The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
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SuPReME CouRTsHiP 03 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Holding the speedo up by a fingertip, James let it dangle in the mirror image, the bluish color set against the black and white of his suit, shirt and black tie. Staring himself down, eyes gazing through the brown-rimmed glasses, he finally cracks half of a smile, saying, "I guess it's not going to be just another Friday night!"
Reality setting in, Friday was nearly the same as any other day of the week, except weekends, which replicated the evenings of the other nights, setting aside James would not be at the end of an attorney's day, more or less a Saturday into Sunday sleep-in.
Then again, he looked upon the wardrobe colors, thinking of the similarities; work, after work, dull evening going over court cases or reading some Shakespeare, catching up on the financial news, sleep, maybe a quick jerk off somewhere in between, if a handsome face or bod in a magazine or on the tube caught his eye. Comparing all that to how this Friday turned out, all the major and minor characters involved, Tim, Aaron and lastly, `William’, he dwell a second or two on the last memory in mind.
A slap against the woodwork of the door, it startles James out of his reverie, "Hey! What's keeping you?”
"Uh, nothing," James replies, turning around.
Stepping inside the doorway, William says, "You're not shy, are you?"
Not shy, no, but not sure, James offers, "Un, no, but I do feel a little funny being here with..."
Again, the feeling of `knowing’ sweeps over William, "I know. I kind of felt weird too."
"You do?” James wondered, factoring in the 10 year difference of their ages.
"It’s sort of like Tim and his dungeon."
He knew this was leading to something. Just, all the pieces of the puzzle weren't in place, "And like how does that go?"
"In the dungeon, when the guys get together it's all fun and games, roleplaying people we want to be. When we’re not in the dungeon, we are people who we are.” Rolling his eyes, William says, "I think that's what I meant to say."
It sounded simple enough in theory to James. He had to think on it to grasp the idea, but for now, “Sounds logical to me.”
"Like I wasn't at all `shy' changing out of my clothes and into my speedo, because we're not like at the court house. We're here, at home. We should be casual about each other."
Simply put, James smiles as more of a feeling of calm comes over him. He did have thoughts of his profession, the implications of hooking up with the elevator kid and wondering what others would think, a 29yo guy even dating a 19yo college dude.
Thinking on `dating', his own thought, he smiles, coming up with, "Well then, since we're supposed to be so uninhibited, what would you think about helping me get out of these clothes and into a speedo?" James holds up the skimpy blue garment.
If William got any more stirred up, he would be busting out of his own speedo, replying, "Uh, like where should I start?"
With all elements of the real world shucked out of existence, James invites, “Where would you like to start?”
"Not sure," William pans James' physique, from face to crotch and back.
"Hold this," James begins to make it easier, taking William's hand, slapping the speedo down to the teen's palm.
Intently seeking skin, William watches James remove the suit jacket, smiling at the pull of the shirt, two little pointy nips indelible through the fabric.
Even though he lives very much the dull life, James hasn't left a void where sex is concerned, that is before moving to town 6 months ago. For the duration he has dove into his work and work encompassed most of his time, which usually happens when jumping from job to job, especially diving into unknown territory.
Right now, forgetting everything, he heeds William's words, dropping his jacket over the computer desk chair, going for the knot in his tie.
"Um, would you mind, if I..."
"Go to it, lad!" James awards William the title for his youthfulness.
"Okay, `sir'!"
They smile at each other, William's loins pushing him onward, taking the tie in his hands.
Both looking upon the deed, they happen to look up at the same time.
Perhaps more experience at being tender, James leans forward, taking a taste of William's lips. After doing so, he says, "I hope I wasn't being pushy?"
"No," William replies. "We're not at the court house. We can be whatever we want to each other. Right?"
"Deep," James replies, feeling the knot of his tie slip down. "How did you get to be so smart with your words?"
"Tim. He taught me a lot of stuff. He even showed me some ways to take care of myself. He's a good fighter, you know?"
"No. I didn't know that, or that about you,” James joking, "Good thing I didn’t take advantage of you in the elevator!"
As he said it, he had to `look up', William going at the collar button of his shirt, "I wouldn't have fought you off!"
