Two Motorcyclists - One Takes a Bath
Anyone who does not wish to read a true, erotic story, stop reading now.
It was late August, the eve of the new Fall semester. Everyone was restless as they tried to get in their "last licks" before the summer vacation ended.
As I was returning to my apartment around noontime from grocery shopping, the all-day, pre-autumn rain had just begun to let up. So I put down the big bag I was carrying and closed my umbrella. As I looked up toward my brownstone staircase (lower Manhattan) few doors down, I noticed two cone-shaped figures in the street right in front of my two-storey apartment building.. One cone was red, the other yellow.
On closer inspection these were two young guys, around 20, perched on motorcycles and wearing long slickers with hoods of those colors. The slickers, and the guys, were totally wet from the rain. One guy was in jeans. His pants were so wet that they looked extra blue from the dampness. The other guy on the `cycle was in shorts. His shiny legs were wet, his slicker shiny like the other guy's. Both wore sneakers that were drenched. So sopping wet that their anklet sox had disappeared into a watery mess within their shoes leaving their bare, pointy ankles. It was a sexy look somehow.
When I came to the stairs, before going up I decided to go over to these drenched guys to see what was what, whether they knew someone in the building, or even if I could help in some way though they were total strangers to me. They looked so dismal!
Well, I soon saw that one of the guys was real good-looking-the one in the red slicker. His buddy was a total contrast to him. (Why is it that often when you see two guys together, one will be nice, the other not. Don't TWO handsome boys ever associate with each other?? :-)
Both still had their hoods covering their heads. So I said, "Hi! Hey, the rain stopped, you know!"
So they both peeled back their slicker hoods. Their hair was wet like they just came oiut of the shower since they were caught by the sudden downpour before putting up their hoods. The guy in red unzipped his slicker in front revealing a totally dampsweat shirt, tee-shirt underneath (I could see the upper part of it under his sweat shirt) that hugged his trunk-revealingly, I might add.
"What are doing sitting here in the rain?" I asked with a smile in my voice.
"Trying to decide what the hell to do," one said. "We've ridden all the way up here to N.Y. from Tennessee."
"Tennessee!?" exclaimed. "That means you rode almost all night."
"That's right," said the other, cute one.
"I'm Al," I said, offering my hand. They introduced themselves as Ken, the handsomer one as Steve.
"Well, jeez, you guys sure are wet," I said, thinking to myself how I might help in some way. One of them, I think it was Ken, then sneezed loudly.
"Tell you what," I said, "why don't you come up to my apartment and dry out. OK? Want to do that?" They looked like basically nice guys to me. They spoke in nice voices. I figured they were straight but so what? I know I would have appreciated an offer like that to dry off after all that rain and a long trip outdoors. (In fact, something like that once happened to me on a canoe trip.)
So, up they came to my apartment on the second, top floor. I was climbing the stairs behind them watching them carrying along their helmets, which they didn't want to leave out in the street. I could smell the damp odor of their clothing. I sort of surveyed them from the rear as they trudged up the stairs, the good-looking one, Steve, just ahead of me. I could also tell he had a very willowy shape to him, the way he negotiated the steps was sexy like a cat would do it. At one point he suddenly looked back at me flashing me a real sort of telling smile.
One we got into my house they let out relaxed ohs and ahs. "Nice fireplace," one boy said. I don't think they had been indoors in almost 24 hours! I made some coffee and that was appreciated. So were the big tarry-cloth towels
they started to dry their faces, necks, arms, etc., with. (No one took off any clothes.)
Then Ken announced that he had a friend uptown near Columbia U. and that he would like to subway up to pay this friend-male or female, I wasn't sure-a visit as planned, he said.
He turned to Steve and asked, "Is that OK?" Then to me he asked, "OK if Steve waits here for me?"
"Of course," I said, "That's cool. No prob."
Here the really groovy-looking Steve was the one who would stay, the other would be away for at least two hours, I figured. So Ken said, leaving, "See ya all in about 2 hours." Then he came popping back, "Hey, Al, can I buy a couple of subway tokens from you?"
"You can HAVE two subway tokens. Here." So I gladly Gave them to him and off he went.
So, now Steve and I are alone. A series of thoughts run through my horny head as he pours out another coffee, blowing on it to get it cool as he looks so comfortable being in my place, kimnd of slouching in the kiotchen chair.
"Make yourself comfortable," I say to him. Then I add: "But aren't you UNcomfortable in those wet clothes? Ur jeans are sopping wet."
