britain were enough to convince him that it wasn't a place for him. Just as well that Greta had taken on the responsibilities of the overseas operation. The cab ride proved long and arduous and Brandon was grateful when it pulled up in front of the hotel where Greta had a suite of rooms. As it turned out, Greta wasn't in and the porter would not allow Brandon access no matter how much he explained their marital status. In the interim Brandon stashed his one piece of luggage with the bell man and settled for a drink in the dark hotel lounge.

He was only there a matter of minutes when a surprisingly good looking chap made his acquaintance and joined Brandon for a second cocktail. The tall looker's name was Nigel, an out-of-towner in London for a series of meetings with a business associate. Brandon revealed little about himself to the stranger, despite the fact he was grateful for some distraction while he awaited Greta's return. One thing led to another and, by the third drink, Brandon was feeling quite good and reached the conclusion that this friendly Brit was actually coming on to him. Nigel certainly looked good in his business suit and Brandon couldn't help but wonder how the stud would look stripped of it. He barely hesitated when invited to retire to Nigel's room.

Nigel proved to be quite the talented lover, bringing Brandon to multiple orgasms in the course of the two hours they spent together crumpling the sheets of his large bed. First Nigel fucked Brandon, then the American returned the favor. They fucked, sucked each other's cock and assumed varied positions during the course of their love-making until becoming completely spent. After a long sensual shower Brandon surprised Nigel by revealing he had to go meet his wife, but promised to call the number the other man had supplied before his return flight to the States.

Greta appeared stunned and none-too-pleased when she opened the door to her suite and saw her husband standing there. With all the distance between them their marriage was not what it had once been, but Brandon thought she'd at least be bit happy to spend a few hours with him. She assured him again and again that all was going well with their business ventures, that there was no need for concern. But, fuck it, didn't he have a right to learn for himself? They didn't really argue but Brandon was left with the eerie feeling that Greta was concealing something from him.

She waved off an intimate dinner, announcing she was already committed to dine with a wealthy client. Since her clients were also his, Brandon found this the perfect opportunity to see first hand what Greta was accomplishing in Europe. She tried to discourage him but Brandon held firm. While Greta prepared for the evening Brandon sat alone in the front room wondering why his wife appeared so anxious to be rid of him.

The question was answered a few hours later when they entered what appeared to be a decidedly romantic little restaurant. "Mr. Davenport is expecting me," Greta announced and the Davidsons were shown to a table where another man sat, his back to them. At their approach he stood, turned and the smile on his handsome face froze. Greta's business dinner was with none other than Nigel, the same man Brandon had spent the afternoon with!

The evening was tense. Brandon couldn't help but notice those suspicious looks which passed between Greta and Nigel. He could well understand Nigel's uneasiness, but why was Greta so disturbed? Although she was initially reluctant to have her husband present, Brandon had conducted his own fair amount of business meetings and was no stranger to protocol. There was no legitimate reason for Greta's bizarre behavior.

The evening ended rather early. Greta said no more than a few words on their drive back to the hotel and retired to her bed as soon as they returned, leaving Brandon to ponder the strange circumstances over a nightcap. In the morning she was no more talkative than the night before. When she questioned the length of his stay Brandon felt it was a query that had been burning on her lips for hours before being uttered. Perhaps he should stay here in London and get to the bottom of whatever the trouble was. But in the end Brandon decided it just wasn't worth the effort. He and Greta had grown apart over the years---hadn't seen each other once in the past nine months---and this was the result. Another life awaited him back in the States---a life he found preferable to the one he once had with his wife.

Before leaving he wanted an audience with Nigel. He phoned the Euro fuck, requesting a final meeting before he returned to the States. Nigel, however, was unreceptive to the idea. He seemed extremely nervous and told Brandon it was best they did not meet. Brandon couldn't help but think there was much more to it than Nigel's surprise at discovering his afternoon fling was the husband of his business associate. But, true to his British heritage, Nigel remained tight-lipped. After wishing Brandon a safe flight he abruptly terminated the call.

All through the flight home, for days afterwards and even today, Brandon kept playing that evening over and over in his mind. He'd come to the conclusion that there was much more going on than he was aware of. Were the two in cahoots on some risky venture they didn't want him to know about? Was Greta making some secret deals of her own and cutting Brandon out? Questions and more questions plagued his mind until Brandon felt his brain would surely explode. He needed answers. An audit of the company's assets would certainly be a good start, just to make certain Greta wasn't engaging herself in anything destructive to all they'd amassed.

He had already resolved to call his lawyer in the morning and discuss his suspicions when a deep male voice broke through his private thoughts. "Hey, Mr. Davidson. You okay?"

Momentarily startled, Brandon jerked his head to the side and looked into the sky blue eyes of the young man who was suddenly sitting beside him. It was former newspaper boy---now college student---Cory Evans.

"Cory!" he greeted exuberantly, "How are you? I didn't know you were here at the barbeque." That was a bold-faced lie. It was hard not to notice the strikingly handsome twenty-one-year old.

"Been here for hours," Cory replied. "Was chillin' with Trev and Tyler awhile ago. Saw you sitting over here lookin' like your mind was somewhere else and I thought I'd come and say hey."

"Glad you did," Brandon smiled. He casually rested a hand on Cory's thigh and gave it a friendly squeeze. "How's school coming along?"

"Doing good," Cory told him enthusiastically. "Won't be long until I have my diploma. Who'd have ever thought I'd go from delivering newspapers to being a college graduate?"

"I always had high hopes for you, Cory," Brandon reassured him, patting the young man's strong thigh once again. "My boys will be starting college this fall."

"So they told me," Cory replied. He continued on with the conversation, telling Brandon how his sons were eagerly anticipating their college experience. But Brandon wasn't really listening anymore. His attention was centered on the absolute male beauty of the hunky stud muffin seated so very close to him that their thighs almost touched. Cory's succulent lips continued to move as Brandon drank in eyes the palest of blue partially shielded by the young man's long white-blond bangs. He was clean-shaven, his complexion wholesomely smooth and creamy. Brandon allowed his eyes to flitter for a few moments over the bare upper body of the blond lad, appreciative of Cory's meaty musculature. The former newspaper delivery boy had the body of a young football player.

"Mr. Davidson?" Once again Brandon was slapped out of his daydreaming. "There you go again, drifting off."

"I-I'm sorry, Cory," Brandon said, shaking his head as if to ward off his thoughts. "What were you saying?"

"Nothing important. Just shooting the shit. Oops, sorry! I meant shooting the breeze."

Brandon chuckled. "Not to worry. You're not a kid anymore, Cory."

"No, I'm not," Cory replied pointedly, his eyes boring into Brandon. "Then again, I never really was. Twenty-one now, but I've been doing things other guys my age have been doing since I was sixteen."

"From the smell of beer on your breath I take it you've pretty much embraced your budding maturity," Brandon told him with a lop-sided smile.

Cory registered shock. "No, sir! Never had a drink until my twenty-first birthday. My Pop would have killed me! Even now, I have more than two beers and I'm nearly wasted. I've had three already today."

"So I guess you're feeling pretty good." Brandon was amused at the young man's confession.

"Feeling real good, but I'm flagged. Strictly Coca Cola for the rest of the afternoon."

Brandon relaxed back on the bench, stretching his arms out across it. "Sounds like a good idea. I think I've had enough cocktails myself for awhile."

"Got a buzz?" Cory was smiling conspiratorially.

"A little one," Brandon admitted with his own grin.

"Maybe that's why you keep zoning out." Cory paused a moment, then added, "Although I'm pretty sure where you went a little while ago."

"And where's that?"

Looking around to be certain no one was within earshot, Cory dropped his voice. Giving Brandon a direct stare, he said, "You were checking me out, man."

Caught off guard by the young man's bold statement, Brandon's face flushed. Attempting to compose himself, he stammered, "Ch-checking you out? Wh-What do you mean, Cory?"

Cory rolled his pretty blue eyes. "You know what I mean. You were checkin' out my bod." Then quickly, as if afraid he'd admonished the older man, "It's alright, really!"

"I-I hardly know what to say," Brandon struggled for words.

Cory chuckled mischievously and deliberately flexed a bicep, showing off for Brandon's admiring eyes. "Back when I was a teen delivering papers to your door, your mom used to tell me I had a great body for my age."

Brandon's ears perked. "My mom told you that?" From the pictures he'd discovered around the house of a half-naked Ray Giagianno, Brandon was already aware of his mother's interest in the male anatomy.

"Heck, yeah! Mrs. Davidson was a cool old lady. Used to invite me into the house all the time," Cory revealed. "Kind of old fashioned, but a nice place. Haven't been there since she, ya know, passed."

"You're welcome any time," Brandon offered.

"How about now?" Cory said it without a second's hesitation.

"Well, yeah, I suppose," Brandon was somewhat flustered by Cory's bravado. "But are you sure you want to leave the party?"

"Just for a little while." The young blond hunk was already on his feet. "C'mon, let's take a walk across the street." By the time Brandon hoisted himself from the bench, young Cory was already on his way to the gate leading out of the Giagianno yard. Brandon quickly caught up with the eager blond.

They fit between two of the many cars lined up and down both sides of the neighborhood street and made their way to the other side sharing casual conversation. As they sauntered down the slate walk to the front door, Cory suddenly came to a stop and pointed to a spot on the lawn.

"That's where I found her that morning," he announced, clarifying, "your mother. Did you know I was the one found her?"

"Yes," Brandon nodded, "I believe someone told me. I'm sorry you had to see that."

Cory shrugged. "I wasn't scared or nuthin'. Just felt sorry for her. Like I said, she was awful nice to me. Gave me awesome tips for delivering her paper everyday. Best tips on this street, anyway."

"I'm glad," Brandon replied, turning to continue on to the house. But Cory was still rooted to the spot, seemingly caught up in his memories. "She was just laying there, all broken up. They quick covered her up when they came, being she wasn't wearing much. Just that negligee thing you could see clear through. Not even any panties on her." Then, with a start, "Oh, I'm awful sorry Mr. Davidson. I shouldn't have gone on about your mom like that."

Brandon cleared his throat. "It's okay, Cory. Really. I don't mind hearing about my mother. After all, I wasn't here so I didn't know a great deal about that morning."

They continued on up the porch and entered the house through the unlocked front door. Cory checked out the living room, kitchen and dining room, commenting on how everything seemed exactly as he remembered it. He inquired as to the whereabouts of Old Boris, the family cat and Brandon explained that the elder Stavros' had adopted Fred Davidson's faithful companion.

With a short tour of the main floor concluded they made their way back to the entrance. Just as Brandon was reaching for the door handle, Cory surprised him by bolting up the stairs to the upper floor. With a curious frown on his otherwise handsome face, Brandon mounted the stairs and went after the blond beefcake. At the landing he looked both ways but caught no sight of Cody. Traveling down the hallway he paused to look in one room, then another.

"Cory?" he raised his voice.

"In here," came the masculine response from the master bedroom at the end of the hall. Brandon followed the voice and stepped into what had once been his mother and father's inner sanctuary. Cory was standing there, one hand on a wooden post and looking down at the bed where Brandon now spent his evenings.

"We did it there a lot," he announced. "Fucked, I mean."

"WHAT?" Brandon was caught completely off guard.

Cory looked over at him innocently. "Your mom and me. We fucked here a lot. Not only here. We did it on the living room sofa sometimes, or on the kitchen counter. But mostly she liked to do it here."

"Y-You and my mother?" Brandon was absolutely floored by the revelation.

"Like I said, she tipped real good. I was sixteen, seventeen and not about to give up free pussy, you know what I mean?" Not waiting for a response, he went on, "First time I ever had a real blow job was from Mrs. Davidson. Boy, did she like my cock! Said I was a real big boy. She sucked me off like there was no tomorrow, eating all my jizz. It didn't even bother me that she was older than my own mother, even when I was munching out her juicy pussy."

Brandon took a step backward, stunned to learn that his mother had seduced the then-teen ager. Her infatuation with Ray was one thing: he was a grown man. But to actually bed a youth not much older than her own grandsons was downright deplorable! His mother must have been a crazed nymphomaniac!

Despite the shocking confession, Brandon quickly realized that Cory's story had caused an excited boner to grow from his groin and pound against the front of his shorts. Cory noticed it, too. Before Brandon even realized what was happening, the younger man had flicked the clasp at the top of his shorts, tore down the zipper and stepped out of them. Kicking them to the side, Cory stood there buck naked with a shit-eating grin plastered on his good looking face. Brandon gulped, his eyes wide as saucers, when he saw the enormous piece of chunky meat dangling from the young buck's loins.

"C'mon, Mr. Davidson. You know you want it, just like your mother always did." Cory already knew from his conversations with the Davidson twins that their father swung on cock. The boys, especially Tyler, were all too eager to detail his frequent fuck sessions with Petie's father, muscle bound Jon and the straight husband from across the street whose party they'd just abandoned.

Brandon looked Cory in the face with a mixture of uncertainty and excitement, then dropped his eyes to the blond beefcake's bulging crotch. Cory noted the major swell and the beginnings of a tell-tale wet spot showing through the cotton material of Davidson's summer shorts and knew he had his undivided attention. Brandon dropped to his knees in front of Cory, who was anchored there with his legs shoulder's width apart, his mammoth cock swaying mere inches from the older man's face. Smelling the musky odor of sex emanating from Cory's genitals, Brandon lost his last bit of control, jammed his head up between the stud muffin's thighs and began voraciously munching on his bloated ball sac. Brandon licked the silken orbs with their fine coating of white-blond hair until they glistened with his spittle. Taking one nad into his hungry mouth, he sucked and chewed on it, causing Cory a momentary kick in his gut. When finished with one he gave the other similar favor, ultimately attempting to swallow young Cory's entire gonads into the hollow of his mouth. As he nibbled on nuts Brandon took Cory's manhood in hand and stroked his fist up and down the fat, heated surface, marveling at how someone so young could have such a fierce fuck stalk. The slick palm of his hand glided over the sensitive helmet, sending pleasurable shivers through Cory's beefy body.

Nuts were a nice appetizer, but Brandon couldn't wait to get to the main course. Grasping the stalk by its thick base he started by running his tongue over the surface of the thick mushroom-shaped head and swirling around the rubbery-textured rim. Cory had a big, meaty cock head capping his equally impressive rod and Brandon gave it all the attention it deserved. He stuffed the knob into his mouth, locked his lips under the flange and sucked like a newborn baby on its mama's teat. His tongue lashed back and forth across the deep slit until he tasted the first wave of Cory's tasty pre cum. An appreciative moan vibrated around Cory's fat hood as Brandon thoroughly enjoyed each surge of sweet, succulent nectar.

Up until now all of adult Brandon's fuck buddies were in close proximity to his own age. Cory was the first young man he'd sampled since he was a young man himself. The flavorful juice tantalizing his taste buds reminded Brandon of those long ago years when he'd first drunk from Spiros' spigot. In that moment, while he sampled as much pre-cum as he could coax from Cory, Brandon decided there was definitely a difference between the spunk of young and older men. Not that he had an aversion to man juice, but he was thrilling to the remarkable and previously-unknown-to-him bblings from young meat.