Peering down over his cheeks, through the bottom of his glasses, James replies, "Is that so?" More or less, he sensed it like being given permission, moving both hands to touching William's torso, a hand on each hip.
There were only a few inches between them, William going on to the second shirt button. James dropping his chin, they connect eyes, each smiling.
"I..." he was ready to single James out, as being the one and only, the first, but then Tim's face came into the picture and doing a quick edit of his feelings, "`almost' never had anybody do that to me."
"Oh, so you're `not' a virgin, then?"
`Virgin?' Putting pieces of his thoughts together, welding them with what he supposes James' intentions could be, William says, "I've never been fucked. You want to fuck me?"
A little chuckle precedes James' response, "I hadn't planned on it. What ever happened to our swim?" he quickly switches the subject.
"Well, if we can ever get you into that speedo!"
Backing off, removing his hands, James puts them to work unbuttoning his shirt, scolding, "No offense, but you're much too slow, William."
With multiple meaning, William says, "My hands aren't as fast as yours!" he watches James unbutton the last button of his shirt before pulling it from his pants.
Allowing the shirt to flap open, James taunts William from the parting of the button side from the button holes.
"Looks good so far," William says of the thick, curly, reddish-brown hair mid chest, the skip of smooth skin, then another mass starting about 2 inches above the navel. An inch below, the hair meets James' belt buckle.
Resulting in James' hands tied up with stretching his shirt backwards over his own shoulders, William made a step forward, hands reaching for his belt.
Saying nothing, James allows the 19yo to unlatch it, William saying, "Tim taught me this one."
"Oh so I'm `not' the first naked man to be with you?!"
"We did some stuff, but he didn't fuck me, if that's what you're driving at," he reminds, at which point, William pulls at the unlatched belt buckle, yanking it through the loops, removing it from around James' waist.
He awards William with, “Fast worker!" Already dropping his shirt behind him, not as neat as with the jacket, James stands there, looking down. Briefly he looks up, but returns his eyes to peering down the front of himself, saying, "Like what you see?"
When Tim tutored William in the `art of gay lovemaking’, he gave him the uninhibited, forward techniques, the teen following through with subtle approach, instead of going for the crotch, places both hands on James’ hairy pecs, "I like these."
"Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!" James sighs, dropping his head back, "You had a good teacher!" he tilts his head back to watch William's hands at work, palms flat, but index fingers and thumbs to the sides of each nub, pleasurably kneading them.
"You have sensitive nips!"
"Uh, yeah," James bit his lips, replying, "but not too hard, please?"
William backed off, sliding his hands down James' stomach.
"Um, aren't you going to like, finish?" James stood there, hands on hips.
Casually smiling, William reached forward, undid the zipper, purposefully pressing in, “Hard," he comments, going for the button.
James quips, "Hardly!"
True to James’ assessment, when William unfolds the flaps and pulls down on the pants, he had to work the slacks over the bulge, asking, "What are you... a nine? Ten?"
"Eight, five and three quarters... I measured!” he smiles.
“Me too... well Tim, he helped me measure. He says it's good for a man to know how big he is."
Lightheartedly, James replies, "And what you packin' there, sonny?" With the stuffy atmosphere disappearing, James felt comfortable to tap William's package with the back of his hand.
"Nine and a half!” he sticks his tongue out in a snobbish manner.
Getting even, James takes manners into his own hands, parking his Fruit-of-the-Looms under his balls, "Oh, you want to lick?"
It coming to William, "You want to play top'n'bottom?"
Thinking it humorous, James laughs, "Top and bottom?" Then mellowing out, moving closer, "I thought maybe we would start out as equals and see where it goes?"
William welcomed the hug and since he measured up to James in height, about an inch difference, their faces matched up. It felt mighty good too, hugging each other, like boyfriends, their bare chests, stomachs and shoulders pressed against each other, William sensing it strange, James' bare cock and balls pressing against his speedo, the experience heightened by compression of briefs under balls.
Breaking off their first `long' kiss, accompanied by James feeling up William's speedo, he says, "I think your 9.5 is showing!"
"Not yet!" William comes back with, his speedo confining himself with restrain, doing as James has done, moving the elastic so it snags his balls.
His pants at his ankles, James says, after his eyes partake of `William', "I better get out of these before I trip and fall backwards onto the bed... Oops!" he falls backwards, bouncing a few times.
