This is a work of fiction. Any relation to real people or situations is entirely coincidental.
THE SHUDDER CHRONICLES Part 1: MAC MEN
By Randy Rawman
I had been single exactly one month when my Powerbook died.
I skipped the Apple store and went to a Mac Dealer in my neighborhood called MacMen. I've long thought that the guys at the Genius Bar are the unsung sex symbols of the new millennium, lanky bespectacled nerds with hard lean bodies and sexy tattoos under their royal blue T shirts with just a few clicks of their magic fingers and fix whatever's ailing you and make everything okay. Yes, Apple geeks are dorky sexy. Angel's just plain sexy.
When I first laid eyes on him, I had come straight from the gym and was wearing my favorite ass-hugging red Umbro shorts and a gray Underarmour tank that caressed my pecs and shoulders and made me feel likea super hero. As Angel entered allmy information into the stores computer, I took the opportunity to give him theonce over. I couldn't quite put my finger on his enthicity. There's some Latin in there, a littleAsian, maybe, definitely some black. Whatever it was, he was fucking hot.
When I showed pick up my fixed computer a few dayslater, I was wearing the same shorts with a vintage Adidas nylon tank. Again, I had come fresh from thegym. I stayed extra long because Iwanted to get a pump going in case Angel was working. Sure enough, it was him.
"Hey Gym boy," he says, even though I'm probably afew years older than him. "Here'swhat we did." He then proceeds toexplain exactly what was wrong with my Mac and what they did to fix it. I could barely focus because his voicewas so sexy (Where the fuck is he from?) and also because the way he wasleaning on the counter, I can see his denim clad ass in the mirror behindhim.
While we're waiting for my credit card to beapproved, I consider asking Angel to coffee or something but can't get up thenerve to say anything. He's toofucking hot for me anyway.
I thank him then head outside to my car. I load my computer into my trunk andwhen I slam the trunk lid, I see Angel walking toward me with a cocky smile.
"Did I forget something?" I ask.
"No," he says. He walks the last few steps to face me before speaking again, this timein a much more hushed tone. "Iwanted to catch you because I wanted to invite you to something, a party nextmonth."
What? Iwas hoping that somehow our paths would cross again, but this I didn't seecoming. "A party?" Irepeated. "Like a customerappreciation kind of thing?"
Angel laughs. "No, it's a private party," he says.
I shoot him a confused look. "Look, I fixed your computer," he says,taking a step toward he and putting his arm on my bare shoulder, his volumelowering to just above a whisper. "I know what kind of dirty stories you read, what blogs you visit, whatmovies you download."
"I think that's called invasion of privacy," I say.
"I think we share a common hobby," he says.
I don't know whether to feel completely violated ortotally turned on. "And what'sthat?" I ask.
He gives my shoulder a squeeze. "Breeding and getting bred," he says,looking me dead in the eyes.
This practically knocks the wind out of me. Just then, a mother walks by with twotoddlers, totally unaware that helpful computer dork just called me out on mydirtiest little secret and that we were in the processing of bonding over onecommon interest; loads in asses.
"Look, I gotta get back in there," he says, handingme a postcard. "If I'm right aboutwhat you need, call the number on the bottom of that card." He's fucking me with his eyes now. "IfI'm wrong, keep living in fantasy land and I'll see you next time your laptopcrashes from all the raw fucking you keep downloading."
It's not until I get back in my car, that I realizemy dick is rock hard and leaking in my shorts. I take a breath and read the postcard. If it was going to be an invitation to somekind of sex party, I expected it to be mysterious and vague. That wasn't Angel's style.
BREEDHOUSE LA PRESENTS...
SHUDDER
Join LA's hottest sex-studs for marathon night of load-swappingsperm-soaked fucking.
JULY 24, 2013
THE RULES ARE SIMPLE: NO CONDOMS & NO PULLING OUT.
NO LOADS WASTED. IF IT DOESN'T GO UP YOUR ASS, YOU BETTER FUCKING DRINK IT.