"Yeah," he says looking at his pants and rubbing them to see how wet they are. I notice also that they are not only wet but hugging some very curvy thighs, which were quite noticeable because the wet jeans had become so tight.
All of a sudden Steve puts down his coffee mug as though he were about to say or do something dramatic. And that he did! He peels off everything he has on above his belt-a sweat shirt, the tee underneath-all wet. Nothing was left but his bare torso.
And what a sight! He was tan above his collar bone and his face-very tan. So were his arms and hands. But his chest and belly, were white, without any tan at all, making him look extra nude, if you know what I mean. Everyone, including me, likes a tan on himself and others. But exposed, non-tanned parts of one's body also look very sexy. Especially Steve's bod.
Here was a beautiful torso, cool pair of pecs riding high on his upper body His nipples were a dark, dark brown and protruded firmly like central mountains on craters on the Moon from his defined, geometrically-curved pecs. His cleavage was subtle and sexy-the kind where you want to lay your cock in the groove, body-rub it in the "valley," maybe with some vegetable or Baby Oil added so your cock slithers around between the shallow mounds of flesh. And slithers over those hard nips, your cock feeling the contact...
I stared at all that and his nice abs, not concealing my interest and appreciation in what I was looking at. Steve certainly noticed this "interest." He had his eyes on my eyes as he was taking off his upper clothing. When people watch you like that you have to assume they are interested in what you are interested in about them. So, he knew I was definitely aroused. A faint smile flickered across his face as he looked down to unfasten his belt. He knew.
Unfasten his belt? What next? I thought. So, I took the initiative.
"Steve," I said, "Bet you'd like to take a bath. Not a shower but a HOT TUB. No?"
"Really? You have a tub, Al?" .
"Of course. Why would I suggest it if I didn't?" I went to the bathroom and started to fill the tub with nice, green-looking hot water that started bubbling and swirling up to level. I started thinking, Yeah, hey, that WOULD feel real nice as I then started remembering the last time I myself got drenched, was cold, but then dunked my chilled bod into a nice bathtub full of clean, hot water! It was like heaven being caressed like that with that watery warmth!
While I was thinking this and testing the heat of the water with a finger, in walks Steve-naked.
"Ah!" he exclaims. "Does THAT look good! Thanks, man!"
So, with no further talking, I exited to give him the privacy of taking his first bath in God knows how long, and with that unexpected pleasure he would have taking a bath after such a long, rain-drenched trip.
As I left the bathroom, I closed the door but not all the way leaving a littl crack so he wouldn't think he was being "shut in" and also so we could talk if we wanted to.
I looked at the bathroom door while sitting down to finish my coffee. I then noticed that before he got into the tub, he opened the door a little more ajar. Then came some lively conversation btw us. All differtent topics, from school (he also was in college), to the various things he and his friend saw on the road coming north, and so on, with me asking about details of his stories. I had never taken a motocycle trip so that description of it rather fascinated me.
Then all of a sudden, he said, "Al, come `ere a sec, would ya?"
I went in to the b.r. to find him comfortably ensconced deep" in the tub, partly lathered up with a big, happy grin on his face as though it was the most pleasasnt "trip" he could imagine. I was pleased to see him so pleased.
"Do me a fave, would you, Al?"
"Sure. What?" He then hands me the wash rag and the bar of Irish Brand (green) soap and says, "Do my back, will ya?"
So I start rubbing his back with the soapy wash cloth, alternating with my bare hands.. What a back! He was bent forward so that his ribs showed subtly next to his lats. His spinal column protruded slightly but was walled in and framed by sexy back mscls. Here was a guy who developed sinewy muscles by engaging, I figured, in his different real activities. He obviously wasn't "born with them" or got that bod from weightlifting. I then asked him if he did much canoeing because my back also looks like that when I hold a mirror in front of a bigger mirror to look at it. And I do do a lot of canoeing. He aid that yes, he did.
Then something odd happens. He reaches down to his crotch in the soapy water as if looking for something. I could see this as I was looking over his shoulder, getting a nice "overhead view" of his chest, nipples coated in lather, and his glistening belly with its six ripples as he sat "crunched" forward.
"Looking for something, Steve?" I asked as he seemed to be feeling around between his legs as though groping for something. But I had the soap in my hand - and the stopper was in front him. So what was he doing?
"Oh, it's nothing," he said sort of mysteriously
So that was the bath. As he still sat in the tub, I thought he might want to now rinse off. So I left the bathroom so he could be private, shower off, and dry himself.
In about 10 minutes he emerges from the bathroom with a towel slung around his waist in a really unique way. He had rolled down the top of the towel so it was just above his pubes. This shortened the whole towel into a type of costume, like, such as I have seen ancient Greeks wear. The bottom of the towel barely obscured his genetalia.
"That's a nice look!" I couldn't help remarking as he walked toward me at the kitchen table where I had resumed sipping some coffee, by now on the cool side. But I didn't care about the temperature of the coffee as much as by what I was looking at.and also what the hell I would do or he would do next...
I didn't have long to wait.
"Al," he says, sitting down on the wooden chair, "do you have any magazines. You know, `interesting' ones?"
He stretches out his legs, folding his arms over his chest but low in a way that left most of his chest exposed along with both of his brown nipples that were circled with reddish discs, like wheels, setting off his pair of sexy nips. He flexed his ab mscls as he sort of shifted and jacknifed his legs around to get them into the position he wanted them extending them front of him (if you get the picture).
"Yeah, "I think I do.somewhere," I said answering his question about mags. "What's ur preference?" I asked calling out to him from my bedroom as I searched a drawer hiding-place.
"Oh, anything. Anything.sexy, that is..."
So, I grabbed the first ,magazine that hit my fingers- Playgirl, which I didn't remember I had. Not caring which it was, I brought it to the table.
Well, he takes it and silently begins paging through it. Naturally, I get curious in what he finds interesting in the mag. I notice he stops every once in awhile to look at something more closely.
Then, he looked at me and said something in a certain tone of voice that really caught me on fire-it gets a hard- on going on me right now as I write this:
He says: "Al,"then a long long pause. "Hey, pull your chair over. Let's look at this together, OK?"
Pleasantly surprised, I then thought to myself, Why here? Why not on my bed where my reading light there is much better. And the bed a better place to.do what? I wondered.
So, I said, "Steve? Let's go in here. Better light."
He follows me into the bedroom. I lie down giving him the spot nearer the light mounted over the bed, with me to his right, him to my left.
We lie down. He shifts the magazine so it's between us so we can both look at it fully and simultaneously. Then he "takes over," narrating with each page and with each pic we look at. There are some women in Playgirl and he comments about them, too.
"Nice tits, eh, Al? Like her hair, too. Her pubes."
Then he comes to a naked guy. We both fall silent. We both stare at this well-built, sort of hunky, tanned male with the brunet hair. Steve then blurts out, "Nice dong on him, eh?"
"Yeah, not bad," I say, starting to breath harder and noting he's doing the same..
The pic stays there-interminably. Why doesn't he turn the page? I wonder.
Then he slowly slips his hand under his towel. A slow rhythmic, wavy motion starts in, the shadows made by the towel waves showing as his hand moves in a kind of circular way. The movements are extremely sexy, the towel rising and falling gently and rhythmically.
At this point-and who wouldn't?? I put my left arm around his left shoulder, over his left delt-far to my left. I did something more, taking a chance-a chance, because Steve did not in any way strike me as being gay or even bi. I sent my arm even further around him so that my left hand could reach down to his left pec, if you get the picture. I felt this smooth, hard mound of muscle- not all that rounded but, instead, firm with a subtle curvature and covered with extremely soft skin. The skin felt like velvet under my searching fingers and sexily contrasted with the muscular hardness underneath the soft skin.
Then I did something even more brazen: I fingered my way down to his nipple.I then pulled my hand back to my mouth, licked that finger, and started to return to his left nip. As my hand was coming back to where it had been after I had wet it, Steve murmured sort of out of breath, "Keep doing that! Feels cool!" as he tugged my arm gently directing my hand and finger back to where it had been-on his chest.
That was my left hand. With my right hand, I decided that since he liked what I was doing with his upper bod, why not "go for it"? So, with my free, right hand I reached under his towel colliding with his already busy left hand under the towel.
Still holding the mag with his right, he takes his left hand out from under the towel letting me play alone with him.
With his now free right hand he heads for my running shorts, skillfully unbuttoning the top button, heading for my briefs through my open pants-my briefs now exposed, me totally tented at near max 7-8". Then he starts as best he can slipping off my shorts and briefs. I help him out by raising my hips and pelvis so everything can be slipped off. He seems to expert at it. But then I guess any person, male or female, is undresssed by someone in more or less the same way.
He then seizes my cock, but gently, and puts it in a vertical position. He spits on his right hand and begins slowly massaging my cock and swinging it around like a hitter with a bat in the batter's box. I am doing the same to his, noting his incredibly huge head or helmet amnd its rim atop his stiff penis..
Another thought comes into my head: Someone's going to get fucked, I think. Or at least I am going to get things moving in that direction. Although I could have been satisfied with what we were doing, especially when he turned toward me so that his left hand could touch my chest. He then started sort of exploring over my left pec, working his away around a few scattered hairs to my left nipple. Then he went over to my right pec, which was flexing as I was jerking him. (My mscls flex like that.) Then he explored my belly and my own modest six-pac. I tightened myself as he did that, involuntarily, so he sort of pressed on my ribbed abs in a way that made my cock lurch in his hand.
But that new thought stayed with me: Why not fuck?
So I said sort of out of breath, "Just a sec, Steve. Sorry. Be right back." I got up leaving him looking at me kind of curiously as if to say. "What are you going to do?" He then goes back down to his cock, still under the towel, with his hand, flipping mag pages.
I return with a tube of K-Y.
"Look familiar?" I ask kind of bratily, holding it up in the air..
"Yeah, it does," he says. Then before I could say anything else-I didn't know what to say anyway!-he seizes the K-Y in the blue & white tube from me, opens it, and begins greasing his hole. Right! HIS ass, just like that!
Without saying a word he suddenly sits up so he is on top of me, his towel now off. He starts positioning himself on me so that my cock is under his butt. Raising himself up, he slowly inserts my totally-hard organ into his ass. I forgot to mention that I had noticed his beautiful buns when he had first come into the bathroom to get into the tub. But now that same pair of ass cheeks and hios greased up orifice were now meeting my cock. With his help and my help in getting my somewhat above-av penis into him, it went in. In fact, it went ALL THE WAY IN! ALL THE WAY UP!
"I've never done this before," Steve said breathlessly, alternating between a series of "ahhh," "jeez, kinda hurts," "it's OK now, "Oh, yes, Al," "keep going," etc. .
Then he asked: "Is this OK, Al? Is this right?"
Out of breath I answer, "Fine. Yeah. LET'S GO!"
Then Steve, without any cues from me, gets into a wild up & down motion that was so hot I thought I would come inside him within two minutes.
"For somone..who has.never done.this before..you sure are." I never finished the sentence.
What a divine sensation! Made even better by our mutual fondling of each other's chests-squeezing each other's nips, feeling each other's delts, arms, lats, every rise and fall of our anatomies, looking at each oithger in the eye...
Then he leaned forward, paused, looking at my mouth as though zeroing in on it, I leaned toward him , too, as best I could. We fall into a long, wet, kind of slobbering male kiss! Our tongues wildly colliding.
His cock is pointing straight up hitting my chin if I pull it toward my face. His cock is just about in my face, in fact. The closeup look at it, about 7 inches, showed that he was reaching his peak, pre-cum oozing out of his dick. With each up & down rise and fall of his ass with my cock inside him, his cock would collide with my chin or mouth, even nose.
A penis ready explode has a certain look. The big tube beneath it is loaded up with a long wad of cum and protrudes in it ike a huge artery. The veins on one's cock also protrude. The penis is at its maximum hardness.
That was Steve's at that climactic moment.
I started to put his cock-somewhat clumsily, given the position we were in-nearer my mouth. Just then Steve suddenly grabbed one of my pecs, squeezing it, almost roughly massaging it, brushing my erect nipple, squeezing it, too, then almost shouting: "Al! Let's cum! NOW!"
"YEAH! I'm ready, too!" I said. As I angled his cock even nearer my mouth, all of a sudden HE CAME before I could take it into my mouth.
And at that moment, I came, too..
His wad shot up on one of my cheeks on my face, and because I angled his cock down a bit to look at it better, the rest of his 6-7-shot orgasm of semen landed on my neck and chest. Thick, creamy, sticky cum that at first felt extra warm.against my skin and nipple, but then started drying quickly giving my skin an almost menthol feel to it.
He slowly rose from me, my cock slithering out of him (we didn't wear rubbers; a prophylaxis would be necessary, I had the equipment; my older brother's an MD).
The smell of cum and male sweat was so strong- but not unpleasant-that it seemed that the whole bedroom reeked of it!
Steve seemed elated. "How was that, AL?" he asked sort of teasingly as he looked back at me as he was heading toward the bathroom to clean up and "douche."
"The best ever!" I shot back.
And it just about was!
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