Splayed out on the bed, James assumed a comfy position, elbows up, hands clasped behind his head.
“I like the position. Tim would call it the beginning of a sex slave,” William laughs, but holds ulterior meaning.
Feeling risque, James replies, "I ‘like' Tim's idea!"
Neither said `who' would be the sex-slave, a pause making each wait it out!
All day long in court, James held the upper edge, knowing the protocol one follows in dealing with clients, judges, colleagues and above all, has been drawn favor over the dismissal of quite a few cases with those he represented. This has worked to his advantage, in a few cases against him, things like cops tired of having to show up in court, only for misdemeanors being decidedly not in their favor. However, he's made a couple of `friends' with some local parents, with the acquittal of a few high school students, regarding ticketing.
His thoughts are interrupted, "I've never played with a guy, like Tim likes to have fun?"
He lay there, stripped down to his briefs holding up under his balls, shoes and socks still keeping his pants at bay around his ankles, James casually saying, "What kind of fun would `you’ like to have, William?” Of course James was giving up reserving of rights to top.
William, ever since Tim mentioned it, liked the sound of the words, "Want to be my sex slave?"
He smiled, James silently thinking, `oh shucks!’ However, the humor of the situation, he didn’t perceive giving up his tongue to William as a life and death struggle. From the hint of muskiness in the elevator on many a days, James asks, "By the way, you didn't happen to take a dip in the pool waiting for me?”
"No, but I should take a shower or something. I kind of," William lifts both arms, “reek?"
He sits up, lops shoes, socks and pants off all in one clump, James saying, "Well I can't think of a better way than breaking a sex slave into submissiveness than grinding pit hair into his face!"
"Um, like you didn’t get it?" William watches intently, like ninety percent of his pubes weren't in full view, eyes on James’ prize, as he says, "I said I need a shower?"
Like ignoring the facts, William's underarms smelling like day old `bO', James responds, his nude bod turning around, stretching legs out towards the bottom of the bed, arms reaching towards the top, grabbing at the two wooden bedposts, “How do you want me? This good?"
Walking over to his bed, William just gazed from head to toes and back, "I dunno. You look good!"
Nodding his head, like being `man in charge', James says, "You want to even us up?"
Not getting it, William replies, "Even us up?"
"Yeah. Ditch the speedo?" he looked dead straight at William's crotch, nuts appearing to be swollen.
"Sure," William inserted thumbs. Not out of being shy to further the unveiling, but nervous about doing it for any man, he worked it slowly down his legs, right, then left, right, left, right left leg, till he had to step out.
"Sexy!" James titled it, a slow striptease!
A light scathing of dark hair over William's pec, his fuzz became much more pronounced as it thickened midchest in a tiny patch. From where the stripe originates, passing between William's sixpack, it darkens with profuse display, then hesitates slightly for the bellyhole indentation, a shaggy stripe painted to what now lays bare, dark pubes, spread wide from thigh to thigh.
Playing him up, James gives in, "Oh man, William, you really know how to make a slave hungry," licks lips, "yum!"
New to this, it shows, William laughs, then gets semi-serious, "Hey, you want to call me `Master Bill'?"
"Sure... Master Bill!”
"By the way," William keeps James’ attention from focusing on his face, "do you have any limits?"
"Limits?” James licks his lips, seeing the barrel of William's 9.5, buried in fur.
"Yeah. Tim says you gotta ask a guy that before you start playing around."
Forgetting about pain’, all James can think about is pleasure', "Oh man," he again acts up, "I can't wait to get my lips on that juicy sausage! Limits?" he laughs, "What limits?"
Question answered!
As with James initially, William works on his dialogue skills, "Do you like meatballs too, slave-boy?"
It made James laugh, breaking code, "Sure. Bring `em closer and I'll show you how much I love'em!"
Dropping in half to pick up his speedos, William bends over, picking them up, breaking off James' view, the lawyer peering over the shaggy haircut, right up the back, to the parting ass.
Some kind of spell coming over him, in the past, James had thoughts of dividing and conquering, but William, probably his age having much to do with it, James salivated, wondering if his tongue would pick up on any hair fibers, running along William's ass crevice!
"All set. Now, what about my pits?”
