"SUMMER HEAT" from the files of TABOO TOPICS (714) 240-8480
It was late on a Wednesday after noon in downtown Phoenix. The mercury in the thermometer was toying with 110 degrees, not quite sure whether it would inch its way that last little bit or end the day at only 109. It was a strange kind of summer day after a long string of strange summer days that were either too hot or too dry depending, in all probability, on just how much of the rain forest had been cut down that day in a little who-knows-where country in another hemisphere.
I didn't care much about humidity, heat or the rain forest that Wednesday afternoon. All I knew was that it was hot. Fucking hot. It's the kind of weather that makes me want to rip off my clothes and dive totally naked into the nearest body of water or, when I'm lucky, the nearest body.
It was one of those afternoons and the condominium pool was the site of the nearest body of water. I looked out the wall of glass that separated me from it and saw the ugly slash of brilliant white cement sitting there, dry as the parched skull of a longhorn laughing at me as the sun burned brighter and hotter. Yes, it was just one of those days.
Without really thinking, I pulled myself out of that hot room with nothing but sneakers, faded jeans, and a sweat-stained T-shirt separating me from years worth of painful skin cancer and walked right into the force driving my life, that heat.
I headed in the direction of a new park just opened a block or so from the complex. It was a beautiful thing, really, that park that was responsible for uprooting hundreds of homes that had stood silently for decades. A mile long stretch of grass, desert trees that were finally beginning to provide shade, a couple small lakes, a new municipal library, and a long, winding, concrete pathway lined part of the way with fountains shaped like waterfalls over which thousands of gallons of water rushed.
These interconnected fountains were often filled with young children of the poor or homeless whose only daily bathing was there. Sure, park security tried to discourage the use but with weather like this how could one human really deny such a basic thing to another? Yet, strangely, today the fountains stood empty, filled only with thousands of gallons of water rushing over and through them.
A bit of shade had cooled a small concrete bench a few yards from on end of the fountain where I sat, obscured by the shadow of a giant bridge. As I relaxed onto the hard concrete bench I got that feeling, that eerie feeling when without even looking you know you're all alone. I looked around and discovered I was right. I had to myself the entire park as far as I could see.
I stretched my long legs in front of my body as I leaned back against the bench. I closed my eyes and let the cool, slight breeze play over my eyelids as I savored the momentary relief from the beating sun. The sound of the water washed away the faint din of traffic from the roads not far away, and lulled me into a feeling of being thousands of miles away in a lush tropical forest.
I opened my eyes at the sound of a clatter and turned toward the source of the sound. I saw the back of a young man who had dropped his ten-speed onto the concrete. He stood there, a few inches shy of six feet tall, in blinding white painter's overalls with a white T-shirt underneath. He had slipped off his white sneakers and stood in stocking feet a couple yards from me.
I sat and watched from my obscured location as he turned his head of blond hair the color of which only comes from weeks of swimming in chlorinated water and letting it dry slowly, naturally in the heat of the sun. His hair was thick, well styled, but looked natural. I could see the tanned skin of the back of his neck as his head turned one way and then the other checking, I supposed, to see if he were alone. For some reason, he never looked behind him to where I sat in a shadow growing longer as the sun approached the horizon.
As I watched the blond man who I supposed to be a student at the college a couple miles from the park, he reached up his tanned, well-muscled arm and pulled off one shoulder strap allowing the coveralls to bunch up around one side of his slight waist. He unsnapped the other and allowed the front and back panels to fall. He slid the coveralls over the slight swell of his thighs, past his knees and to the concrete ground. He stepped out of them.
I felt a growing tightness in my jeans as I watched him bend forward, lifting first one leg then the other as he pulled off the white tube socks that had bunched around his ankles when he stepped out of the coveralls. His long, graceful, tanned legs were stark contrast to the blinding glare from the concrete. He stood straight, his lean body covered only with the T-shirt and his white underwear.
I twisted my hips just enough to loosen the strain. My cock emanated a heat so intense I thought the sun was shining directly on my crotch. I lifted my hand and began gently caressing the bulge as I watched the blond man step, with the careless abandon of the young, into the fountain and, bending his knees forward, kneel in the cool water.