Brandon worked his jaws wide open and took as much of Cory's prick into his mouth as he could possibly handle. While he sucked on the delicious young cock Cory's hands went to the back of his head and held him in place. Brandon's paws explored Cory's muscular body while he gave the young man the best blow job he could possibly muster. He'd forgotten the thrill of having smooth young flesh to caress, knead and appreciate. Momentarily Brandon found himself wondering if his sons' bodies felt as sinful and alluring as Cory's felt under the roving palms of his hands. He decided they must.

"Feels real good, Mr. D," Cory was saying. He sucked in his lower lip, eyes rolling heavenward when Brandon's tongue ran over his cock head and swabbed at his piss hole before engulfing the shaft once again. "Ooooh yeah. I can see where Ty gets his talents from."

Brandon choked, not from Cory's cock but from the words he'd just heard the young blond speak. For a moment he wasn't certain he'd heard correctly. Did Cory actually mention his son, Tyler? He wanted to extricate himself from the blonde's groin and pursue the matter, but Cory's grip was firm on his head and Brandon wasn't going anywhere.

It was a definite slip of the tongue for Cory. He instantly winced, knowing he'd overstepped his bounds. It certainly hadn't been intentional. But with this mature man---the first time Cory had ever had one---worshipping his assets, he'd somehow lost control. And there was no taking it back now. He knew both Trevor and Tyler loved their father very much and had grown weary of carrying on their secret sexual assignations behind his back. They'd talked about it just the other night. Petie Stavros was curiously encouraging, urging the boys to just sit their Dad down, lay it on him and let the chips fall where they may. Cory, on the other hand, could understand their reticence. He would have a hard time telling his own Dad about some of his sexual hijincks, most especially the now-officially ended relationship he'd shared with Ryan Sullivan the past few years. But then, his Dad wasn't a player like Mr. Davidson. At least, not that he was aware of.

Since he'd already opened the proverbial can of worms, Cory made the quick decision that he would now have to be the one to clear the air between the Davidson family. There was no turning back. And, when he stopped to think about it, Brandon would have a hard time condemning his own sons when he had at least six inches of Cory's leaking pecker between his lips.

"You heard right, Daddy," Cory went on in a hushed tone. "Your nineteen-year-old son, Tyler, likes cock just as much as you do. Must run in the family. Remember a couple nights ago, when the bunch of us went to the movies? Tyler sucked me off right there in the seats. Twice. And I wasn't the only one. He blew Petie, Ryan, a couple of our other buds and three old guys sittin' behind us." Brandon was slurping like mad on Cory's cock now, spurned on by the tantalizing revelation. His nostrils flared widely as he snorted and crammed Cory's cock down into his throat. Cory was really beginning to enjoy this.

"Oh, fuck, yeah!" Cory blurted breathlessly when Brandon's snorted loudly, his throat suddenly giving up resistance and gulped him down to the blond root. He wasn't sure the older guy would be able to take all of his fat hog, but Brandon was truly impressing him. Brandon was working him like a crazed cock sucker, groveling around his root and choking on his meat. Deciding it was the story which had upped the amps, Cory went on, "Only thing Ty likes better than sucking cock is a big fat dick up his ass. Your boy's ass is, like, totally bottomless. He takes every fuckin' inch of my meat like it was nothin'. It's absolutely awesome the way he takes a fuck!"

Brandon wailed something, but it proved to be completely inaudible around the chunk of dick borrowing far down into his throat. His arms wrapped around Cory's solid ass cheeks, molding the younger man against him while he gorged himself on delicious cock. His throat massaged every inch of Cory from within while his tongue lathed the hairy root. A movie was playing in his mind; a movie with his son as star and a cast of nameless, faceless penis' in supporting roles. He couldn't believe how aroused he was by the thought of young Tyler engaging in the same activities he currently enjoyed.

"Fuck, yeah!" Cory moaned, hugging Brandon's head close to his groin. "That's right, Mr. D. You're so fuckin' good. A real cock pig, just like your son!"

Brandon fumbled with the catch on his fly, desperate to release his pent-up hardon and give it some much-needed attention. He felt like he was just moments away from unloading in his shorts. Whimpering like a starved animal, he gorged himself on Cory's astonishing appendage and began frantically beating his meat. Cory grinned, happily in control of the situation. He, a young man of twenty-one, had turned Daddy Brandon into a raging cock whore for the afternoon. And he wasn't finished yet.

As his balls bounced around on Brandon's chin, Cory continued, "Much as Tyler gets down on all the cock he can, I don't think there's any comes close to the one he knows the best . . . oh, fuck . . . shit that feels so good, Mr. D . . . " Brandon was like some sort of human milking machine, sucking with unbelievable passion on Cory's big meat. "One cock he . . loves to suck . . . loves to take up his tight ass . . . ohhhhhhhhhh, fuck . . . his . . . his b-brother, Trevor!"

Brandon froze, eyes bulging wide. "Tre-vor!" Cory felt, rather than heard, the name bellowed around his cock. Biting his lower lip, he thrust his hips forward and slammed every inch of his prick into Davidson's yawning maw.

"That's right. Trevor, his twin brother. Your other son," Cory panted as he ravaged Brandon's throat. "They've been fucking since they first learned how, right under your nose." Cory slammed his hips back and forth, fucking Brandon's face like it was a loosened pussy. "When you're fuckin' all your buddies in this room, they've been lookin' through the keyhole, watching. They want to tell you, but they didn't know how. They think you're a real hot Dad. And I agree."

The cry which uttered from Brandon was primal, bestial. His sons! His beautiful identical twin sons unmasked as voracious male lovers! He knew he should be mortified but, at this moment, with a hot young cock buried between his lips Brandon couldn't help but be thoroughly aroused by the shocking truth of it all. Trevor, fucking his twin brother. Tyler sucking cock after cock after cock. The both of them watching him and---and who? Spiros? Ray? Jon? All of them? Seeing their Daddy getting fucked like a wanton whore!"

Suddenly and without warning Cory's cock was ripped from his throat. A long rope of saliva was all that connected the leaking cock head from Brandon's sopping wet lips. Before he could even react Cory's hands were on Brandon's shoulders, roughly shoving him. The bigger man fell backwards onto the floor, his arms trying to break the fall as his legs rose up. Swiftly dropping to his knees, Cory told hold of Brandon's legs and lifted them higher as he scooted in between the V made by the strong limbs. It was an awesome sight, this grown man laying there unabashedly naked with a raging adult hard-on. His strong male thighs were raised and spread wide, his pink ass hole deliciously visible and inviting in its sparse growth of dark blond hairs. Cory had never fucked adult ass before; all of his assignations had been with guys his own age. Fucking Mr. Davidson would be almost like fucking own father! Cory found himself more aroused than ever before as he adjusted himself and positioned his rigid prick against Brandon's mature ass hole. Brandon was glaring at him with eager expectation.

"My cock's been up your mom's twat, your son's pussy and now it gets some daddy ass," he announced as he pushed into Brandon's bud. "Hope you're near as good a lay as the others, you hot stud!"

Directly across the street, Tyler Davidson was perched on the front stoop of the Giaganno home. Despite the fact there was a party going on in the back yard, he was bored. He'd already had his fill of hot dogs and soda, spent more than enough time in the pool and wasn't into horse shoes or any of the other lame games going on. What he really wanted to do, what he always seemed to want to do, was to get fucked.

Sure there were more than enough dicks at the barbeque. And he'd gotten an eyeful of nice crotches from most of the men in attendance. He'd even gotten caught a few times staring longingly at some of them, most especially after they got out of the pool and you could really see what a man had to offer. But there were no takers. Not one of the hot studs came up to him and suggested a trek to a more private spot. Tyler knew he was a good enough looking nineteen-year-old. With two movie star gorgeous parents like his, why shouldn't he be? The boys both were model perfect with prominent cheekbones, dark blond hair, deep blue eyes and the defined bodies of Olympic swimmers.

Most times he had no problem getting dick. Once he'd turned eighteen, a whole new world had opened up for young Tyler. All of those men who had previously shied away from him because of his age were now legally able to indulge in the delights of the horny teen. Even brother Trevor didn't know half of the mischief his twin had gotten into. While Trevor showed little patience for sitting in front of a laptop, Tyler was internet savvy. He quickly found the hottest sites on the web where he could meet others interested in sharing his sexual desires. One look at the gorgeous blond on webcam was all most of them needed to pique their libidos and prompt Tyler to give almost nightly shows to a host of interested viewers.

He struck pay dirt with a visit to www.squirt.org., a website where he discovered much local action. To his delighted surprise, most of the Wisconsin men he met through the site were middle-aged and married, no longer getting what they really needed---or wanted---at home. Tyler was like a kid in a candy shop, sampling many and settling on a few. One of his favorite lovers turned out to be the biggest shock of his life thus far. When he'd first met the man, who had only provided a very impressive shoulder to mid-thigh photo, he was flabbergasted to discover it was his former high school coach! He'd always harbored a secret crush for the hot beefcake, who was married with three sons of his own. Coach Hamilton wasn't surprised in the least; he'd recognized Tyler from his profile picture and was anxious for a piece of the eighteen-year-old's ass. Hamilton was a forceful, aggressive fuck---and Tyler loved every moment spent with the macho bisexual man.

Tyler's asshole was twitching just thinking about Coach and the nice, fat dick on the man. He sure could use Coach right now. In fact, he could use just about anybody right now. Pretty soon he'd be scrambling up to his room and digging out the giant dildo he'd clandestinely purchased and kept hidden in a bottom drawer of his dresser---an instrument quite familiar to his web viewers. Horny as he was, Tyler didn't feel like crossing the street. Didn't feel like being alone. Didn't feel like pleasuring himself with rubber. He wanted the real thing.

Some young man, Latino and not all that bad looking, came through the gate with a decent-enough looking girl in tow. They were giggling and looking all lovey-dovey as they made their way to a car parked across the street. As they drove off, Tyler wondered if they were a couple who'd had enough of the oppressive heat or if they'd just met and were headed off for some hot sex. Tyler guessed he could have showed the young fuck a damned good time, probably better than the broad would.

Working a pebble with his bare toe, Tyler wondered where his brother had gotten off to. Trevor was there, then he was suddenly gone. Probably off fucking somebody somewhere, if he knew anything about his twin at all. The boys might look identical, but their personalities were decidedly different. Trevor was more the "butch" guy's guy type, while Tyler was more studious and introspective. Still, they made quite a team. Trevor fucked like a champ and Tyler gave up his ass whenever brother wanted. Once Tyler had convinced him to put on a brotherly-love show for the cam. Trevor was a little weirded out, concerned about who might see the session, so they never did it again. But that one time was enough to have the bloggers busy for the next several weeks. Right now he was pissed at his brother for excluding him from whatever it was he was doing now.

Petie Stavros was another one had put him off. The twenty-two year old Greek college boy, home for the summer from Florida, was Tyler's equal when it came to an oversexed libido. (Or so Tyler thought; Petie was far more adventurous than the newbie.) They'd had a few good times so far this summer. Just the other night at the cinema they'd engaged in some scandalous activities, neither one of them really catching the film. Today Petie seemed to have interests other than Tyler, Trevor or any of the younger guys. In fact, Petie had been suspiciously absent most of the afternoon. From the way the college boy always looked at Mr. Giagianno, Tyler had a pretty good idea where Petie's real interests lay. And he certainly couldn't fault the curly-haired Greek god: Ray Giagianno was definitely a desirable hunk. Who knew better than Tyler's own father, who often received late night visits from the neighbor when they thought the twins were safely tucked into bed with visions of pussy dancing in their heads?

Thinking about all the sex on the block was just making Tyler more and more frustrated. He leaned back on one elbow on the porch and blatantly rubbed his dick through the front of his shorts. He was hot as a fourth of July firecracker and ready to burst. He just had to get fucked! And soon!

Maybe, just maybe, he might find someone on squirt.org from nearby who wanted to play. He'd hooked up with a few during the past weeks already. If all else failed there was always that sixty-three year old from the next town over who thrilled in his own private grandson fantasy. It wasn't exactly Tyler's thing, but right now he needed dick---and any hard dick would do.

Tyler was just about to rise from his solitary place on the porch and go home to log onto his laptop when the front door suddenly opened. Out stepped someone who changed the course of the afternoon for the blond pussy boy.

Trevor really loved his twin brother, but sometimes Tyler was too damned demanding. He could instantly tell from the way Tyler was nervously fidgeting around the barbeque that he had an itch up his ass again. Maybe it had something to do with the weather. Whatever the reason, Trevor really didn't feel like being shadowed by his brother today. Which is why he purposely avoided Ty and slipped out of the back yard with Ryan Sullivan before his other could pursue.

Ryan was the twenty-year-old, freckle-faced second cousin of Cathy Giagianno. The eldest of three Irish brothers, each a year apart from each other, he lived in New York City with his folks and attended college there. He had come out early for the barbeque, spending the past few days at the Giagiannos and would either be returning with his parents later this evening or take a train sometime in the next few days. Ryan always had an open invitation at the Giagiannos; he was Cathy's favorite.

Trevor knew there was history between Ryan and Cory Evans, the blond with the Dutch Boy hair cut. They met at a similar summer barbeque a few years back and instantly became best buddies. They spent a great deal of time with each other each that year, especially since they were both attending the same school. Only their closest conspirators knew they were secret lovers. Both boys dated college girls, but in the evenings they shared one bed.

Trevor could have guessed it wouldn't last long. Cory was much like himself, a young stud about town. There wasn't time to be saddled with one relationship for too long a period of time. There was an awful lot of meat, on both sides of the sexes, to be sampled. Ryan eventually caught Cory red headed with a freshmen gymnast. Cory invited Ryan to join the boys but Ryan, suffering from wounded pride, declined. Things were never exactly the same between the two after that. Exclusive up until then, Ryan began spreading his wings (and legs) and made new fuck friends. The young men began traveling in different circles and before long became little more than casual acquaintances. Trevor would have guessed it to be a bit awkward between the two, meeting together at the barbeque, but they appeared as cordial as ever. At the cinema the other night they sat next to each other, with Trevor's brother down between both their legs servicing.

Needing a break from the barbeque, the crowd and the steaming hot back yard, Trevor suggested they take a stroll down to the little creek which ran through a nicely shaded glen at the end of the block. It would be cooler there and they could relax for a while. Ryan offered no argument. In fact, he seemed quite pleased at the invitation. Making certain his brother didn't see their exit, he hastened Ryan through the gate and hurried down the sidewalk.