Pits?' James questioned himself, since his tastebuds longed for ass'. Not wanting to skip a beat, James replies, "Oh right, yeah, pits. Bring'em on! Mm-m-m-m-m!" James physically licks his chops, wiggles his eyebrows.
It was awkward, mainly because it was only the second time William crawled onto a bed with a man atop. Though, he drew off his first time experience, like kneeing onto the side of Tim's bed, following instruction to swing one leg over, Tim telling him to allow his cock and balls dangle down, keeping an eye on the guy lying down under him, making sure he `notices'. As with James, it was a cinch!
"Oh yeah!" James coaxed him on, his chin touching his chest.
Next phase of Tim's plan, William advances, doggie-walking up James' bod, their cocks colliding.
"Oh fuckin' yeah!" James calls out, his head smashed into the pillow, eyes squinting for a moment.
It makes William smile, another one of Tim’s fun facts’, making his victim want', by touching and feeling. Feeling really good about all this, tingling sensations giving him the shivers, William performs another one of Tim's tricks, taking his and James' cock in one hand and giving them both a little stroking.
"Dammit, William!"
"What?" William stops.
"Don't stop!" James demands back.
Back to the stroking, William asks, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. In fact..." they stare at each other, "everything's just... perfect!"
Forgetting about all the other stuff, William does an all out pushup, lengthening his bod by sliding his feet out to where James' feet are at the foot of the bed. "This any better?" he asks, his crotch falling onto James' hairy cock and balls, pec to pec.
"Now what?" heads the only place not touching.
"Stick my pit in your face?" William moves his right arm.
Not really into it now, James replies, "Um, can you think of something else?"
"I could," William replies, leaning on James' chest with elbow, while his hands carefully remove the brown specs!
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Up the road, Aaron notices as they cruise by the old picnic grounds, “The chain is down?"
It made Tim slow down, swerve a little to the side of Old Route 15, saying, "Hmm... I wonder?" he puts it in reverse gear.
Even though he had just given up his load, sending it down Aaron's throat, Tim could always churn it up for another go around.
"I think I see something," Aaron says, the vehicle traveling up the gravel road, through some hefty bushing. More than thoughts of sucking down Saul Wolkman's cock, Aaron hadn't been allowed to come, Tim making his sexdrive more important. Though, not having a run-in' with the lawman before, from how Tim spoke, he knew how it could feel when Saul was in other moods, the long arm of the law' forcing it’s way past his ass ring!
“I see more than `something’!" Tim parks.
Because he could do no wrong when it came to a certain cop on the force, Tim already had it in mind what he was going to do, before he got to the two shirtless, depantsed men.
“Here, boy!" he tosses his shirt to Aaron.
Catching the shirt, Aaron folds it into whatever shape makes it compact. He picks up Tim's sneakers wherever they are shucked.
Jeans stepped out of, one leg at a time, Tim hauls them up by the belt, sticks the pants right to Aaron’s chest.
Stepping right up behind Saul, totally uninhibited by the cop's bulky bear size, nor social position, draws a fist back and punches him in the lower back.
"Akh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-oh-h-h-h-shit-Tim!" he yells out, knowing only one person who would pull a stunt like that.
Tim laughs his ass off, knowing he's ruined a perfectly good fuck!
“You asshole!" Saul screams at him, his 10c of fat lard, all wet and shiny, jutting out in front of him.
Tim kept laughing, moving over to where Saul stood behind the biker. Taking Saul's cock in hand, Tim grabs where the base meets hairy pubes and pulls towards himself, "Thanks for the lube, pig!" he uses the excess to grease up his own tube.
"Fuck you!" Saul replies. He could have been mighty upset at Tim, but won't dare risk the chance of being crossed off the guest list of Tim's dungeon parties. Instead, he turns on Aaron, "Well, what the fuck you still have your clothes on for, boy?"
"Me? Cool!" the college sophomore replies. It wasn't a new A&F tee shirt, Saul tearing it from the collar, down. Aaron didn't weep over it.
Two things turned Saul on, sex and then what could get things moving in that direction, "Working out at the gym, have you, boy?" Saul felt up Aaron's rigid, hairy sixpack.
"Yes, sir?" Aaron licked his lips, hoping this was leading to some intense `workout'.