The artwork is a cartoon of a blond muscle stud beingfucked by a darker muscle stud who looks a lot like Angel while a group ofother studs watch and wait their turn. Both fuckers are shuddering, heads thrown back in nut-draining ecstasyas the blond begs, "Breed me, fucker. Flood my ass," and the Latino says simply, "Take. My. Cum. Uuunnnnnnnngh." In the corner, written in ropy whiteletters is the artist's signature; Angel S. Even his signature is made of cum. He's a man of many talents.
Am I brave enough to explore his other ones?
It takes me two days to call him. I expect to get voicemail. I don't.
"Hello," he says. Oh shit, do I hang up or do I talk?
"Angel, this is Randy," I say, my voicequivering. "You fixed mycomputer."
"I know who you are," he says. "I was just thinking about your ass inthose red shorts and how much I'd like to fill it." I always thought my ass looked good in those shorts. Nice to have some confirmation. "How many times did you almost call meand then pussy out?"
"None," I lie. "Okay, four." Hescoffs. "Seven," I say finally.
"So I was right about you?" he says cockily.
"Yes and no," I say, fumbling the words as I try toexplain myself. "I'm turned on byall that stuff, so turned on I can'tsee straight, but in real life, I haven't really explored that side ofmyself. Up until a month ago, Iwas in a monogamous relationship for ten years with a guy who didn't likefucking. He was just into oral."
"Did Mr. Blowjob know what was on your computer?" heasks.
"He didn't want to know," I say. "I haven't been with anyone else in tenyears."
"God, I bet you're so fucking tight," he says.
I don't know what to say to that. I'm saved from my awkwardness when Ihear a doorbell ring on his end of the phone.
"Look Randy," he says, "I want to talk to you more, Ireally do, but I got a couple from Silverlake coming over here, a blond and aLatino...and the Latino's going to breed me while I fill the blond with my four-dayload. So I can't talk. Have you thought about the party?"
"It's allI've thought about...but I'm not sure—"
"Check your email in tonight," he says. "I got a proposition for you."
"You need my email address?"
"I got it."
"What's this proposition?" I say. "Just tell me." The truth is, I just want to keep himon the phone. His voice makes methrob.
"I can't talk now, my buddies just parked...oh shit,they brought the leather, this is going to be so fucking hot, Randy. Fuck."
"Can I watch?" I say, jokingly.
Angel laughs. "Hey, wait. Maybe you can,"he says. "You got Skype?"
Fifteen minutes later, I'm matching a red-hot threewayunfold somewhere in the Hollywood Hills. Angel hasn't told other two studs he's Skyping, but he's positioned hiscomputer with a nice view of the room. It's his bedroom-slash fuck-den, complete with black leather covered bedand mirrors all around, and he's making sure to be real vocal for me. "That's it, Oscar," he says when theLatino in chaps and a harness places his fat cockhead at his hot tight pucker. "Just drive it in. Uuuunnnnngh fuck! Don't move for a second, let me getused to it."
"Okay, that's a second," says Oscar, with an evilsmile. "I gotta fuck now." He starts driving his cock in and outof Angel's hot hole, withdrawing till just the head is inside and then slammingforward smashing Angel forward causing him to grind his hard cock into the bed.
"Let me get on my knees, Oscar," insists Angel. "This grinding is going to make meshoot and I don't want to cum on the bed."
"That's right," says the blond, Ron, who's in aleather vest and Nasty Pig jockstrap. "What's the rule?"
All three of them say it at once. "No wasted loads."
Angel looks right into the lens when he says that. Andthen he laughs. I know what he'sdoing. He wants that to be myrule, too. He's going to insist Ilive by it, too, or he doesn't even want to fucking know me. No wasted loads. I can imagine him making me recite amanifesto, something like, "If there's a cock in the room I'm in that isn'tmine, and it's shooting a load, it's going in me. It's going down my throat or better yet—way better yet—up my hot ass. That's what I was made for."
"And what else?" I imagine him asking.
"And if my cock's shooting its load, it's going in anass or a mouth, even if it has to be my own." As I daydream about this, I make a promise to myself rightthen that from now on, even when I jack off, I eat the load. No wasted loads.
"Oh fuck, I'm getting close and I don't want to blastyet," says Oscar. He pulls hisdrooling 9-inch breeding stick out of Angel's ass, flips him around and shovesit down his throat. In the sameflurry of moment, Ron, who's 8 inches with fat mushroom head, goes balls deepinto Angel in one smooth stroke. The whole switch happened so fast. There was maybe one split second when Angel when he wasn't impaled oncock.
"Fuck, your cock is amazing, Ron," says Angel. "I can feel that fat head hitting myprostate."
"I want to drench it," promises Ron. "But not yet." When Ron pulls out, Angel's hotfuckhole catches the light. Angel's ass is already dripping with pre-cum. "I need your cock up my hole, Angel."
"This cock?" teases Angel, poking the head in and outof Ron's tight pucker. "Is thisthe cock you want?"
"That's the one," says Ron.
"This cock with the four-day load in it?" says Angel.
Ron throws his head back when he hears that news andgroans. "Yes," he says, like a manpossessed. Angel's rock hard 8-inchfuckstick plunges deep into Ron's ass and he whimpers with pleasure and moans,"Yes, yes, yes, fuck me. Fuck meso deep. God, I need your cock."
"What else do you need?" asks Angel.
"I need your fuckload," says Ron. "I need you to flood my asshole. I need to you breed me."
"Get ready, fucker," says Angel. "I'm about to reach the point of noreturn." What Angel can't seebecause of where he's positioned, but what I can is Oscar priming his dick togo back in Angel's hole. And it'snot going to come out until it's drenched those asswalls with DN fucking A.
This man, Angel. This man who looked deep into my harddrive and later myeyes, and could see that I had a need, a deep need, that I didn't have theballs to explore. He's going tochange that. He's going to breakme in and introduce me to the Breeding Brotherhood and in case I think for onesecond that he's all talk when it comes to bareback breeding, he's going tobreed one muscle stud on cam for me too see while another muscle stud coats hisass-walls with his creamy white load. And it's going to happen right fucking now.
"Oh fuck, I'm cumming, Ron," Angel pants, just asOscar jabs his shiny hot prick back into Angel's puckerhole. "Oh fuck, Oscar! I was hoping you'd do that. Damn, that fuckstick is going to fuckthe cum out of me and right into this fucker's ass."
"Then do it, dude," grunts Oscar. "Because I'm breeding youright...NOW. Ungh...ungh...ungh...ungh..." Oscarkeeps grunting with every jet of stud spunk that jets from his cock.
"I can feel every squirt," gasps Angel. "Damn, you're still shooting."
"You're pulling it out of me," says Oscar.
"I need cum!" Ron shouts. "Give me that four day load, Angel!"
"You want it?" Angel asks.
"I need it," says Ron.
"Here...it...CUMMMMS!" bellows Angel while grabbing Ron'sface and pulling him to be eye to eye. "Aaaah...aaagh...take my...cum...I'm...breeding... your...hot...fucking ...hole."
Angel arches back and is about to collapse on Ronwith Oscar coming down on both of them, when suddenly Ron, stroking his hotfuckstick, says, "I'm cumming, too, guys. I wanted to breed but I'm fucking cumming. Who's gonna drink it?"
Angel and Oscar knock heads trying to dive onto Ron'sspurting cock but Angel gets their first. Angel takes jet after jet of thick cum, saying, "Mmmm," with everyspurt. After a bit, he pulls offand lets Oscar take over on Ron's cum-soaked cock. While Oscar milks the last few drops from Ron's deliciouscockhead, Ron throws his head back, closes his eyes and tries to catch hisbreath. Since both his fuckbudshave their eyes closes, Angel can get away with looking right into thecamera. He stares right into mysoul and smiles.
He heart, which has already been pounding out of mychest, nearly stops when he opens his mouth. He didn't swallow yet. He opens wide and shows me the huge load Ron shot into him. He looks back into my eyes, swirls itaround in his mouth, then points to me and then to the leather bed as if tosay, "You're next, fucker." Thenhe swallows. I cum in my shortswithout touching myself.
TO BE CONTINUED.
Copyright 2014