I watched without moving as he let the water flow onto his back, the muscles showing as the cotton absorbed the fresh water. He tilted his head backward and drenched his full head of hair. He then turned around and splashed water onto his front where the swells of his chest, the well-defined but not over-developed muscles that marked him a swimmer, appeared through the cotton T- shirt.
Although no sound was heard, he gasped and quickly turned his eyes directly toward me as if realizing for the first time he had an audience. He froze, the rushing water the only movement within miles of us.
I heard my voice say: "Don't let me interrupt. Please continue." To my surprise, the young man did just that, slowly splashing water on his chest, his face. Then he stood, moving closer to the falling water so that it splashed his long brown thighs.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" he finally asked.
"You are a beautiful young man," I replied.
There was a slight pause. A wisp of wind diverted the path of the waterfall. The young man stepped out of the fountain with two easy, precise steps and stood, water dripping onto the concrete where it seemed to evaporate immediately.
Almost as if in slow motion, he lifted one foot and walked in my direction. He stopped, just beyond my reach, the softening sun illuminating his face and chest, the lengthening shadow of the bridge covering him from mid stomach tothe ground.
"What about me is beautiful?" he asked.
"It would be a shorter list to tell you what isn't."
"Do you think I have a nice face?"
"Yes."
He lifted his hand and rested it on his chest. "Tell me what else you think is beautiful."
I sat silently, feeling my heartbeat pounding in my crotch, the painful tightening as my balls ached to be released, and smelling the water evaporating from his body. Finally, I spoke. "The way your shirt outlines the muscles of your chest and the small bulge where your erect nipples strain at the cloth," I said, feeling a patch of wetness begin to spread against the cotton of my jeans.
"And?" he asked, almost playfully.
"The way the sun causes rippling shadows over your stomach muscles, and the way they pulse as you breathe."
He stepped forward slightly, the sun illuminating now only his eyes which I saw for the first time were the clearest, purest forest green I had ever seen.
His smell, the hot chlorine smell, the faint musky smell of his sweat, the earthy smell every man possesses naturally, filled the air as I realized his body was close enough to touch merely by lifting my arm. "The way your legs look in the reflected light, the curve of your neck as it emerges from the T-shirt."
"Anything else?"
"The swelling rise of your cock and the small bulges of your balls in your underwear."
He lifted the front of his T-shirt, pulling the bottom over his head where it remained, framing his squared chest muscles that were smooth and hairless. He stepped out of the sun and was now so close to me I could feel the heat emanating from his torso.
"If you want them," he said, his voice barely a whisper above the wind, "they're yours."
Slowly, I sat up and leaned toward him. I felt my cock grow even bigger as the jeans loosened around my crotch. I placed my fingers inside the elastic band of his briefs and eased them over the bulge of his cock and left them around his knees. I leaned forward and took the head of his cock into my mouth without touching it or him. As I moved closer, his soft cock filled my mouth. I turned my body to line up with his (and try to ease the strain on my cock) and lifted my hands, placing them lightly against the two globes of his ass.
He gasped at the touch, and I felt his cock growing inside my mouth. I ran my hands down the back of his thighs pulling him closer to me and easing apart his warm soft legs until my forehead touched the small trail of hair that marked the direction from his belly-button to the patch of yellow-blond pubic hair.
As I moved his hips back and forth allowing his cock to go all the way to the back of my throat and then out again, I lifted my index finger toward his hairless ass hole drenched with sweat. I had no trouble easing my finger into his waiting hole just far enough to feel the muscles there grab hold of it. He moaned softly.
We kept that position for a long time as I savored the taste of his cock filling my mouth, my throat. I smelled him sweating in anticipation. I moved my index finger just enough to stimulate him further. But even this bliss would not last forever as I felt his asshole grab my finger tightly, the head of his cock growing even bigger, his breath coming heavier and more swiftly until I felt the warm semen as I pushed my face even closer to his stomach to force his cock all the way to the back of my throat, and my face into his moist pubic hair.
He tried to pull away, but I teased him by running my tongue around the giant head inside my mouth making his body shudder, making his ass grab my finger more tightly. After a moment, I released him.