“Got some rope in the trunk. Why don't we see if we can workout those abs some more?"
Aaron had his priorities. When it came to Tim, other than working his cock up into a frenzy, he loved Tim to work over his balls. When it came to Saul, a man who worked out himself, Aaron always had visions, fantasies, of a muscle man of Saul's status, working his core with his fists as a huge turn. To make sure he would get what he wanted at the completion of a hot-fisted butt workover, he hints, "Uh, you didn't like, come yet, did you?”
Hauling a bundle of rope out of the trunk of his patrol car, Saul replies, "I'll worry about that boy. You just get those clothes off and dump them in here."
Heading off into the woods, Aaron worked fast.
He hears from not far off, "Oh and bring the red tool chest!"
His motorcycle-boy's ass was tight... real tight, so Tim took the opportunity to interrogate his victim, finding out name, where he was from and other nosy facts.
"I'm on vacation."
Finding out his bike-boy was into bdsm, "What did you call me, boy?" Tim drove his point home, his hips heaving forward.
Even though it felt so awesome, Tim's cock pressing further up his ass channel, the dude shrieks a sharp, "Ak-k-k! Sir! Sorry, sir!"
Tim loved it. He could tell without asking, his sex-captive, securing a first name on the initial jab of his cock past the tight ring, `Flint', into more broader subjects.
Under more duress', Flint confides he is a 39yo army vet, on a cross country trip to nowhere'.
Abruptly, after finding out more into, Tim pulls out, reaches in between Flint's thighs, grabs any soft flesh he can feel, yanks the back of Flint's head by his long locks, "Get up boy! I ain't ready to come up your tight ass, yet!"
Upon grabbing up Flint's balls, it was enough to hold in his hand, releasing, but not before feeling the hard shaft bounce off the back of his hand.
"Pants, boy!"
Flint, in an effort to get a start on his trip, left the army base as soon as his discharge papers were signed. Therefore, he was stepping back into his camo pants.
Tim was ahead of him, but of course he thought of Aaron, beating his balls because his pants and shirt were disheveled in a heap and not folded neatly. He soon forgot all that stuff, shifting his attention, eyes on Flint, stopping him in the nick of time, "Not the shirt, boy!"
"Yes, sir,” Flint pulled his arm out of the regulation shirt.
Still barechested, Tim walks over to him, amazed a little at how quickly they started up this clandestine relationship, with little talk on subject matter or preference.
Flint stood at rigid attention, just like he did back at the army base.
“I think you and I could have some fun working over this bod of yours?" Tim got right to the gist of things, placing a hand on Flint's shoulder, swiping his palm down the hairy pecs, stopping to tweak a nip.
He was joyed to hear, in the positive, "Yes, sir."
With the background info, "I was thinking of taking on a new slave?” It didn’t occur to Tim he wasn't talking roleplaying, a deep down feeling, right now not separating real from fiction.
Of course Flint was allowing his cock and balls a say in this matter. With no family, a fact he hadn't revealed, alleviated from responsibility with the armed forces, which he had communicated, he replies, “I think it would be a good change for me, sir."
It's one of the reasons he signed up for the army in the first place, right out of high school. A 21 year career, he not only learned a trade, engineering, in the course of several transfers, has met some very nice men into bdsm, grooming him, giving him some hot experiences.
Taking Flint's shirt from him, he tells him to turn around. "Hands behind back," Tim orders.
"Yes..." Flint paused, knowing, once his arms were bound together, what he summed up as Tim's next move, he would be not only be physically bound, but by his word, “sir."
A short bit of comment, Tim says, “I think we can be a big mutual benefit to each other," the taste of bondage, discipline and ‘ass’ on his mind.
Flint's only comment, feeling his own shirt being tied around his wrists, "Mm-m... yes, sir."
But he had to untie Flint's hands. Tim couldn't get the motorcycle into the back of the truck himself. Too heavy to lift, Flint came up with the idea of rolling it up a log. It worked. Getting into the truck, Tim forgot to retie the shirt around Flint's wrists.
Meanwhile, Aaron’s wrists, tethered together with Saul's rope, shot up towards the sky, the rope thrown over a branch, Saul putting the finishing touches on securing it to a tree trunk.