It certainly was much cooler there under the trees, although with lack of rain the creek had pretty much dried up to a mere trickle. Besides the isolated beach front, this was pretty much the local hot spot for secret teenage sex. Trevor had many an awesome time in the shady glen during his summer vacations with any variety of partners. Just last week he'd snuck off with pretty Sheri Parker and her so-called boy friend, Chucky. Chucky was a weird-ass, far as Trevor was concerned. The guy would rather beat his meat and watch Trev bang fuck out of Sheri's sweet pussy than grab a piece for himself. Trevor knew what Chucky really wanted---to get his hands on Trev's hard dick. Not that he was adverse to plowing Chucky's asshole, but he got sly satisfaction out of keeping the other boy hopeful. A couple of times he'd let Chucky grope his cock through his pants. Once he'd even hauled it out and watched amusedly as Chucky took it in hand and gave it a few nice strokes. One day he'd give it to Chucky, a real hard man fuck. But for now it was more fun keeping him at bay.

He wasn't about to play coy with Ryan, that much was for sure. Trevor was horny; the cute, freckle-faced Irish boyo didn't come around town all that often. True, Ryan was slightly older than him but Trevor had a lot more experience in handling his conquests. He knew just how to play Ryan. The shaggy-haired surfer-type liked a little bit of romance, then he turned into a complete slut. Trev wasn't all that much for the romance part but if that's what it took to make Ryan into a stark-raving cock whore, that's what he would do.

They'd just trudged down to the low bank by the creek when Trevor made his first move. Spreading his hands across Ryan's bare chest, he gently pushed the older boy into the big tree directly behind him and brought his lips to Ryan's throat. Ryan raised his chin to gaze at the tree tops dreamily and enjoyed the wet little kisses being spread from one side of his throat to the other. Sensing Ryan's automatic response Trevor zeroed in on the other boy's pucker, planting his lips firmly against Ryan's and indulging in a hot and hungry smooch. Ryan's kisser worked along with his, tasting the warm and wet mouth of the dreamy blond. Sloshing their tongues against one another, Trevor's hands wandered down the sides of Ryan's trim body and reached around to squeeze his taut young ass. Ryan had one hand on Trevor's hip, the other caressed the blond twin's shoulder. Their mouths worked together, heads angling from side to side as they stirred up a deeply growing passion.

It wasn't actually Trevor's style to mug it up with another guy, but the hot kiss was really turning him on. Ryan was allowing him to bruise his mouth in a way none of his girls would ever permit. With his hands running over Ryan's chest, clutching him high up on the sides, Trevor sucked the Irish lad's lower lip into his maw and chewed on it. One hand came down to momentarily grope Ryan's hearty basket, eliciting a tell-tale moan from the other boy. Ryan pressed himself away from the tree and enfolded Trevor in his arms, their young bodies molded one into the other. Tongues sloshed sloppily around in oral cavities, making all kinds of wet sex sounds.

Enraptured by Trevor's advances---and suddenly in love with the blond---Ryan reached deep into the front of his own shorts and fondled his hard-on while Trevor continued to hungrily suck his face. Trevor's hands were all over him; over his chest, up and down his arms, and clutching at his ass. Never breaking the kiss, Trevor fumbled with the fly of his shorts and dug in to massage his drooling meat. Ryan was like putty in his hands. The boy was so sexed up there would be no stopping him.

Trevor was the one to break the kiss, surprising even himself by lowering his head to Ryan's chest and licking one hardened little teat. In a new level of bliss, Ryan's head rolled back as his eyes fluttered closed. Trevor formed his lips around the areola and sucked at it same as he did with his girl-fucks, the tip of his tongue doing an erotic dance over the hardened nipple. Sure, girls nips were meatier and a guy could really go to work on them but from the way Ryan's body was reacting there didn't seem to be much different in the end result. With one arm wrapped around Ry's waist Trevor mouthed the tit for all it was worth. Satisfied he'd sufficiently pleasured one, he soon set to work chewing on the other.

Writhing in the younger boy's arms, Ryan decided he couldn't take it any more. He had to get his lips on Trevor's supple body. Taking him by the sides of the head, Ryan coaxed Trev into another brief kiss before giving a bit of like attention to Trevor's juicy nubs. Trevor groaned as his tits were sucked and eaten. Ryan's hands worked to drop Trevor's shorts down around his ankles, leaving the other boy standing there in only his white briefs. Ryan went down to his knees in front of him, still chewing on guy-tit, and ran his hand over the huge protrusion running up one side of those tighty whities. Trevor's held Ryan by the back of the head, running his fingers through the longish hair as Ryan kissed his way down Trevor's torso and clutched the waistband of the underwear. Over seven inches of cock meat slapped up into open air. Holding the briefs just below Trevor's nut sac, Ryan took the cock head into his mouth. His lips and tongue glided over the tasty crown before swallowing as much of the thing as he could take. With his free hand he managed to pull his own shorts and undies down to his knees and stroked himself while he sucked on the beautiful cock.

Trevor encouragingly caressed the back of Ryan's scalp, prompting the Irish lad to gulp down every fucking inch of his hard cock and nuzzle on the broad base. Cocking his head to look up at the blond, Ryan was pleased with the pleasurable response. He could only hold it down there for a moment or two before he was forced back off the ample appendage. Giving his mouth a short break, Ryan pulled Trevor's briefs down his shapely legs until they were crumpled around his sneakers. Failing to lose a beat his mouth was back on the wet cock, giving much attention to the crown and first few inches. As he teased and taunted the desperate dick Ryan toyed with one of his erect pink nipples and stroked his own meat.

Trevor inhaled deeply through his gaping mouth, his eyes rolling upward and head lazily falling back on his shoulders. "Oh, fuck yeah, Ryan. Your mouth is so fucking good!"

Ryan rewarded his appreciation by working his lips down the shaft once again and devouring the entire thing. With all seven-plus inches of young cock buried down his gullet, Ryan used his throat to milk the sweet shaft for all he was worth. Trevor laced the fingers of both hands together behind Ryan's head and held him tightly to his groin. Ryan proved to be a real trouper. He failed to gag, sputter or suffocate, feeding on the cock as though it were part of him. When Trevor finally allowed him to come up Ryan didn't miss a beat. His lips moved up and down the tasty shaft while a hand reached up to man-handle one of Trevor's solid pecs. His eyes remained open the entire time, absorbing each ripple of the other boy's torso as Trevor's lithe body responded to an expert cocksuck.

Back and forth Ryan's head bobbed, sinking to the root and back again in a systematic method. Each time Ryan took him whole Trevor felt an exciting tingling sensation course through the entirety of his body. Ryan was loving his cock like a starved man. Trevor was beginning to wonder if the cute Irish boy had been getting any dick since he and Cody called it quits. Far as he could tell Cody made a big mistake in dumping such a voracious cock lover. The freckle-faced college boy was licking up the underside of his shaft now, running his lips along the entire length and looking up at him with the cutest damn eyes he'd ever seen. Trevor hoped he could hold his nut for awhile longer; he was really enjoying this suck session.

Ryan fidgeted on the ground, dragging his shorts under his knee caps for better cushioning on the solid earth and took hold of his cock again. He massaged the bundle of nerves just under the head, where it always felt extra good. Spitting out Trevor's strong cock, he latched his lips onto the tit he'd been working and vigorously chewed on it. Sighing, Trevor cupped the surfer dude's face in his hands and bent down to plaster his mouth against Ryan's and voraciously suck his face. Ryan jerked both cocks while his tongue slithered around with Trevor's like two snakes in a well-oiled pit. Trevor cupped one of Ryan's pecs and deliberately twisted the sensitive nub. Ryan whimpered inside his mouth, prompting Trevor to hunch down further and give the teat some mouth action. His tongue flicked over the hardened bud as his teeth dug into the flesh around the areola. He sucked on the man tit for a brief while before trading another fevered kiss with the other boy. Ryan broke the lip lock this time, taking a cue from Trevor and feasting on his other pec flesh. All this attention to his man tits was causing Trevor's cock to leak like a faulty faucet in the palm of Ryan's hand.

Not wanting to let that precious nectar go to waste, Ryan went back to business in the southern region. He lapped up every trace of guy-goo, cooing like a kid with his favorite flavor of ice cream as he devoured it. Soon he was back at work mouth-fucking the hardy dick, coaxing it to produce more of the tasty joy juice. His free hand was all over Trevor, one moment tweaking his teats and the next grabbing the sweet mounds of his ass. Poor Trevor was doing all he could to maintain his balance; the younger boy was actually making him weak in the knees. It was like Ryan was some kind of a mythical vampire, sucking the life out of him through his cock.

Trevor would liked to have gone on the remainder of the afternoon like this, but he alone knew his own limitations. If Ryan kept it up at this pace he'd be shooting his load in no time. And there were other things Trevor had in mind for the freckle-faced Irish youth. Dropping to his knees to face the other boy, Trevor enfolded Ryan in his arms and smashed their lips together once again. He swapped spit for a short while before gliding his lips across the paler boy's cheek to nibble at his ear lobe and whisper hotly, "I really wanna fuck you, dude."

"Oh, yes!" Ryan gushed. "I want to feel your dick up inside me." He failed to see the smile of satisfaction that played at the corners of Trevor's mouth. They managed to break their embrace and found a comfortable mossy mound on which to further their mating. Ryan lay back on the cool spot, grabbing himself under the back of his thighs and spreading himself open. Trevor shook his head in wonder and ambled up into the inviting space, his big prick at the ready. He spat onto his fingers and rubbed the gobs of saliva over Ryan's puffy little butt bud. His own dick was dripping wet when he took it in hand and guided it to the Irish pussy. Thrusting his hips, Trevor drove forward at the same time as Ryan bucked up against him. Both boys emitted a sigh of ultimate satisfaction as Trevor's full length buried itself in Ryan's nether regions. They remained still for a moment, relishing the pleasure of that first impalement, before Trevor took control. He started off slow, almost romantic, planting little kisses all over Ryan's cute face as his dick lazily moved in and out of the boy's foxhole. It was all a tease. First he'd give Ryan a sweet, satisfying fuck and then he'd switch gears. Soon Ryan would learn why Tyler, despite all the dick he got, always came back to big brother when he wanted a really hard and satisfying fuck.

Spiros Stavros had to take a wicked piss. He'd been holding it for a little while, but now he really needed to go. He'd enjoyed a few beers, a rarity for him. He much preferred the taste of a red wine, but on this squelching hot day those cold brewskies had gone down awful nice. And now his bladder needed some release. Spiros kept up the conversation he was engaged in with some neighbor for long as he could before finally excusing himself and elbowing his way through the crowd in search of the bathroom. Mounting the back porch, he saw his father there talking with Cathy Giagianno's dad. The two older men were seated under an umbrella, a wise decision for the both of them. Spiros would have figured they'd have retired to the air conditioning long ago. Old Nikos spotted him and Spiros gave his father a friendly nod, unable at this point to stop and chat lest he wet his shorts.

The cool air inside pleasantly assaulted him soon as he stepped inside the house. Several of the older ladies were seated around the kitchen table playing some card game. Spiros moved past them and down the hallway toward the front of the house, where he knew the toilet facilities were located. Soon as he rounded the corner Spiros' hope dropped. At least three others, two men and one woman, were in line waiting to use the john. Just his luck, Spiros thought. There was absolutely no way he could wait any longer. He was that close to pissing himself. He knew there had to be another john on the upper floor but, despite his predicament, couldn't be so forward as to venture up there. The only alternative was a quick trip to his parent's house next door. Spiros only hoped that he would make it.

Without further ado he rushed to the front door, let himself out---and nearly collided with the young man seated there on the stoop. He recognized the boy as one of the Davidson twins. He wasn't sure which one; they both looked exactly alike.

"Your Petie's dad," the cute blond said with a smile.

"Yeah, that's right," Spiros replied, already starting to sweat. "You're---"

"Tyler," the boy replied, rising from his seated position. "Petie's talked a lot about you."

"Yeah well, listen Tyler, I don't mean to be rude but," his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "I've gotta take a leak."

Tyler giggled. "Sure, go on." Spiros needed no further invitation; he was off in a near run to the house next door.

Tyler leaned against the porch railing and amusedly watched Mr. Stavros scamper off along the sidewalk to the house next door. Petie's dad certainly was a handsome chunk of man, he mused. Since the guy and Tyler's dad were childhood friends, Tyler figured him to be somewhere in his very early forties. His features were predominately Greek in nature. Heavy black brows hooded coal-like eyes surrounded by long, curling lashes. He had a straight nose and perfectly kissable lips, the lower one seductively puffier. His complexion was of an olive hue, his jaw always looking like it was etched with charcoal. The man's hair was thick and straight with wisps falling over his forehead, so black and silky it positively shone. During their short encounter Tyler's eyes had canvassed the mature man's powerful chest, covered with dark hair, and his equally hairy legs and muscular calves. From his peeping sessions through the old-fashioned keyhole of his grandmother's bedroom door, the teen knew what was presently hidden beneath those summer shorts. On several occasions he'd secretly watched his father suck and be fucked by a very nice man muscle. And there certainly was nothing wrong with Mr. Stavros' ass either. Those globes were taut and pear shaped, with tufts of dark hair peeking out from the deep split separating them.

Tyler entertained numerous fantasies while he observed the two men engage in their animalistic mating. They were both so handsome and so masculine it was like watching two hunky gladiators in a private arena. Petie's dad seemed to really enjoy eating out Brandon's ass before he fucked it raw and filled it up with his creamy thick seed. Tyler could only imagine how it would feel to have that charcoal stubble rubbing against his inner ass cheeks as the Greek tongued his young hole. In the throes of his masturbatory fantasies he envisioned both his father and Spiros feasting on his hole, their tongues working together to pleasure him and coming up every now and then to tangle in a fervid kiss, tasting his butt on each other's papillae.

So mad was he with desire that he often considered bounding into the room during one of their sessions and burying his face up Spiros' hairy bung as the dark complexioned man plowed his father's rich anus. They'd be so far gone with their own desire they'd probably do little to stop him. He'd roll onto his back and wedge himself down there where Spiros' big cock was pumping in and out of Brandon's pink ass lips and he'd lick the man's rod on the outstroke, tasting his own father's ass juices before it plunged back in. He'd have them so thoroughly aroused they'd be fighting over who got to fuck him first. Tyler would easily do them both, maybe at the same time. He'd done it once before, with his brother and one of Trevor's buddies. It had been awesome feeling two cocks, side by side, doing him as one.

Tyler snapped back into reality, suddenly realized he'd been rubbing his ass up and down along one of the posts of the railing. And his rock hard seven incher was jutting obscenely against the front of his shorts. Anyone who happened by would be instantly aware of his predicament. That might, in fact, be a good thing---depending upon who it was. He was so painfully aroused right now and desperately needed to do something about it.