I looked up and saw captured in that moment the sweet, innocent look we so often lose with the advent of adulthood, the peaceful look possessed only by children as he stood, eyes closed, his mouth moist, his face flushed with the moment.
He turned and looked at me, "Is there anything else you want, Daddy?"
I knew exactly what he meant, so I leaned back again fearing that any stimulation at all would be enough excuse for my straining cock to unleash its load inside my pants.
He moved closer as he removed his underwear, and placed his strong hands on my knees. He knelt down, pushing my knees apart, and reached up to unbutton my fly slowly, very precisely.
He tugged at the waist band while I lifted my ass from the cool concrete bench. He pulled my well-faded jeans over my hips releasing my blood-filled cock which, by now, had grown larger and thicker than I had ever seen it before. My balls were loose in their sac, but pulsing in anticipation as his tanned hands gently pushed my jeans down.
I closed my eyes and felt the moist warmth of his mouth close over the entire length of my cock. He used one hand to gently caress my balls, the other to caress the nipples burning under my T-shirt. He lifted his mouth and nibbled the swollen red head of my cock, then lowered it to consume every inch of my cock.
It wasn't long before I was straining vainly to hold back as the stream of cum shot out of my cock and down his throat. I heard him murmur something that I could not understand as he pushed my cock to the back of throat and swallowed the cum that shot out for what seemed like hours.
I opened my eyes and saw him stand. I tried to sit forward but he put his hand on my shoulder and motioned for me to stay right where I was. Again, he put his hands on my knees still covered by my jeans, but this time he pushed them together. He stepped forward, placing one leg on either side of mine until he had moved right up to the edge of the bench. He bent first one leg then the other, moving even closer to me as he knelt on the bench.
He leaned closer and kissed me, gently, then rose to his full height.
He lifted his hand to his mouth and spit out a mixture of saliva and cum some of which he used to massage my still rigid cock, the rest to line his hairless pink hole.
He spread his knees a little, then placed his hands on my shoulders as he lowered his body to just above my giant red cock head which got bigger with each pulse of my heart.
Lowering his body the rest of the distance, he centered his hole right above my cock and sat on it, allowing a little time for the swollen head to pierce through the muscular sentry. As he sat down the rest of the length of my cock, I felt myself enter a world unlike any I had ever felt before, a raging inferno of moist heat, a constricting room that pressed tightly against my cock.
He sat, motionless for a moment while my cock surprised me by growing bigger as the blood was forced inside. Using his strong thigh muscles, and balancing himself by holding onto my shoulders, he moved slowly upward until my cock head alone remained inside this private heaven. He then slowly moved down until he had the entire shaft of my cock packed firmly into his warm ass. He continued this pattern without change. He never sped up or slowed down, merely drove me insane with the soft velvety feeling of his tight hot ass.
Taking his lead, I spit into my hand and began massaging his partially hard cock. I worked his head, then the entire length of the shaft until he returned to the giant size I knew so well. He continued his measured movements as I continued massaging the ridge around his cock head, watching it grow more pink as the blood rushed inside.
I soon felt my own cock head growing larger and my balls tightening as I knew I was very close to coming inside this bronzed god, so I hurried the pace of my massaging until his breathing told me he was also close. I controlled the pressure on his cock to coincide with my own explosion. His first line of semen shot past my head, the second right onto my chest, the third onto the side of my mouth where I got it with a few licks of my tongue. I was coming so hard inside of him I swear I could hear it hitting the moist walls of his hot ass as I shot again and again, my balls draining from the pleasurable torture of his knowing control.
He stood and I asked if he wanted to return with me to my condo. He said he had a class that night and couldn't. I reached down, retrieved his underwear and held it open for him to step into. I lifted it and secured it around his cock and around his hairless ass behind. I reached up, lifted his T-shirt from around the back of his neck, and lowered it to its proper position.
He turned and walked to his bike and coveralls, where he dressed, stuffed his socks into his shoes, tied the laces and slung them over the handlebars of his bike.
He mounted the bike expertly, Before moving off, he turned and looked at where I still sat and smiled, the light of the street lamp atop the bridge casting an innocent glow onto his face.
I sat there for a long time after his figure disappeared down the sidewalk.
Was it really a chance encounter or had he seen me all along on his approach to the fountain?