"Hey! Look what I found!"
Aaron looked down, Saul holding a round rock in his hand, him saying, "Yeah, nice. It'll pack a powerful punch," Aaron hints.
"That too," Saul replies, turning to his red toolbox. He yanked out in one long stream, three chains attached to a leather collar.
"Hell, yeah!" Aaron yells, seeing the ball parachute.
Not much up on the role-playing, all which mattered to Aaron and Saul were what turned the sadist and masochist on.
Aaron voices opinion over the narrow collar, strangling the space between his balls and cock, “Gr-r-r-r!" he gritted his teeth.
"Yeah, I thought you would like it," Saul slaps the long side of Aaron's extended cock with his hand.
Enough to sting, Aaron howls, "Ow-ooh-h-h-h-h-h!"
Always testing, Saul replies, "Of course, would be more fun with a leather flogger!"
Thinking on it, Aaron knows Saul will love it when he learns he can tie a lace under the flange of his cock, stretch it out and then whip it with a harsh leather strap!
"Um, like how are you going to hang the rock from the parachute?” Aaron asks.
"Rock? Parachute? Nah. Plan on using this baby," Saul tosses the rock in the air and catches it, "to turn your abs to mush!" he laughs.
Like it's nothing, Aaron replies, "That's cool."
"Sorry. Must've forgotten to puts the weights in here," Saul comes back with a hammer.
Every man has his limits, Aaron saying, "I don't know about the hammer, Saul?"
"Relax!" Saul takes it, hanging it on the edge of the strap at the bottom of the ball stretching device.
Even though the hammer made his balls sag more than two weights Tim would drag his balls to the floor with, Aaron sighed, the pain making his cock twitch.
"Now that you're having your fun, time for me to have mine!” Saul rubs his hands together, before spitting into the palm of one.
In order to line things up properly, Saul needed to lower Aaron's bod, so let loose the `winch', rope tied to a tree branch and allowed him to sink towards the dirt.
"Oh bummer!" Saul exclaims, the handle of the hammer touching ground, falling `kerplunk', right off the ball harness. "That's no good," Saul summed up the situation, standing there in front of Aaron, looking at the two globes, a little swell to them.
"Yeah, and you know what?” Aaron says with glee.
"What?"
"Did you forget about turning my abs to mush with your stone?" the 21 year old laughs!
He did, but to admit it, Saul sidetracked his thoughts, "No, I didn't forget, Mr. Smarty," he pings Aaron's cock with a swat of his hand.
"Oh-h-h-h that stings," said like it stung. It did sting. But it felt good too, him mellowing out, "Ah-h, so good!"
"You're almost as sick as I am!" Saul jokes.
With Aaron hanging by his wrists, balls strangled by a leather cuff, Saul picking up the stone he dropped, anyone would think this guy is in for it and should be fearing for his life. But no, as could be seen, Saul placing his left hand on Aaron’s right pec, bringing his right elbow back and heavy his hand holding the stone into Aaron’s solar plexus...
"Ugh-h-h-h-h-oh-h-h-fuck!" Aaron belched.
"Another?" Saul laughs.
Inhaling, readying to exhale, Aaron replies, "Don't ask, dammit! Just do it!"
What a tease Saul could be, the muscle bear holding his fist up to Aaron's abs, moving his knuckles around, like he was massaging the hairy stomach muscles, then joked, "What's that up there?” he looks to the sky.
"Up where?” Aaron fell for it, looking up to the top of the trees.
Saul laughed his ass off, a quick sucker punch delivered right above Aaron's bellyhole.
"Hugh-h-h-h-h-h, you bastard!" he seemed to exhale his guts.
Still giggling, Saul says, "Oh man was that a fuckin' good one!"
Forget his still bound balls, a little weight added from the cradle, and even though Saul pulled a fast one on him, it was all good. However, impatient, "Can you like drop the stone and use both fists, like Tim says you do with other guys?"
Throwing the stone up a little, catching it, Saul replies, "Hey, who's running this scene?" He changes temperament, "What else did Tim tell you about me?"
"I'll tell you sometime," Aaron says boldly. "Why don't you toss the rock and get with the gut punching?"