Tyler saw Spiros enter the house through the unlocked front door. Most of the people on Mansgrove didn't bother securing their homes in broad daylight. Nothing much ever really happened there in the sleepy neighborhood. Tyler was almost certain the man wouldn't have reason to lock the door behind him; he was too anxious to unload his bloated bladder. With little more than a second's hesitation Tyler pushed himself away from the railing, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and moseyed down the sidewalk. He mounted the few steps to the Stavros' wrap-around porch and touched his hand to the door knob. It turned easily. Looking both ways to ascertain the coast was clear he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Spiros had made a dash for the bathroom in the back of the house, hauled out his schlong and let loose. His yellow stream came out like horse piss, splashing heavily against the interior of the porcelain bowl. He stood there for several minutes waiting for it to abate and promising himself he would consume no more beer that day. Eventually the flow turned into a trickle and he was finished. Shaking himself off he flushed the commode, tucked himself back in and turned to the sink to wash his hands. Appraising himself in the mirror for a moment, he could see how sweaty he had become from the cruel summer heat. Taking two hands full of refreshingly cold water, he bent lower to splash it on his face. It felt good. Drying his hands on a nearby towel and dabbing at his face, he chuckled when he realized he hadn't even bothered to shut the door behind him. Didn't matter much anyway with no one home. But it brought back memories of his mother scolding him for (a) not closing the bathroom door (b) not lowering the lid and (c) not flushing. With a guilty thought he turned behind him and dropped the toilet seat to its natural position.

Stepping out of the bathroom Spiros casually strolled down the hallway to the front of the house, his attention on the photographs hung along both sides of the walls. He'd seen them before, many times, but hadn't stopped to really look at them in years. His entire life was laid out there in picture, from the time he was born until just recently. The latest picture, there at the end of the hall, was a very good shot of him and his son. Spiros stopped for a moment for a closer look and shook his head in wonder. It was hard to believe his boy was now twenty-two and close to graduating college. Petie was a good looker, resembled him a lot when he was younger, except for that curly-hair he got from his mother's side of the family. Spiros' eyes grazed over his son's smooth young complexion, his wide wondrous eyes and those sweet and succulent lips which had pleasured him many times in the past few years. Up until that night Petie crept into his bedroom and, assuming his father was asleep, sucked Spiros' cock, Spiros had never thought of his son in a sexual manner. Now he eagerly anticipated his son's return visits from Florida, where he attended college, so he could fuck his boy's ass once again. Spiros was amazed at how well versed his son was in bringing sexual pleasure.

Without even realizing he was doing it, Spiros slipped a hand under the waist of his shorts and fondled his rapidly growing cock while he appraised his son in the snapshot. If Petie were to walk in the house right now he knew the boy would take him right there in the hallway without a second thought. He didn't know about any of Petie's other lovers. They never talked about it and, truth be told, the father really didn't want to know the lurid details. But Spiros remained confident he was tops on his son's fuck list.

Shooting a load would be nice but he figured he really should be getting back to the barbeque. Unhanding himself, Spiros grinned when he saw how far his shorts stood out in front from the outline of his erect cock. He certainly hoped it went down by the time he got to the Giagianno's back yard.

Approaching the door, he suddenly detected a faint rustle to his right and reflexively shot his head over in that direction. Spiros stopped dead in his tracks as he looked through the wide awning into the living room at the front of the house. Stretched out on the soda unashamedly nude, his clothes scattered on the floor, was Brandon's son---the one he'd run into just a few minutes ago. He was laying there, looking right at Spiros, with a cute innocent smile on his face. To Spiros' utter amazement the blond twin lifted his legs and, grasping himself under the knees, spread them widely apart.

Spiros' mouth gaped as his dark eyes burned into one of the sweetest young asses he'd ever seen. Those pink cheeks were youthfully firm and nicely rounded with the finest of white-blond down dusting their surface. With the kid's legs splayed open like this he could easily see the little wrinkled button nestled there in the dimple of the Davidson lad's crack. Tyler's dick was at full mast, and an impressive size it was for a teen on the verge of manhood. His soft ball bag, sporting its own coating of pale hairs, hung down between his widely spread thighs. As Spiros watched in astonishment Tyler's hand moved to the target and one pointed finger began to massage his fuck bud in small circular motions before probing it between the yielding folds of flesh. His hips gyrated on the sofa as he fingered his young ass, his eyes trained on the older man standing in the awning.

Spiros swallowed hard, barely aware that his big cock was pounding against the zipper constraining it. "Y-you've got a really nice ass there, Tyler," he managed. "It- It is Tyler, isn't it?"

"That's right, Mr. Stavros," Tyler replied breathlessly. "Tyler. And my poor little asshole really needs you to take care of it. Right now."

Spiros didn't even waste time thinking. He barely felt his legs move as he stepped into the living room, dropped to his knees in front of the sofa and ran his hands up the back of Tyler's legs. His coal-black eyes zeroed in on the tight little asshole lewdly being probed by the boy and he licked his lips lasciviously. His nostrils flared at the boy scent he detected emanating from Tyler's pretty young fucker. Reaching forward, he dug his thumbs into both sides of the peeled buns and spread Tyler's hole while the young man unhanded himself. Spiros' heart quickened as he gazed with excitement at the tiny pink wrinkled flesh spasming right there before him.

With a deep, guttural growl his tongue shot out and glided up and down the spread of young Tyler's sweaty crack. His mouth made all kinds of wet sounds as he lapped along the tasty ditch, the tip of his tongue pausing to flick over the pouting pucker. Spiros loved eating ass even more than pussy and, ever since feasting on his son's hole, found young ass to be wholesomely scrumptious. He could hardly believe his luck. For years he'd been dining on Brandon's beefy butt and now he had the son willingly at his disposal. Tyler's twitching bung hole tasted very good indeed and, from the way he was squirming around on the sofa, he seemed to really be enjoying it.

Spiros centered all his attention on the love bud now, using his thick tongue to pry apart Tyler's tingling ass ring. Tyler gratefully yielded to him and Spiros' wet tongue practically slithered up into his anus. Tyler emitted a small cry of delight when he felt the hot tongue probe as far up into him as it could reach, lapping against the fiery walls of his butt. His head snapped back against the sofa and his hips wriggled about. The boy's sphincter gripped Spiros' probing tongue, not wanting to let it out.

But Spiros wasn't going anyway. He snorted as he fucked his long tongue in and out of Tyler's dank channel. The hot young bunghole was responding to his rimming just the way he liked. It was pulsing heavily around his mouth tool, gripping him one moment and relaxing the next. Spiros had his muscle all the fucking way up Tyler's pussy with his lips locked around the open pucker. His tongue was constantly moving, a thing alive inside the boy. He sucked on the open ass hole as he probed, tasting the heady flavors offered up by the young man's sink hole. Tyler's back arched from the awesome treatment being given to his pussy and Spiros stayed with him, never releasing his tongue from the spasming hole. Just like in his fantasy, Tyler could feel the bristle from the dark Greek's afternoon shadow against his pink ass cheeks when the man's head shook from side to side as he aggressively ate him out. The young slut actually believed he could blow his nuts just from this wild tongue fuck! Spiros was eating him like a starving man offered a Thanksgiving dinner.

It was a good fifteen minutes or more before Spiros broke his face away from the teen butt. Spittle and ass juice were smeared across his mouth, cheeks and jawline. He was breathing heavily and had an almost crazed look about him.

"Now I'm gonna fuck that ass, boy," he announced hoarsely. "You got any objections?"

"Heck, no!" Tyler answered breathlessly. To prove it, he leaned back and spread his legs even farther apart. Glaring at the sopping wet fuck hole, Spiros fumbled with his shorts and kicked them out of the way. Getting up on his knees on the sofa he hoisted his big man's dick in the palm of one hand and pushed it between the slippery cheeks of Tyler's young ass. It only took one powerful lunge to bury himself to the balls in the spit-slick boy pussy.

Tyler's entire body jerked from the sheer power of the thrust. There was an expression of carnal craving etched across his still-boyish face as the hot man dick began to move inside him. Dispensing with the preliminaries, Spiros went right to work pounding his rod in and out of the hot hole. His hairy loins slapped against Tyler's smooth, sweaty buns with each downstroke. The teen had a sweet smile plastered on his face, pleased to finally be getting fucked by the handsome, hunky man who was regularly throwing it to his father. As his body responded deliriously to the fevered fuck thrusts, Tyler hoped neither of them came too soon. He wanted hot and hunky daddy Spiros Stavros to go on fucking his boy ass the remainder of the afternoon.

Joey Giagianno already had a few too many beers under his belt when the argument broke out. His lovely, but frigid, wife of only a few years hadn't wanted to go to the barbeque for starters. This wasn't really much of a surprise to young Joey; Tracy never wanted to do anything with him. She didn't want to go out to dinner, hated the movies he wanted to watch, despised bowling and had no interest in football, baseball or any other damned thing he enjoyed. But Joey, usually passive with her, had put his foot down about the barbeque. It was his brother's event---and they were going. Tracy had never fit in with Joey's family, despite the attempts most of them often made to include her. If it wasn't for the presence of her best girl friend Samantha, she might have stood her ground and nixed the entire event.

Tracy was miserable the majority of the afternoon, picking at her food and sipping iced tea in her own little corner away from the rest of the partiers. Joey refused to allow her to stop him from having a good time at his brother's bash. He participated in several game of horse shoes and spent much time in the pool when he wasn't socializing with seldom-seem relatives and his brother's neighbors.

It was around the four o'clock hour that Tracy complained of a blinding headache and announced that she had to leave. They were up on the deck on the back of the house, a virtual stage show for the rest of the guests. If not in ear shot, one could easily tell there was trouble from the way Joey's arms were flailing around and the angry expression on his face. He accused her of faking her ailment and blasted her for not wanting to come in the first place. It was unlike Joey to stand up against Tracy; the liquor served to give him some much-needed---and over due---stones. When Samantha attempted to interject, the argument turned into a battle royal.

"Joey, she really doesn't feel well. Give her a break, will you?" the ever-present girl said.

Joey turned on her. "FUCK YOU! Mind your own fuckin' business and keep out of mine."

Tracy became incensed and lashed out at him. "Don't you dare talk to my friends like that."

"Friends?" he fired back. "You ain't got no fuckin' friends except for this bitch."

"Now, wait a minute there, fella," Samantha was insulted. "Just who do you think you are calling bitch?"

"I'm havin' a conversation with me wife," Joey countered angrily. "Now butt the fuck out!"

That's when Tracy shoved Joey. Being rock solid, it did little to move him, but resulted in making things suddenly physical. Joey roughly grabbed Tracy by the arm. Samantha, coming to her rescue, began slapped Joey's arm and demanding he release Tracy. By this time big Ray had dashed up onto the deck and intervened. He quickly managed to separate them all.

"Fucking cunt never wants ta do nuthin!" Joey shouted angrily over his brother's shoulder at his wife, who huddled protectively with Samantha.

"Calm down, Joey," Ray told him. "Just calm down. Let her go." Secretly he was pleased that his brother had released some of his vent-up anger at the self-centered Tracy. Her actions were the main reason for his brother being in so much trouble lately.

Tracy and Samantha were hurriedly scooping up their personal possessions and planning to make haste away from the party while Ray blocked his brother from stopping them. Ray's father appeared on the scene and was doing his part to calm his younger son and prevent the explosive situation from becoming any more volatile.

Scurrying away from the scene, Tracy couldn't help but throw out a parting shot. "Don't you come home until you're sober," she screamed to him. "In fact, don't come home at all."

Joey lunged, but the other men held him back. "Why the fuck I wanna come home? YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO FUCK!!!"

Tracy froze to the spot, her face gone ashen with embarrassment. She tried not to make eye contact with any of the onlookers and was grateful when Samantha took her by the arm and led her out of the yard.

"Okay, okay, it's all over," the senior Giagianno announced to the guests. "Let's get back to havin' some fun." No one needed any more encouragement. The side show was over. The party resumed.

Joey was seething. His big chest rose and fell rapidly with his labored breathing. His brown eyes were large and angry and his nostrils flared widely with fury. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, causing the big muscles in his arms to flare. Veins stood out sharply at his temples and sweat poured from his brow. Ray hooked an arm around his bare shoulders and slapped him on one bicep. "Let it go, bro. You're right, she's a cunt. C'mon, don't let it get you down."

Someone handed Joey a beer and he downed it in three swallows. Reaching for another, he drank a little and then raised the bottle to pour the remainder over his head. The cool liquid drenched his thick, medium-length dark hair and cascaded down over his solid pecs and the flared contours of his wide back. Letting out a deep wail he shook his head from side to side, droplets of combined beer and sweat raining off him and striking anyone within distance.

"I'm good," he announced. "Fuck that bitch!"

Ray slapped him on the back. "That's my bro! C'mon down by the barbeque pit and hang with me for awhile."

"No, I'm good," Joey protested and, reaching for another beer, stepped down off the porch and was quickly swallowed up by the crowd.

Ray was fairly certain his brother was still reeling from the altercation. He'd never seen Joey quite that angry or out-of-control, although he could hardly blame him. Joey had put up with Tracy's bullshit for a long time and he was overdue in manning up. Ray naturally felt protective of his brother and hated to see him suffer such anguish. When he was just a kid Ray had always been there for Joey. And Joey looked up to him, almost idolized him. It seemed to Ray that lately he'd been something of a disappointment to Joey and resolved that he must do something about that. Together they would tackle the Tracy problem. Divorce seemed the most likely solution. Maybe once he was rid of her he'd get himself back on track...and stop doing those other things he'd been doing .

Between the hot sun and the quick succession of beers he'd consumed, Joey was feeling quite drunk. Having engaged in a public confrontation with his wife, he really didn't feel like talking with anyone. The Giagianno men were tough and macho; they were the ones wore the pants in the family. Every time he bumped into one of his many relatives, he wondered just what they were thinking about him. Did they think him a pussy because he couldn't seem to handle his own wife? Was he less a man than the rest of them?

Joey shook his head. He had to get out of the heat for awhile, go someplace quiet away from everyone else. But where in hell could he go? There were people outside the house, there were people inside the house. He sure as shit couldn't drive right now, so leaving was totally out of the question. As he gingerly made his way to his brother's house an idea suddenly sprung into his clouded mind. There was one place no one else could be, someplace dark, cool and private. The basement. The outside door would probably be unlocked, since that's where Ray stored all the barbeque supplies.

At the northern side of the house he clutched the railing and gingerly stepped down the three stone stairs to the basement door. Just as he suspected, it was unlocked. Turning the knob, he pushed the door inward and entered the darkened basement. The cooler, albeit musty air, instantly washed over him and almost instantly revived the young man. Enough light came through the rectangular windows around the perimeter of the unfinished basement to allow some vision. Joey shuffled over the cement floor of the basement and made his way to an area where Cathy did the family laundry. A washer and dryer stood side by side with piles of dirty laundry nearby. Joey leaned back on the dryer and ran a hand through his damp hair. Spotting the bare bulb and a dangling cord just above him, he reached one muscular arm up and pulled the switch. The bulb came to light, eerily illuminating him there in the dark.

He propped himself up with his ass against the edge of the dryer, the heel of one hand behind him holding himself steady and enjoyed the relative silence. He could still hear the music from outside and the voices of the others, but in his own private area he felt more relaxed. Joey ran one big calloused hand over his chest and felt the wild beat of his own heart beneath his sweaty skin. He cupped one pronounced mound of pectoral in his hand and squeezed it, feeling the blood rushing into his muscles. With thumb and index finger he pinched the fat, juicy pap hard, tugging at it until it stood at attention. Tossing his head back with a deep baritone sigh, he licked his lips and closed his eyes against the glare of the bulb above him while pleasurable sensations enveloped his near-naked body.

Already he could feel his cock growing inside his pants. He was always so damned horny, even in the worst of situations. It certainly hadn't been his plan to come down here into the basement and man handle himself, but now it didn't seem like such a bad idea. Maybe it was the beer inciting his libido, although he couldn't be certain. Joey was hardly the sharpest cheese on the cracker and often had a difficult time figuring out the simplest of things. All's he knew was that he was alone and enjoying the feel of a man's body, his body.

He simultaneously ran both hands over the well-defined muscles of his arms and chest. There was little doubt his already-impressive arms had grown bigger this summer with all the taxing manual work he'd done at the construction job. Those muscles seemed to come alive as he fondled them there in the privacy of the cellar. Even in the mustiness of the basement sweat was pouring from under his armpits. He lifted one arm and put it behind his head, flexing the muscle and smelling the intoxicating aroma from under his own pit. Aroused by his own scent, Joey inhaled deeply and rolled out his tongue to lick at the thick tuft of funky dark hair under his arm cleavage.

While his tongue glided over the bulge of bicep muscle, Joey hastily undid the drawstring to his bathing trunks and dug his hand down deep. He groaned when he encircled his rigid shaft with the palm of his hand and squeezed it tightly. Rubbing his thumb over the thick snout he realized he was already leaking cock snot. Joey gathered some of the precious fluid onto two fingers and quickly brought it up to his mouth, where he licked them clean and relished the flavor of his own man juice. In the space of a few short years young Joey had learned to thoroughly appreciate the exotic taste of rich man goo.

On somewhat unsteady feet, Joey managed to slide the trunks completely down his thick, furry lumberjack-sized legs and maintained a wider stance. He began stroking his shaft, thicker in the middle, and hefted his hot, heavy balls in the palm of the other hand. The muscles in his arms danced as he worked himself over. His cock felt so good, every nerve responding to his loving caress. Joey paused to run a hand over his wet torso for lubrication and jerked himself with his own sweat. He buried his face in his own arm pit again, his wicked scent a natural aphrodisiac to him. His white teeth grabbed a mouthful of thick hair and he pulled, wincing as he did so, but his cock loved every moment of it. The party going on outside and the troubles in his marriage faded from his conscious mind. All Joey Giagianno cared about was the overwhelming sexual energy running rampant through every fiber of his body at this very moment and satisfying the burning need inside him.

His thick ethnic cock was bulging, the thick corded veins beneath its erect surface turned an angry shade of purple. It wanted to blow its cork and whitewash the floor with sticky seminal fluid. But Joey wasn't ready for that yet. Hell, far as he was concerned, he was just getting started. There was something he craved more than a hand job, something he'd learned could give him the ultimate in satisfaction. Releasing his dick he turned to face the dryer, now coated with his dripping sweat. Spreading his beefy legs wide, he bent at the waist and held onto the dryer with one hand to maintain his precarious balance. Reaching through his spread thighs he ran his thick middle finger up the hairy crack of his ass and quickly found his tight pucker. With little hesitation he plunged the finger into his hot, hairy hole all the way down to the second knotted knuckle.

"Ahhhhh, yeah!" he groaned huskily as his finger began moving back and forth, fucking deep inside his body. Joey's blue collar fingers were thick, but one was definitely not enough to satisfy him for long. After a few short strokes he had two fingers ramming in and out of his hole, probing for that love button buried somewhere up there---that secret spot that always made him see fireworks. His big dick was leaking ropes of pre-cum all over the floor between his spread legs. Sweat liberally poured from his body, traveling down the indent of his lats, finding drainage in his ass ditch and providing him with natural lube. Joey moaned and groaned in his brother's basement, fucking himself for all he was worth, the troubles of the day completely forgotten.

Rick Parker observed the altercation between the young Giagianno couple with amusement showing on his ruggedly handsome face. With his trained police officer's eye, Rick could tell the young husband had already had a few too many but that was little excuse for the wife acting like a total bitch. He'd downed quite a few himself this afternoon. What the hell, he was off duty and Annette, his wife of all these years, only had the occasional glass of wine. Personally, Rick hated the shit. Wine was for pussies; beer was a man's drink. He had no problem handing the keys over to her if he felt he was too far gone, but if his wife ever pulled the shit on him like the Giagianno kid's wife, Parker would have back handed her right there in front of everyone.

Parker pretty much already knew the score with young Joey. He'd overheard enough a few months ago at Jon Kingston's place when big brother Ray came storming in ready to kick some serious ass. Parker remained hidden in the shadows and learned an awful lot about the two macho brothers and the bisexual man he'd been fucking. Kingston was a real piece of work, playing fuck buddy to one brother and coercing the other into an alternative sex life. Ray clocked Kingston one time, knocking his ass right to the floor. Far as Parker was concerned, the middle-aged player got off easy---he deserved an awful lot more. If Rick had a brother and somebody turned him into a cock sucking pussy boy, he'd have cut off the bastard's balls and shoved them down his throat.

Officer Rick found himself intrigued by the Giagianno brothers. Both of them were rugged, muscular married men, much like himself. At thirty-five, he wasn't that old to remember hearing about young Joey's successes on the high school ball fields. The kid was something of a local sports hero, much as the nephew RJ was today. And there was nothing in the slightest bit queer about the older brother, Ray. He was everything Rick believed a man should be.

Parker liked pussy and certainly got enough of it around town. There were several local ladies who hiked up their skirts whenever the gruff, macho cop came around. Weren't many would turn down the 6'3" good looking, dark haired bastard with his thick, sexy mustache. Krista Halliwell, the red-headed wife of the local supermarket owner, was probably his favorite piece of ass. Bitch had knockers on her unlike any stripper he'd ever seen---and Rick Parker had seen quite a few. Krista's husband was a good ten years older than her, fat and balding and couldn't keep up with her sexual appetites. She and Parker were an even match. Too bad he hadn't hooked up with her before he met Annette, although Rick knew he'd probably still have screwed around. He craved diversity in his sex life, a character flaw which often led him to seek satisfaction from those of the same sex.

Tough Rick wasn't into nellie queers, not by a long shot. Although, he had to admit, he'd banged a few in his career. When a man is horny and ass is offered, a man takes it. Sure he got his rocks off, but he was never crazy about those sissy types who sometimes sped through town and wound up sucking and fucking their way out of a traffic ticket. What really turned Rick on were men like himself, real macho straight guys with the bodies and the attitude to prove it. It stoked Rick's inflated ego to break that kind of man.

He was already known as a hard-nosed, no-nonsense police officer with an uncanny knack for enforcing the law outside acceptable parameters. If it weren't for the fact that his father-in-law was Chief of Police, his file would have been bulging with disciplinary action. Rick got off on being super cop; nobody messed with him. Just the mention of his name would have local thugs scattering, knowing full well the fucker had no qualms about using his billy club on any one of them. Women dropped their drawers for the macho fuck; husbands looked the other way. And the fags felt privileged to worship the majestic cock of such a rugged, masculine authoritarian. They were easy. The straight ones were more of a challenge and, upon their submission, the ultimate reward for him. Having a macho man's man bend over and offer up his hairy asshole added to Officer Rick's feelings of superiority. The butcher, the better. That's precisely why Jon Kingston turned out to be more than a one-time fuck. The dude was built like a fucking brick shithouse, muscles coming out of his ass! And he played both sides of the fence, although Rick was fairly certain the middle-aged player got most of his kicks from another man's bulge.

The Giagianno brothers were cut from the same cloth. If he hadn't heard it with own ears Parker would never have suspected either of them of being prone to man play. He figured Ray to be pretty much like himself, a top man. But that Joey, he was another story. Much as he despised Kingston's influence, he had to grin when he heard how the master had led his apprentice into a fuck by convincing him his brother was a brawny bottom. The kid wasn't too bright, but then what high school sports jock was? The mere thought of the deep-voiced muscular young man engaging in some of the acts Jon revealed had Parker suddenly very interested in the stupid stud. Which is precisely the reason he'd stepped in and helped Joey out of the jam he was in with that low-life scumbag Javier Santiago. That worthless slug would be spending many years behind bars, especially after all those outstanding warrants turned up after Parker's collar.

Scratching his sweaty ball bag through loose cotton shorts, Rick made his way over to the barbeque pit and the hunk manning the station. "Giagianno, how's it hanging?" he greeted.

"Officer Parker," Ray responded good-naturedly, offering his hand. They slapped paws together, Rick impressed with Ray's strong grip. Yeah, Giagianno was exactly his type. The ethnic stud oozed man from every fucking pore of his body. "Burger?"

Rick shook his head. "Nah, had me enough already." Nodding his head toward the deck, where all the action had taken place, he asked, "What was that all about?"

Ray snorted, "Family shit. You know how it is, man."

"Anything I can do?" Rick asked, his eyes roving over Ray's naked torso under his dark sunglasses and making comparisons between the ethnic hunk's impressive musculature and his own.

"My brother's just a little drunk," Ray stated the obvious, "and his wife's a cunt."

Rick snickered. "No shit. He shoulda dragged her ass over to the pool and dunked her the fuck in. That's what I'da done."

Ray's mouth spread in a wide grin, revealing his perfect teeth. "I like the way you think, Officer."

If only you knew what I was really thinking, Parker thought to himself. At that exact moment a young girl, maybe twelve or thirteen, came up to get herself a hot dog. As Ray played host, Parker took a swig from his long-necked beer bottle and noticed young Joey on unsteady feet making a path through the crowd. Keeping the young hunk in his line of vision he observed the beleaguered husband round a corner of the house and then disappear out of sight below ground level. Must be the basement entrance, Parker correctly figured. An amused smile played under his thick mustache.

"Catch up with you later," Parker announced, slapping big Ray on one strong arm. Very casually he sauntered toward the exact spot where he'd last seen the younger Giagianno. Sure enough, a series of steps led down to a wooden door with two rectangular windows. Stopping to look over his shoulder, Parker descended the stairs. He could see nothing through the dirty windows, only a dim light off in the distance somewhere. Carefully he turned the knob and pushed the door inward, grateful the hinges didn't squeal, and stepped into the dank interior. Closing the door behind him, Parker lifted his sunglasses to rest on the top of his head and paused for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to new surroundings. His trained police man's ears strained for any tell tale sound. Off to one side he could see the light, probably coming from a single bulb. Carefully removing his flip flops and placing them on the floor by the door, he quietly advanced on bare feet over the cool cement flooring to the dimly illuminated area.

It was slow going for him. The Giagianno family stored an awful lot of shit down in their basement, evidenced by the many crates and boxes. Parker trod carefully so as not to disturb anything---or alert his prey. Avoiding kid's bikes, chests over flowing with toys and assorted pieces of cast-off furniture he advanced on bared feet. Stepping around a set of upright leaning mattresses, which momentarily blocked off the sole light, he found himself directly under the old wooden staircase. He paused there, his breath catching in his throat. Through the slats of the stairs he could clearly see the younger Giagianno hunk less than twelve feet in front of him. Smiling lecherously, Rick folded his arms on the step in front of him and relaxed there while he watched the gloriously naked young man in action.

Hunkered down on wide-spread legs, Joey's stocky frame gleamed with a heavy sheen of man sweat under the bare bulb. It illuminated him in the semi-darkness like a spot light on stage. There was nary a stitch of clothing covering his muscular physique, even his big feet were bare. Parker licked his lips as his eyes roved over every delectable inch of impressive manhood squirming before him in the throes of masturbatory pleasures. Young Joey stood well under six feet, but everything else about him was big. He had the thick bull-sized neck and huge rounded deltoids of a professional football player. His arms were ham-sized and strong, speaking volumes about his profession. Parker's eyes roamed over the construction worker's broad tapered back, deeply indented straight down the middle, heavy muscles flexing and undulating under the tanned flesh as his hand moved in the split of his ass.

And what a fucking ass it was, thrust right out there in the police officer's general direction! Parker had never before seen such "junk in the trunk" the likes of which young Joey possessed, not on woman or man. The hunk's buns were high riding, jutting out from the small of his back like two bountiful melons begging to be squeezed. His butt was molded to geometric perfection, smooth and solid, rounding inward seductively to create the heavenly split, an extension of the unbroken line separating his flared lats. Even from a short distance Parker detected the wet trail of dark hairs poking out from between those glamorous glutes. Joey was going to town shoving two, sometimes three, thick calloused fingers up his shitter, the mounds of his delectable ass flexing viciously from the fevered assault.

Parker's gaze drifted lower, over the back of flared hamstrings, liberally coated with dark ethnic hair and calves so massive and solid they looked like the trunk of a damned oak tree. Joey Giagianno was one fine looking hunk of stud meat to Parker---and the Officer hadn't even seen the front view! He briefly wondered what that convict Javier would have done with such a fine specimen of manhood if he hadn't intervened. The fiendish hellion certainly wouldn't be satisfied relishing in the abundant appeal of the young husband for long. Parker surmised Santiago would eventually have pimped out Joey's spectacular globes for drug money---would have made a hell of a lot of cash, too!

From his earlier briefing by Kingston and the highly erotic self-love taking place in the depths of the Giagianno cellar, Parker knew Joey Gigianno was a man obsessed by anal desire. Kingston initiated him into the act years ago and, from the stories he'd revealed, Joey'd been honing his craft ever since. The pickings would be relatively easy for Parker. Quickly slipping his trunks from his hips, Parker placed them on the steps and stealthily moved around the staircase to close the space between him and the sultry jock, his big nine-inch prick leading the way.

Parker seized Joey so abruptly the young stud hardly knew what had overtaken him. One arm came around Joey's tight, trim waist to draw him close against his body while the other forearm wedged itself across the back of his thick neck. Joey was either too startled or too intoxicated to fight back against the sudden assault. With the strong arm holding his head in such a fashion he couldn't even turn to learn the identity of his assailant.

"Don't worry, Joey," the older man's deep voice rumbled close to his ear, "I'm just gonna give you some of what you really want."

Parker swiveled his hips, positioning his bobbing beefsteak at the well-worked bull's eye. He grunted, pulled Joey even closer, and thrust his weapon into the relaxed sphincter. Well lubed with sweat and spit, Joey's hot hole easily accepted the intrusion. His mushy insides eagerly opened around the huge invader which traveled in one swift motion up his anal canal, popped through the inner muscle ring and buried itself deep up in his colon. Plugged into the soft moist heat of Joey's jock hole, Parker emitted a deep groan of obvious pleasure while Joey savored the sensations of a big dick buried all the way inside him to the balls.

"Fuck me, man!" he begged, slamming one big fist atop the clothes dryer.

"You want it, boy?" Parker teased him, grinding his dick around a little in Joey's overheated fuck furnace.

"Fuck yeah!" Joey uttered hoarsely. "Go on, man. Tear that ass up good!"

"I'll fuck you good all right," Parker taunted. "Shoot my big fuckin' load up inside your hot pussy, too."

Enflamed with animal arousal Joey's tight hole gripped the fat dick firmly from within and massaged it with the muscles in his ass. He tried to buck against the macho guy, fuck himself on the man rod, but Parker had him held tight in his grasp. Parker enjoyed the way the muscular jock was practically begging for him to plow fuck out of his ass.

"C'mon, buddy," Joey was practically whimpering like a spoiled child. "What're you waitin' for? Fuck that ass!"

Certain Joey was going nowhere, Parker loosened his vice-like grip on the smoking stud and slid his strong arms around Joey's well-defined body. Spooned into him, Parker's hairy chest was flush against Joey's smooth, sweaty back and his lips were up against Joey's ear.

"Gonna show you how a real man fucks, Joey. Can you hear all those people right outside there, Joey, drinkin', eatin' and havin' themselves a good ole time?" He was roughly nibbling on Joey's thick ear lobe, causing the younger man to wince. "My wife's right out there, Joey. So's my daughter---somewhere. Maybe right outside that there door. I'm gonna fuck you right here under their fuckin' noses, Joey, your family's and mine."

"Stick it to me," Joey urged. "Stick it to me good!" A glimmer of curiosity over the identity of the cocksman crossed Joey's mind, but it quickly dissipated when the thick shaft began to move inside him. Parker began by humping Joey like a rabbit way down deep, really churning up his guts and making him grunt like a stuck pig (which, frankly, he was). Parker's plum-sized cock head treated Joey's colon like a metalworker's hammering block, repeatedly pounding against it to work him into fuck shape. He was certain Joey could feel it in the pit of his stomach each time he slammed him, but he was equally certain the ignorant jock embraced the abuse.

Altering the pace Parker abruptly yanked his prick practically out to the tip, hesitated a few torturous moments, and then forced himself back in to the farthest depths of Joey's sloppy bowels. Joey threw back his head with a manly wail as the fat dong reamed his butch ass. Parker grabbed a fistful of wet, medium-length hair for leverage and rode Joey like a horse. His big piledriver dicked the young stud with long, gut-wrenching strokes, his big, heavy balls slapping wetly against Joey's heavenly hinds each time. The sports jock had a million dollar ass hole, Parker realized, still fuckably tight despite the frequent action he supposedly got. His dick felt awful good up in there, almost like it was a perfect fit. He'd had some pussy that hadn't felt half as good.

"Fuck, yeah!" Joey snarled heatedly. "Fuck the livin' shit outa me!" Each plunge of that rock-hard prick felt like it was going all the way to his brain. The little trigger inside him was being repeatedly tapped by the strong shaft and sparking multiple degrees of ecstasy. After the public humiliation thrust upon him by his good-for-nothing wife he needed to be fucked hard, really hard. It's what he deserved. Joey had no idea in hell who his benefactor was, but this fuck buddy suited him perfectly. Could be one of his cousins, for all he knew, or a very virile uncle. Whoever the fucker was Joey hoped he banged fuck out of him until he collapsed in a heap on the cellar floor---totally fucked out.

Parker released his hold on Joey's hair and clutched on to both sides of his tight waist for support. His fuck strokes were long, but quick, pushing Joey up against that dryer and knocking the wind out of him. The muscles in drunken Joey's arms and legs were knotted and bulging as he desperately worked to maintain his foothold. Joey silently cursed, then blessed the generous girth of the other man's butt charger. He threw back his head each time the fucker plowed forward into him, his hugeness stabbing straight up to Joey's heart. His hands clutching the edge of the dryer for dear life Joey reared back against his assailant, driving that cock knob all the way up into his guts. While it was buried there he twitched his inner sanctum around the big tool, grabbing at the cock knob and providing Parker with a new, intense pleasure.

Parker continued to ride the young man hard, pounding his cock in and out of Joey's hairy male pussy. The wet sounds of their skin slapping together echoed in the semi-darkness of the Giagianno basement. Every vein in Parker's body swelled to the surface, his face was beet red from his fuck exertion and sweat liberally drained from his body. Droplets fell down to coalesce with the river of perspiration running from Joey's muscular frame. Parker never treated his guys like delicate flowers; they were men, and men deserved to be fucked like men. But the jackhamming, gut churning all-out anal assault he was throwing to Joey was one for the record books. No matter how herculean he delivered, the hot jock seemed to crave more. Perhaps, Parker thought, he'd found his match in poor misunderstood Joey Giagianno.

Sammy the mechanic was having himself a good ole time at the backyard barbeque. He ate like a cow and drank like a fish, knowing none of it would show on his squat, but strong, body. Although he wasn't part of the family or the neighborhood, the folks there were awful friendly towards him. Sometimes people were intimidated by his gruff looks and overabundance of body art, but this crowd made him feel real comfortable. He'd just come from a conversation with a guy down the street---a suit---who was having some trouble with his new Nissan. Being a master mechanic, Sammy was pretty sure he knew what the trouble was and told the dude to bring his jalopy around to the shop the next day.

Ray's sister Sharyn flirted with him openly, but Sammy was smart enough to stay away from that little twat. From conversations with Ray, he knew she was nothing but trouble. Her old man was in jail, awaiting trial on multiple drug charges. Sharyn liked bad boys and, to her, Sammy looked like he fit the bill. Truth of the matter is, the biker-looking dude was actually a real softie when it came to affairs of the heart. Maybe he'd be good for her, but Sammy wasn't going to chance finding out.

There was an overabundance of nice looking pussy wandering around the yard in minimal amount of clothing. Sammy spotted three candidates he'd like to sink his bad boy into. Before the party was over he might just have himself a go at one of them, if she was willing. The way the liquor was flowing, a little pussy might be easy pickin's. Sammy was feeling no pain himself. In fact, he was feelin' quite good from all the Buds he'd downed. He wasn't drunk, mind you, but the rough looking wrestler had a nice little buzz going on, thank you very much.

It was hot as hell and he'd stripped off his shirt a long time ago, baring all those multi-colored tattoos. The hard swell of his belly protruded over the top of his shorts. Hell, all that beer had to go somewhere! It wasn't soft and jiggly, though. Sammy's paunch was thick and firm, just like the rest of him.

Sammy looked up at the blazing sun, trickles of sweat running down from under the do-rag he'd earlier placed over his bald scalp. Sonofabitch wasn't gonna give them any relief this afternoon. Between that fucker beatin' down on him and all the brew he'd consumed, Sammy figured he needed to take himself a little siesta before he continued on with the partying. He sure as shit wasn't about to take liberties and crawl into one of the family's beds upstairs, or sack out on the sofa in the living room. Instead he found himself a nice little spot to the side of the house, isolated from the rest of the yard by a series of low-branched evergreens. It was actually shady there.

Sammy plopped down, resting his shoulders against the foundation of the house. Crossing his arms over his chest, the mechanic shut his eyes and rested. After a few minutes time he realized he wasn't going to get any sleep this way. The fucking cement wall against his back wasn't at all comfortable. Repositioning himself, Sammy laid down flat on his side, hands pillowed together under his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut, then opened with a flash of curiosity.

Directly in front of him there was a low rectangular window in the wall of the foundation. It was dusty, but clear enough for his eyes to be attracted by a single light in the darkness and a movement under that light. He stifled a gasp as he pressed his face close against the glass and saw them. Two men, fucking there under the light!

"Hot damn!" Sammy chuckled, his hand automatically going to his crotch. With a look over his shoulder to make certain no one could see him playing peeping tom, Sammy watched the action unfold. He couldn't make out who the two guys were, but one was really tearing up the other's ass hole. The bottom had muscles like a stevedore, and the top guy wasn't all that bad himself!

With another quick look to make sure he was still alone, Sammy hauled his stiff pecker out from the leg of his shorts and showed it some love while he lewdly observed the two hunks fucking like dogs. He sure would have liked to have known the identity of the bottom dude, that one was a real piece of ass. The muscle stud took it like a real fucking pro, and the top guy sure as shit wasn't going easy on him. Maybe, if he waited around long enough, Sammy would get his answer.

A long black limousine bearing the state insignia deposited Petie Stavros at the end of the block. The curly-haired Greek gave a parting wave to the figure concealed behind the dark tinted window before the car pulled away. Wiping his hand across the back of his mouth, Petie trotted off down the sidewalk with a satisfied smile.

It was only a few weeks ago he'd returned home from his third year in a Florida college, where twenty-two year-old Petie was really excelling. It wasn't exactly that Petie was some great brain, although he could carry some of the weight of his studies. His grades had more to do with his oral and anal talents. In three short years the cock whore had gone through the majority of his professors, not to mention the Dean and the campus' football coach.

Dean Krauss was a kinky old fucker, a German authoritarian, with a penchant for his students. Petie was his favorite boy toy. The old fuck had actually taken to filming their fuck sessions late in the semester so he'd have something to jerk off to during summer recess. English Professor Henderson was the lucky cameraman, sometimes Coach Webb when Henderson wasn't available. If those tapes ever got out, all would be ruined. All except for Petie, whose reputation would only widen and provide even more exciting possibilities.

He met the Senator on the third evening of his return to Jersey. Always horny Petie was surfing the sex web, perusing one of those sites featuring locales for men to meet up with other men. He discovered the local rest stop along the Garden State Parkway claimed some action in the rest rooms during the late night and early morning hours. Petie took a nap that evening, awoke refreshed and, after taking a shower, headed off to the location full of high hopes.

At 2 A.M. there wasn't all that much going on. The gas pumps got the occasional driver in need of a fill-up and the Burger King did a little business, but the other few shops and eateries were covered by security gates. Feeling a little disappointed, Petie nevertheless decided to check out the men's toilet. It was a fairly large facility, with at least two dozen urinals on one side of the partition and about half that in toilet stalls on the other side. The place was surprisingly clean; Petie could even detect the scent of disinfectant.

With his hands thrust deep in his pockets, Petie shuffled down the row of stalls until he'd reached the last one. He was disappointed to note that he was alone. Pushing open that last door and stepping inside, he'd just about to decided to post a bad rating on the place when he noticed the hole carved out in the partition between the last two stalls. Petie's heart began racing in his chest. So there was some action here, after all!

Petie's cock was already getting hard at the thought of what must taken place here during rush hour. Despite the presence of another cock lover, he decided he might as well not waste the opportunity. Shucking his shorts down around his ankles, Petie took a seat and beat his young meat while he gazed longingly at the crudely-made hole and read some of the graffiti adorning the wall. From the contributions he read, Petie was confident this was indeed a cock sucker's paradise.

He'd only been pounding his pud for a few minutes when he detected the sounds of someone else entering the room. Heels clicked on tile, stealthily making their way down the row of toilet stalls and stopping directly in front of the one he occupied. This new visitor turned sharply and entered the booth adjoining his. There was the sound of a zipper being loosened, pants rustled as they were dropped and the other male took a seat on the porcelain bowl. Petie's breath held in his throat, although his hand continued to glide up and down his excited young cock. From the corner of his eye he saw a carefully polished black shoe ease its way over to his side of the partition and tap a number of times. Petie smiled, well aware of the secret code. He slid his own sneaker clad foot over to come in contact with the dress shoe.

There came more movement from that second stall and soon Petie realized that person was hunkered down behind the partition, his pale blue eye glued to the glory hole. He smiled even more widely and displayed his big, healthy cock to full advantage. The man thrust two fingers through the wall and motioned for him. Petie eagerly rose from his spot on the commode and stepped up to the opening. Fitting his cock through the hole, he pressed his body closely against the wall. A moist warmness enveloped the length of his penis as the stranger ravenously sucked on it.

That was Petie's introduction to Senator Tim MacGreedy, a youthful-looking middle-aged husband and father of two who harbored a dark secret from his constituents. MacGreedy was a raunchy cock pig who spent many late hours in the public johns up and down the Parkway and Jersey Turnpike. His marriage was a sham, merely a device to get him into office---and keep him there. His wife was an ambitious shrew who knew full well of her husband's decadent interests but remained with him solely for the status. She harbored dreams of becoming the First Lady of these United States and MacGreedy, a respected Senator, was her ticket to getting there. However, she was concerned about his nocturnal wanderings and the damaging publicity if ever they became public. She lived in fear that some day one of MacGreedy's "tricks" would give him up.

Petie Stavros happened to come around just at the right time. Once MacGreedy had a taste of Petie he was smitten and thought of none other. His visits to public rest rooms and adult theaters ceased once Petie made himself thoroughly available to the voracious man. The State limo picked the Greek up, took him to the mansion and delivered him home once the Senator was finished with him. Petie was having a great time with the Senator, who proved to be a voracious cock pig between the sheets. In the past few weeks they'd fucked each other so many times Petie lost count. Petie thought of MacGreedy as his summer fling, although the Senator had ideas about making their tete-a-tetes more permanent. He could use his influence, he explained, to get Petie on the payroll---a State job to keep him in close proximity. The Jersey taxpayers, in essence, would be financing their affair. Although tempted---the Senator was a cool guy---Petie was mindful of his college education and that final year awaiting him in sunny Florida. But he hadn't said no. At least, not yet.

Petie heard the partiers from a distance down the block. He planned to be at the barbeque hours ago. His parents were probably wondering where in heck he was. When the Senator had called that morning he'd already had the itch up his ass and was certain MacGreedy would supply the scratch. What he hadn't banked on was the hunky chauffeur joining in and making it an ultra hot threesome.

Passing his grandfather's house he thought about stopping in and taking a quick shower, but quickly decided against it. With the sun blazing down the way it was he'd be sweaty all over again in no time. Had Petie not chosen to continue on to the Giagianno home he would certainly have found his father plugging Tyler Davidson's hungry little asshole on the living room sofa. Instead, Petie made his way through the open gate and blended in with the others enjoying a bit of summer merriment. He cranked his neck over the many heads, anxious to find his main man. And there he was! Stepping up onto the back deck with his chunky wife was dream stud Ray Giagianno. Petie kept his eye on the couple as he slowly elbowed his way through the heavy crowd, witnessing their disappearance into the house via the back door. He managed to get up onto the deck and slipped in moments behind them.

Standing there in the kitchen, where several women were lollygagging around the sink or uncovering more culinary treats, Petie was mindful of that way several years ago when he'd bolted through that same door and discovered hunky Ray just out of the shower and deliciously nude. He'd harbored a hard on for the man ever since. None of his other lovers, not MacGreedy or Dean Krausse, not Chief Webb or Professor Henderson, could ever hope to measure up to the dream stud named Ray. With a nod in the direction of the women he stuffed hands in pockets and nonchalantly wandered down the hallway, wondering just where the Giagianno's had gotten off to.

Cathy Giagianno was very drunk and very horny. Ditching her half full glass of intoxicating strawberry margarita she swayed up to her very sexy husband, threw her arms around his neck and thrust her tongue into his mouth. Ray garbled something incoherently and returned the sloppy kiss.

"Babe, what's up with you?" he asked with that cute little smile on his face which temporarily made his small mole disappear.

"I love my handsome husband." Her words were slurred. "And I want to fuck!" It was said so loudly that several heads turned in their direction.

"Babe," Ray laughed nervously. "You know I love you. But, like, right now?"

"Right now," she pressed. "I want to fuck!" The 'fuck' came out rough and determined. It was obvious she'd had an awful lot to drink, but Ray was still surprised. His wife hadn't expressed much interest in sex since her recent hysterectomy.

He rubbed big hands up and down her loose-skinned arms and met her forehead to forehead. "Okay, I'm sure not gonna argue with you about it. You know I'm always ready. Let's go." Putting an arm around her, he led her toward the house on her unsteady feet. Cathy grabbed a handful of her husband's tight ass cheeks and held onto them throughout the trek. She had married herself a sexy man many years her junior and she knew she was damned fortunate to have him.

The next day she wouldn't remember how she'd managed the stairs up to their bedroom. For all she knew, Ray carried her up there like Scarlett O'Hara and threw her across their marriage bed. Once he'd shucked his shorts Cathy took charge. Showing an amazing strength, she pushed him back onto the mattress and mounted him. Yanking down the bottoms of her bathing suit she used her hand to hold him steady and dropped her weight, impaling herself on his beautiful thick man cock. She bounced up and down, riding him for all she was worth.

Ray didn't mind a woman taking control, but he was a little concerned about all she'd drunk consumed combined with such energetic bouncing about. Grabbing her by the waist, he managed to flip her over and assumed command. His hips rose and fell, plunging his manhood into her pussy again and again. Cathy's hands were all over him, exploring every part of his upper body and raking his firm ass cheeks with her nails. She was moaning and groaning like a bitch in heat and he was concerned the aunts in the front pantry might hear her. But that didn't deter him. The opportunity for getting some of his wife's pussy didn't come along that often anymore and he was going to take full advantage of the moment.

The moment didn't last all that long. Cathy reached her climax quickly, heaving and shrieking so loudly he had to cover her mouth with his. It was fairly obvious she hadn't cum in quite a while. While he continued to sink into her moist, warm vagina, anxious to achieve his own orgasm, Cathy lay there and gradually came down from her sex high. Ray chugged onward with his jaw tightly clenched and sweat dripping from his thick brow as his cock barreled through her cozy cunt. Suddenly Cathy's hands were on his massive chest, pushing him up and off her. She sprung from the bed, readjusting her bathing suit and attending to her mussed pony tail.

"We gotta get back to our party," she announced giddily.

"Babe," Ray started, his arms outstretched in a 'what the fuck' gesture.

"Don't worry," she said in a teasing manner, "I'll take care of you tonight." And with that she was gone. Ray half expected to hear the sound of her tumbling down the stairs. And, at this point, she'd have deserved it for leaving him there with a painful hard on and blue balls. He knew full well tonight would never come. His bride would be so worn out from all the hard partying that she'd pass out soon as her head hit the pillow. Interlocking his fingers behind his head and crossing his legs at the ankles, Ray lay there relaxing in their marriage bed with his blazing erection pointed toward the ceiling. A satisfied smile was plastered on his handsome face. At least he knew his wife still had the fuck in her.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him jerk his head upward. His smile broadened considerably when he saw Petie Stavros leaning in the doorway, one hand down the front of his shorts.

"Is it my turn now?" Petie asked mischievously.

"Get over here," Ray commanded. Petie willingly obliged. His shorts were off before he even reached the foot of the bed. Ray unbuckled his ankles, spreading his muscular hairy legs open and watched amusedly as Petie crawled between them on hand and knee like a prowling tiger. Moving in for the kill, Petie ran his tongue up the thick underbelly of the heavy fuck slab and tasted the combined sex flavors of the wife's pussy juices and the unmistakably male flavor of Ray himself. He groaned appreciatively, loving the way it tasted on his buds. Pursing his lips around the huge helmet, Petie feverishly nursed while delicious pre-cum from the previously aborted sex session washed the insides of his mouth.

"Oh, Petie!" Ray moaned, running the thick fingers of one hand through the back of the Greek lad's curly hair.

Petie took a brief moment to stand back and marvel at the breathtaking beauty of Ray's gargantuan cock, strong and mighty with its network of heavy, blue-blooded veins pulsating mightily just below the surface. With a bestial grunt he opened wide and impaled his face on all nine glorious inches. It wasn't a slow, gradual descent. Petie swallowed Ray whole in one fantastic gulp. Ray dug his body into the mattress below him, wriggling his hips and trying not to launch himself into the ceiling. The little fucker knew how much he loved a good deep throat suck job and Petie was obviously armed to please. He looked down his smooth, muscular body to observe the handsome Greek's face turning a shade of scarlet, the veins in his temples bulging as he pressed his pretty pink lips into the wealth of dark pubic hair. Petie's neck looked like the body of a reptile that had just swallowed its prey, still alive and throbbing inside him.

Just when he thought the kid would surely suffocate on his huge cock Petie slowly came up, inch after soaking inch slipping from his widely-parted lips. Freed, the majestic cock slapped against Ray's taut belly, oozing even more pre-cum. Petie took hold of the thing and gave it a few loving strokes.

"You love that shit, don't you, big man?" he asked with a knowing smile on his cute face.

"You know I do," Ray growled testily. "Now stop fucking around and get me off. I've got a party to get back to."

Petie smiled again, knowing the big man wasn't about to go anywhere just yet. His tongue lazily glided around the heavy ridge of the corona, swiping over the deep slit time and again to reward himself with some tasty man goo. Ray was obviously all sexed up, his big man's body wriggling all about on the sweaty sheets from Petie's oral delights. Petie went down on him again, only half way this time. Locking his lips around the thick shaft he proceeded to give the love of his life a masterful blow job. Up and down he went, his head tilting from side to side as he worked the heavy shaft from all angles. At the crest he paused to nibble at the bundle of nerves tucked just beneath the head, causing Ray to grasp handfuls of bed coverings and rock his head from side to side. Petie knew he was making his lover see stars, but wasn't ready to allow him to cum. Not quite yet.

Abruptly, Petie rose to his feet and straddled the manly groin stretched out below him. His own prick leaked a rope of clear pre-fuck which dripped down onto Ray's massive chest. With a determined look he squatted low, knees flaring out to either side, until he felt the top of the huge prick touch his butt cakes. Ray's hands took hold his trim waist to steady him as he reached around to find the big cock and maneuver it to his sweaty orifice. Certain it was in place he pulled apart his smooth butt cheeks and forced himself down on the awesome ass stretcher. Inch after inch of man cock slid up into his hot hole, already slick with the residue of Senator MacGreedy's earlier deposit.

Petie's talented ass swallowed every inch of the hard shaft until he was sitting back on Ray's hairy upper thighs. Ray's eyes were glazed over with lust. Not wasting a moment, Petie started bouncing up and down on the bountiful boner, sighing each time it reared against his overactive prostate. Ray's hands were tightly clasped to Petie's waist, fucking his stiffer up into the boy's channel to meet his rise and fall. They were both grunting and groaning, their bodies encased in man sweat despite the cooling air conditioning in the room.

Petie's ass felt moist and warm around Ray's man cock and much tighter than his wife's pussy. The boy's hips were picking up speed, riding him with a new intensity. His ass moved up and down, back and forth, taking Ray clear up into his colon. Ray's big cock purred with pleasure when the slut took him deep as it would go, then seemed to try for more. The inner walls of his sloppy ass were kissing Ray's sheath, expertly milking him. There was a crazed look in Petie's eyes, a look Ray had seen before. The fucking kid was high on his cock! The only thing that would bring Petie down was to fuck him into climax.

Just as he'd done with his wife earlier Ray sat up, grabbed Petie by the shoulders and shoved him over onto his back. Quickly he slipped in between the young man's thighs and shoved his monster back home. Ray slammed the entire length of his hard cock into the tight, willing ass. Petie grabbed hold of Ray's firm muscular arms and dug his fingers into the firm flesh. His curly head rolled on the pillow as guttural sighs escaped his parted lips.

Ray pounded deep into the hot twitching ass. His lips were pulled back from gritted teeth as he used all his strength to fuck the life out of the Greek. His dimpled ass rose and fell mightily, his balls slapped against Petie's hinds. Petie was in a state of ultimate euphoria, his earlier fuck at the hands of the Senator only a warm up for this spectacular event. They were both caught up in a frenzy of primal, bestial fuck lust.

Petie came so hard and so loud that Ray had no choice but to use a pillow to muffle the sound. With Ray pumping like a mad man into his asshole, Petie shot clots of gooey cock snot all over his chest. The first powerful shot hit him right under the chin. His balls ached like he hadn't come in a week when, in actuality, he'd given the thirsty Senator some afternoon protein only an hour before.

The friction from Petie's spasming fuck chute on his mighty missile quickly kicked Ray over the edge. As his body tensed and his breathing came in short gasps he sunk his club deep up Petie's fuck hole and let loose with a long overdue load. His big strong body trembled as spasm after spasm ran through it and hot creamy jizz flooded Petie's ravaged rectum. Politicians sperm comingled with blue collar cum in the Greek's well-fucked bowels.

Ray fell atop Petie, both of them panting from their wild exertions. Petie's hands wandered along Ray's muscular arms and over his strong, wide back. He enjoyed embracing the masculine man in the aftermath of their randy sex romp. Petie could feel the big macho stud's heart beating against his own chest and the warm, pleasing breath on his face. Slowly Ray began to regain his composure. Sliding his hands under Petie's shoulders he lay with his bigger body over the Greek boy's smaller frame and searched his face as if seeing him for the first time. Petie's breath caught in his throat when the married hunk unexpectedly pressed his lips to Petie's and slid his tongue into his mouth. Petie hungrily returned the much desired kiss.

"That was great, Petie," Ray spoke deep and seductively, his fingers tracing the good-looking Greek's cheek after their lips had parted. Both still maintained rigid erections which pressed together in the humidity of their joined groins. "I've got a question for you. Promise me you'll answer." He ran the tip of a thick forefinger across Petie's lower lip.

"Anything," Petie gushed, sucking the finger into his mouth and treating it like a small cock.

Hesitating briefly, Ray came out with it. "Have you and my brother, Joey, ever fucked around?"

The scent of male sex was prevalent in that tiny corner of the basement where the two husky men engaged in a brutal session of corn holing. Joey Giagianno's sphincter muscle had long ago given up its feeble attempts at elasticity and was wide open to the all-out assault by Officer Rick Parker. Parker hammered him unmercifully---but Joey wasn't complaining. Men were tough and, Joey figured, he had to be tougher if he wanted to play in their fuck league. Getting his hole wrecked had made him forget all about his cunt of a wife and her leech of a friend. The big dick pummeling his love button was all his liquor-infused mind was centered on at the moment.

Parker was impressed with little Joey's stamina. Hearing Kingston's tell-all, he'd already known Joey was something of a power bottom, but he hadn't expected this. Every time he turned things up a notch Joey seemed to rise to the occasion. Parker couldn't think of anybody who'd have taken a fuck like he was giving to this muscle jock. He was really enjoying delivering such a power fuck and having it received so willingly. This was one for the fuckin' books!

As their sweaty flesh collided Parker reached around and grabbed hold of Joey's swollen man tits. Joey had nice ripe nubs sitting on his mounds of pec muscle, nearly as big as some of cunt's tits Parker often felt up. Whereas women wanted their girls treated nice and gentle, guys were different when it came to titty pleasure. Parker squeezed Joey's big paps, rolling and pinching them between his thumb and index finger. Joey reacted instantly, whipping his head back and yelping masculine satisfaction between clenched teeth. Parker's big hands roughly kneaded Joey's beefy pecs like he would a whore's udders as he continued to plunge his cock into the young stud.

Despite the near-savage assault on his asshole, Joey was continually pushing back to meet Parker's strong thrusts. He seemed eager to fill himself with all nine inches of the other man's loaded weapon. His ass was a wide open trench, willingly accepting all the fucker had to give him. His swollen, interior membrane clung to Parker's rod on the withdrawal, then was violently shoved back inside. Parker kept fucking in and out of Joey's abused hole, his bloated ball bag slapping loudly against the other man's flesh.

Parker could hear his heart beating in his ears, felt the blood rushing at his temples, could feel every taut muscle in his body bulge and knew he'd reached the limit of physical endurance. Grasping Joey's waist again he roughly slammed his cock meat deep one last time and shouted as bursts of fuck juice came pumping out of his cock head and splashed against the burning walls of Joey's rectum.

Joey felt the hot cum erupting inside him. That's all it took to trigger his own release. His ass clenched tightly around Parker's buried treasure. Every muscle on his hard bodied physique tightened to glorious, award-winning perfection under a glistening sheen of man sweat. His entire frame shook and with a hearty gasp he shot his load. It splashed against the front of the laundry machine, soon to be joined by a second and third. Gooey jizz glided down the front of the machine while Joey's fat dick pumped out more, less forceful surges of sweet cum.

When the jock came, Parker was a bit nervous his prick would be ripped off at the root the way that muscle ass clamped down on it. Now loose again, he took the opportunity to extract himself from Joey's pleasurable jock pussy. He chuckled to himself; he hadn't had that good of a fuck in a long, long time. The young buck had nearly worn him the fuck out! Nearly.

As Joey remained there panting, still in fuck position, Parker pressed his body into the muscle jock and took hold of his big pecs once again. Fondling them roughly one last time, he whispered huskily into Joey's ear, "They say we're here to protect and serve."

Now, Joey was certainly not the sharpest knife in the drawer. But even with his handicap, combined with the effects of the drunken afternoon, his mind was able to wrap around Parker's words. Looking over his shoulder, he stared right into the handsome, mustached face of the man who'd just fucked him silly.

"You!" he managed. He couldn't think of his name, but Joey knew he was a cop in town. A cop most people were wary of.

"You know where to find me," Parker said, stepping back from the boy and shaking off his cock, "whenever you need it again." And then he disappeared into the shadows. Seconds later Joey saw a flash of light as the door to the outside was open. He fell to his knees shakily, bewildered and thoroughly fucked. His mind tried to process but all he could think about was that big cock ramming up his hot hole, making him feel so fucking good!

His eyes focusrf on his own load running down the front of the dryer and Joey leaned into it, rolling out his parched tongue. He took a tentative swipe at the spent cum while his hand diddled between his parted legs. Soon he was panting madly and lapping up every drop of his own load while two fingers plunged in and out of his swollen ass. There never seemed to be enough for Joey Giagianno.

Sammy nearly cratered when the little muscle jock turned around! Joey, the brother of his buddy! He never did get a clear view of the bigger man fucking hell out of him, but that one didn't matter. Sammy's exposed cock was throbbing like the sole dick in a whore house full of pussy. He uttered a "hot damn!" when the dark haired jock started scarfing up his own spooge and frigging his own ass. Cripes, after the pounding he'd just taken one would think he'd be plum wore out! Well fuck, Sammy thought, if he's still in the mood . . .

Rising from the lawn, Sammy tucked his erection back into his shorts as best he could. He knew anybody looking at his crotch would easily see he had a hard on to beat all hard ons. He quickly scampered over to the stairwell leading to the basement. Nobody gave a fuck what anybody else was doing, he figured, so he just dropped down the steps and let himself into the bowels of the house.

It took his eyes a little while to get accustomed to the darkness, but he knew the general vicinity where Joey lay in heat. He spotted the light he'd seen through the window and made his way towards it, heart pounding in his barreled chest. His feet moved of their own accord, propelling him around all the junk stored in the basement. He was powerless to stop himself, possessed by an unquenchable fuck lust. If there was pussy to be had, he wanted his fair share.

Emerging from the shadows, Sammy found himself directly in front of the younger Giagianno. In the short space of time since last he'd seen him, Joey had hoisted himself atop the dryer. He was leaning back, thick hairy legs tucked in and parted wide while he savagely finger-fucked his oozing asshole with one hand and flogged his fat dick with the other. The kid was so absorbed in his flagrant wanking he failed to even notice the other man standing only a few feet away from him. Recalling the spat between the married couple earlier and Joey's drunken accusation towards his wife, Sammy realized the young buck wasn't getting any sex at home. Poor Joey was so deprived it had driven him to this!

Sammy quickly stepped out of his shorts, fully aware of his raging hard on. Giving it a few warm-up strokes he stepped up to the clothes dryer and the heavily perspiring pussy stud mounted atop it. Joey was so far gone he failed to even notice Sammy until the masterful mechanic shoved his thick, squat middle finger clean up into Joey's cum-slick fuck hole and worked it around inside him. With his drunken eyes seeing double images Joey shook his wet head, sending a spray of sweat droplets this way and that, and tried to focus. What he saw was something looked like it stepped out of a road-side carnival. The bald dude had a face like a hound and tattoos on nearly every inch of his body. He was built like a wrestler with a hard, rotund belly and a cock that made even Joey cringe. Not that it was huge, but the girth of the thing was downright shocking! Joey blinked his eyes again, certain he was hallucinating. He'd heard the myth about beer can's width, but that thing with the huge apple-sized head really was as thick as a can of fucking Bud!

"How you doin' there, Joey boy," the short, stocky man asked with a twinkle in his eyes and a knowing smile plastered on his bull dog's face.

Joey was at a loss for words. He just lay there, massive chest rising and falling heavily, and stared back at the apparition. Sammy slid another one of his fat fingers into the stud's hot ass, his nails filthy with oil and grease from the shop. Unable to control himself, Joey's eyelids fluttered and he moaned from somewhere deep in his chest.

"You ain't gettin' no pussy at home, are you boy?" Sammy asked knowingly. Joey bit his lower lip and nodded his response.

"Healthy boy like you should be gettin' pussy all the time," Sammy declared. "But since you ain't, I guess you found another way to get yourself off. Now, haven't you?" His fingers worked slowly, in and out of Joey's abused ass lips. After the rough fucking he'd just taken, it probably felt good to have somebody love him nice and slow, Sammy figured. Not as if that was about to last for long.

"You know who I am, Joey?" Sammy asked slowly, seductively. Joey squinted and shook his head. This one's dumb'r 'n a bucket of nails, Sammy thought. Prob'ly how he got involved in all this male fuckin' anyways.

"Sure you do, Joey," he went on, his fingers digging deep and coming up with volumes of warm cum.

"I-I dunno you," Joey managed hoarsely. Kids got a real deep voice on him, Sammy thought. A man's voice. Who'd'a thought a macho little fuck like this would be taken dick up his ass? Oh, this is gonna be real fuckin' good!

"I work with your bro down at the shop. You seen me there couple'a times, Joey," Sammy reminded him. "It's me, Sammy. Sammy the mechanic. Worked on your truck once or twice."

Recognition flickered in Joey's brown eyes.

"Don't you worry none, Joey," Sammy assured him as his fingers continued to slide in and out of the loose fuck hole. "I ain't about to tell your bro what you been up to down here. In fact, I'm about to get me some for myself. That okay with you, Joey?"

Joey looked down at the immense prick pulsing obscenely under the glow of the single bulb and bit his puffy lower lip. The baseball-sized head of the thing was gleaming with fuck fluid nastily bubbling from its gaping piss slit. He wasn't all that sure the fucker would even get inside his jock ass. As buzzed as he was, taking that thing might hurt like hell. But then he thought about it filling him up and pressing upon that ultra-sensitive button buried in his hot hole, whatever in fuck it was up there that made him jump like a rabbit and shoot like a fire hose, and Joey knew he had to try.

Sammy smiled when he saw the desire wash over Joey's handsome face. The horny little construction jock was more than ready for some more cock. Extracting his digits from Joey's male pussy Sammy scooped up some of the previous occupant's cum and coated the length of his fuck tool with the thick jizz.

Wide-eyed, Joey's big hands grabbed hold of his furry legs behind the knees and pulled them to the sides of his chest. His ass hole, dripping wet from the fuck it had just taken from the police officer, was wide open and hungry. Sammy pointed his cock at the quivering hole and bore down upon it.

Joey let out a beastly growl when the huge helmet spread his sphincter and slid inside him. His pussy lips reflexively attempted to clamp shut but the massive girth of the invading prick defied them. Sammy just kept on shoving into the well-fucked sink hole until his hefty prick was engulfed up to his big, hairy balls. He grasped hold of Joey's thunderous calves, holding the younger man's hefty legs steady and slowly pulled back until only the meaty head was preventing the slimy ass ring from shutting.

"You want it, Joey?" Sammy taunted with a wicked twinkle in his eyes. "You really want it, boy?"

Sweat ran in rivulets down Joey's handsome face and his eyes were wild with unbridled lust. "Fuck it," he panted. "Fuck that ass."

The sound of Joey's deep male voice commanding him to commit such a scandalous act was a complete turn-on for the raunchy mechanic. Without hesitating another second he plowed forward again, plunging the entire shaft into Joey's hot rectum and began wildly fucking him. Joey's muscular body jerked from the sheer power of the thrusts. Equal waves of pain and pleasure surged through his husky body as he submitted to the powerful assault on his ass. The bald beast drove his weapon of ass destruction deep, creating wild sensations throughout Joey's mushy bowels. The younger man's rock-hard, rippled stomach flexed with each savage thrust and he feared he might burst like a smashed Halloween pumpkin from the ass-splitting thickness of the thing.

Heated sounds of their bestial male mating echoed throughout that area of the basement. Sammy was really enjoying his taking of such a hot male pussy. Joey took it like a real man, working himself past the pain and allowing himself to enjoy the ultimate in buddy bonding. It made Sammy's prick pulse even stronger to note the way Joey's full, puffy lips quivered each time the fat dick was pulled back and how he visibly trembled when the massive club dove back in with full fucking force.

Joey's hard shaft was looking out at him across his muscular torso and leaking spoon's full of clear jizz onto his heaving stomach. Sammy noted that Joey wasn't shy in the dick department either; his healthy male cock had an awesome thickness to it, flaring widest about midway up the heavy shaft. Sammy knew an awful lot of gash that would gladly spread their thighs for a hot rod like Joey sported. Just to see how it felt Sammy wrapped one oil-stained hand around the thing, impressed to learn he couldn't make his fingers meet. Joey's cock swelled and throbbed in his palm as Sammy fucked into his hot, jerking ass. An even stronger stream of pre-cum oozed from the fat head. Feeling totally barbaric, Sammy scooped up some of the slop from the stud's belly and shoved his fingers between Joey's lips. Joey hungrily scarfed his joy juice from the chubby, dirty fingers of the mechanic. Amused and aroused, Sammy retrieved some more fuck lube and fed it to the hunky jock.

Sammy's fuzzy balls slapped against Joey's smooth, tight ass cakes each time he fed him the full length of his ferocious tenderloin. His thrusts were primal, not sensual, causing sinewy musculature to ripple under Joey's tanned skin. The fat rod rubbed against Joey's tender ass guts, churning up everything inside his ass. It pounded his prostate again and again, making Joey almost delirious with sexual bliss. He squirmed and moaned, fists pounding against the top of the drying machine, as the massive shaft hit different pleasure points inside him.

Tattoos danced on Sammy's perspiring body as he pounded his thick fucker into Joey time and time again. He could feel his balls tightening and churning, roaring to the bursting point. Joey's hungry asshole was grabbing at his cock, almost sucking it in by itself. The sensuous thrills were quickly overtaking him and he knew he couldn't hold back much longer.

As he pumped his big, luscious cock log deeply into the muscular stud over and over he suddenly felt Joey's body convulse with ecstasy. The entire channel of Joey's sweet ass tightened around him and the jock's torso began to heave violently. His eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth went slack and with a deep sigh of release Joey shot a geyser of hot sticky cum clear over his head. Sammy watched awestruck as another blast splattered the hot jock right under the chin and a third coated the mountains and valleys of his chest.

A ball's bursting orgasm suddenly overcame Sammy. Gnashing his teeth together, face contorted in bliss, he ground his cock deep up Joey's fuck hole and flooded his insides with scorching cum. His eyes were glazed over with lust as his body convulsed again and again, jet after jet of hot semen white-washing Joey's spasming colon. He couldn't ever remember cumming so hard before; it was like the strength was being drained right out of him. His stubby toes curled and he stumbled forward against Joey, chest heaving from the intense power of his release.

They remained interlocked for several minutes while they attempted to regain their breath. Sammy rotated his hips and ground his organ around Joey's sloppy bowels. The young stud was filled to over-flowing with salty seed from the two virile men who had taken full advantage of his lack of sobriety and fucked him senseless this afternoon. The handsome husband's ass guts were still massaging his prick with after-fuck muscular contractions and Sammy could have sworn the guy was ripe and ready for another round. Problem is, Joey had plumb worn him out.

Joey's stretched asshole grabbed hungrily at the can-sized cock when Sammy tried to extract it from the pleasurable pussy. The obscenely-sized head came out with an audible popping sound. Cum leaked from Joey's distended anus, the folds of his lips gradually returning to their former shape. He lay there, legs still spread and inviting, while his massive chest rose and fell heavily.

"That was fun, Joey," the tattooed mechanic announced jovially, shaking cum deposits from his slowly deflating member. "Let's do it again sometime."

Either too fucked-out or too fucked-up, Joey was beyond responding. All the pent-up anger he'd experienced earlier in the afternoon had been assuaged at the hands of the two men. He was completely relaxed, thoroughly satiated and enjoying the aftermath of some great buddy sex. He turned his head to see the short, bald man disappearing into the shadows of the basement.

"Wait!" he attempted to shout, but his voice was far too hoarse to project to the departing stud. Sliding his overly used body off the dyer, Joey lay back on a pile of unwashed clothes and ran his hands over his drenched torso. He toyed with his big, gum-drop nipples, squeezed mounds of pec and ran work-calloused fingers over the indented ripples of his abdominal muscles. Soon he found his prick, which was once again rising to the occasion. Stroking it lovingly he lifted both hefty legs and zeroed in on his abused ass hole. Cum was freely oozing from the target, making it easy for Joey to shove three fat fingers inside. Before long he was again fucking himself with one hand and jerking his rod with the other, awaiting the anticipated next visitor to his basement bordello.

Who might it be, Joey pondered while he scooped out some steaming cum and let it drip from fat fingertips into his mouth. Perhaps the latest toy his mother had acquired. Joey'd already fucked one in Sonia's long procession of male objects. Curtis, wasn't that his name? Her new flavor of the month looked a bit more manly than the last and might have some reciprocal fuck buddy potential. If not there was a yard full of others out there. Men with big pricks could reach way up inside him there and flip that fuckin' switch that always drove him fuck crazy. Ever since Kingston first touched that button Joey couldn't get enough of it. Right now Joey didn't much care that Kingston was in dutch with his brother for all he'd taught him. If the big middle-aged fucker came into the basement right now he'd make Jon ravage his hole despite the consequences. Being such a fuck whore without any kind of conscience, Jon would tap him.

As the clock ticked by the combination of sweltering summer's heat, overindulgence in alcohol and highly aggressive sex took its toll on the superstud. Joey's dark lashed eyelids grew heavy. Much as he tried to fight, much as he wanted to tackle the next fuck buddy, he ultimately lost all control and drifted off into a deep sleep. His naked body curled up into the bundle of unwashed clothes as visions of numerous cocksmen fucked him into submission again and again.

It was Jon Kingston who found him there several hours later. Concerned over Joey's disappearance from the barbeque and the presence of his beat-up truck still parked out front, big brother Ray enlisted Kingston's aid in searching for his missing brother. They took on the search and rescue mission by themselves, opting not to alert anyone else. About a half hour into the investigation, Jon discovered nude and cum-encrusted Joey sleeping it off in the basement. Crossing arms over his big, muscular chest Jon had to chuckle at the delectable sight. So this is how the sexy jock chose to confront his latest marital problems. Jon was engrossed in his own sexual explorations with gorgeous Mario when all the hoopla went on, but Ray clued him in to the family argument. Squatting down in front of the younger stud Jon observed the cum still leaking from Joey's reddened ass hole and the volume of stuff staining the clothing below him. The older man was certain this wasn't the result of one fuck; Joey had taken on at least two party-goers---if not more! Kingston wondered who the lucky men were. He was tempted, albeit briefly, to unleash his growing hard-on and have a piece of unconscious Joey for himself.

In the end Jon did his best to wash the young buck down. It took some doing to find his minimal clothing in the semi-darkness, but he gained eventual success. Certain as he could be that everything looked copacetic, Jon went to retrieve Ray. Bigger brother came to the safe conclusion that Joey merely wandered into a dark place to pass out. Gathering the muscular hunk into his big arms, Ray carried the fucked-out jock up the stairs and deposited him in the guest bedroom where Joey snoozed until late into the next afternoon. He awoke with a banging head ache and sore ass hole. Reaching beneath the covers and under his shorts to touch his enflamed bud, remembrance of the afternoon's activities slowly regenerated in his groggy mind. It was the police officer, the mean one in town, and the bald-headed tattooed mechanic had buddied up with him.

Joey no longer cared about Tracy Kim. There was no chance of making a go of their marriage. She was a selfish cunt wanted only want she wanted and cared nothing about him. From now on Joey would do what he had to do to satisfy himself regardless of the consequences to their sham of a marriage. He would no longer hurry home after work full of expectations that things would suddenly be different. Hell, no! From now on he was stopping at Bud's Hut at the end of the shift and getting his rocks off in the back room. He wouldn't care who in hell it was or how he got it, just as long as he blew a load. It would make up for all those times over the past several years he'd wanted to make it with his bride---but she wouldn't let him.

This dawn of this day had seen the rebirth of Joey Giagianno---and he was fighting ready to take on the entire world!