Saul didn't like the idea of being told what to do, but also he wanted like heck to get off. Knowing he didn't have to' gut punch Aaron, there was something in the college dude's eyes, a sense of yearning, like he knew he’s been there, so badly wanting to have a set of balls or nips to play with, a hot back to flog, cock to slap around and where Aaron's specialty’ lay, gut punching his built up abs, he couldn't refuse, "Alright," surrendering, tossing the rock, but not over his shoulder, right at Aaron's pubes!
Without saying, he went right to work of Aaron’s abs, heaving fist after fist into the sixpack wall. Every three or four punches he would stop and ask, "Okay?"
For the first twelve or fifteen, he lost count, Aaron replies, "Feels awesome...” followed by another punch.
Aaron wasn't getting all of the zap out of it, Saul every few gut-punches, feeling his cock up and when he found it on overload, precum extracted by his fingertips. He would offer the salty nectar up to Aaron's lips.
When Aaron's head began to sag, Saul picking it up by his shaggy hair, he knew it was time to switch off to his favorite part of `the scene,' even though Aaron badgered, "I... haven't... had enough,” between intakes of air.
Being there wasn't enough room for the ball parachute to swing, nothing other than the hammer to hang from it, Saul removed it. Trying to do so, his shoulder picked up sweat from Aaron's cock, the salty residue clinging to him. He caught himself, returning the parachute to the toolbox, crocking his head to the left, licking his own shoulder off. It didn’t deter him for long, his cock longing for tight ass and soon he was behind Aaron. Since the muscle jock had plenty of `slime' on his skin, Saul used it to his advantage, lubing up. Too, the crevice slick, he had no problem sliding in.
"Oh-h-h-h-h-h!" Aaron let out a single syllable.
All too soon though, Saul was party rockin' Aaron's ass in the sling of his bondage and reaching around front, made sure, when the time came, he wasn't the only one feeling relief!
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William didn't hold back. For right now the moment didn't have anything to do with bondage, discipline, giving or taking, nothing about top or bottom labels, nor roleplay.
With Tim, it was forcing himself through the motions of kissing a man, himself in James’ place, back to the bed, Tim breaking him in, goal to provide his first ‘love affair'.
This warm moment was nothing like then. Now, William wasn't like Tim, not forcing lips to kiss or harsh feeling up of hands. He didn't have to think about his palms gliding over shoulders, pecs, stomach and beyond. Everything was natural and not coerced.
Though, he was surprised when the tables were suddenly turned, remarking when James bowled him over on his back, "I thought `I' was supposed to be the sex-slave?"
Lost in the euphoria of the time continuum, William could only smile.
Also, James wasn't giving him much time to react, hovering over William, his lips going right at his original destination, lifting an arm and licking over the musky pit.
Wet over his sweaty pit, more so now after the ten minutes of sweet love-making, William arched his back. He hadn't realized, what he thought of as `gross', could be so sensual.
It wasn't tough at all, wetting down Willam's hairy pit and smiling, feeling a pair of hands almost ‘clawing' his back. He thought, from experience, `wait till I get to your chest, boy!'
Way too horny for `pits', William presses against James' shoulders, gets his attention, "This isn't working."
"It isn't?" James' jaw dropped open in wonder. Right now he could taste `pit', a mix of sweet, but mostly sour, thinking that was it, William wanting him off his bod, clothes on and out of there. Such was the horror, making James' heart suddenly beat fast.
"I know this sounds crazy, but can we like suck each other?"
"Suck each other?" James replies, his mind still on `it over'.
Thinking he’s rushing it, “Am I moving too fast?"
Smiling, James replies, "Too fast?" he gets up on all fours. "Not fast enough!"
Having `been there, done that' move than he can count, James takes the helm, turning his bod around so his balls dangle over William's face. He dictates the order nicely, "On your side, please?”
Everything moves into place, like the pair has rehearsed it for opening night on Broadway, bods lining up, approximately chest to stomach, William's taut abs to James' hairy pecs.
Not a stranger to the position, James takes William's cock in hand and feeds it to himself like an Italian sausage.
William stared for all of many seconds, then as James had done and upon feeling a wet mouth on his cock, slowly embedded the hard tool, slipping it in on his tongue!
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Copyright 2012 T. Chase McPhee
`SuPReME CouRTsHiP', may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.
The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP