Gay stories 

Last Assignment

February 22, 2014 / by gaystory

If you’re a lifestyle critic, don’t pester me! This is fictional and fantasy engaged in by consenting adults. Perhaps this should be under novellas, or novels…it’s long. It’s also my first attempt at writing gay or bisexual adventures, my first material was MMF and the MM didn’t connect ;-) . I’ve gleaned some ideas from all the stories I’ve viewed here on Literotica. I hope you enjoy it, and I’m open to suggestions for improvement!

*

“Shit!” was all I could come up with.

Here it was the end of the friggin’ night and I had to go take another stupid report for a lost or stolen ID. That’s what junior guys are for, dammit! I quickly realized though that if anyone else were available they’d not be sending me because, on top of the fact I was top guy (oldest prick) on our crew, I also garnered top pay for OT when I get stuck, and giving me OT would be avoided if at all possible, so I knew everyone else had to be tied-up and I just sucked it up and headed to the address they gave me in the radio dispatch. The address sounded vaguely familiar too.

As soon as I pulled up to the home in the older residential area of the main part of town I remembered being here before for another job where someone stole the guy’s entire keg bar from his backyard. That was a few years ago now, but I remembered it because of the thing taken — an entire bar — and because the house was home to some gay guys who were also into making gay male porn movies, some right on this property. Oh yeah, I’d checked the books to see if that was a violation, but when our local codes were written by Moses, it wasn’t a breach to film guys suckin’ and fuckin’ one another on private property in town. Long as no one saw anything, bitched, or was offended, qué çera, çera.

The rain was pelting down now, it was one of those crummy mid-April spring early, early mornings, and it was chilly enough for me to see my breath. I pulled up and called the dispatch center to tell them I was stepping out. As if listening for my radio call, the gate light came on brightly and the gate opened to reveal a shadow standing in the opening, trash can lid overhead defending against the deluge, and waving its arm as if directing traffic, but directing me to hurry and follow this shadow man.

I did as beckoned and tailed the guy up the alley alongside the house, after I secured the gate behind me of course. The gate was in an eight-foot high fence that surrounded the property of the old brick colonial. The opening was right off the driveway and had the mailboxes for the place, and the house number, affixed next to the gate. As we jogged into the back yard I observed the expanse of the place, a huge in-ground swimming pool, cabana, and entertainment area to the right, from whence, if I recollected rightly, had been swiped the keg bar; and a sort of Japanese garden complete with bridge to the left. We made the left and went over the bridge toward what appeared to be the old garage at the rear of the property. Quite a spread, palm trees and lighting and various sculptures, gazebos and all. For a standard lot, this place was crammed full like Disneyworld. We approached the door of the garage and a sensor lamp illuminated our path. My guide flung open the door and indicated I should enter past him, and as I did I heard him toss down the garbage can lid he’d been using as an umbrella, then enter and shut the door with a thump.

The interior of the place was dimly lit from someplace around the bend to the left in another room. Instead of finding myself in an open garage I found it was a conversion into living space…quite well done actually. My companion brushed by me and entered deeper into the glow and suddenly the place was awash in blinding light that pained my eyes, which had been in darkness these past eight hours on night patrol.

Gradually, my eyes adapted to the lighting and I began to be able to see details. The guy had vanished again. I looked around at the decor of the place and noted it was mostly contemporary, Ikea-type stuff. Nice reproductions of European artists were tastefully hung about on the walls. The place was sparsely furnished; after all it was an old one-car garage. There was a full bed with some sort of overhead cabinetry for storage, a combination dresser, computer workstation, and work area had been built into one long side of the place. A plush leather chair and couch with a heavy wood table stood at what used to be the rear of the garage on the short wall, and there was a severely bright hanging lamp dangling from what looked like anchor chain over the table. I heard a rustle behind me and the mystery fellow appeared from around the bed and cabinet setup, apparently from a bathroom since he was now toweling his blonde hair vigorously as he approached me. He was now also shirtless. Beyond him I could observe a kitchenette setup with sink, stove, refrigerator and cabinets and a little breakfast alcove set. I couldn’t see the bath; it apparently occupied space alongside the bed, which is why there was sort of a hallway entry from the outside.

The blonde tossed the towel onto the bed and extended his right hand, “I’m Doug, I called about my ID being lost or stolen.”

“Officer Clay,” I replied, as i shook the guy’s hand.

He was about my height, six-two or so, 25-28 years of age, medium build but toned, tousled blond hair, which I now noted was actually highlighted brown hair, and he had pierced earrings in his right ear and bright blue eyes to match his bright white smile. There was a tattoo of some combined letters on his left front shoulder area as well, perhaps Asian letters, but I couldn’t discern.

“I’m really, really sorry for having to call you out in shit weather like this for a dumb thing like a lost ID, but I have a plane to catch later this evening and without ID I can’t board. They told me call the cops and file a report and try to get some new ID. But it’s a weekend! How can I get ID on a weekend from anywhere?” he moaned.

I got my pad ready and began to copy down all the information required to file the report for Doug. He was plainly irritated at himself for misplacing his wallet and ID’s, and depressed over the fact he might not make his flight because with the new standards in force after 9-11, entering aircraft without the correct paper and ID is impossible, even with a boarding pass, and though this kid was obviously no Middle-Eastern terrorist. I felt bad for him, he was just stuck, and I thought of my own kid who was about the same age as Doug.

“Listen,” I said. “I’m going off shift in about ten minutes. When I get in I’ll write this up and print a copy for you and bring it over on my way home. I go by here anyhow. With the report, the authorities in the airport can confirm who you are and also confirm the report by calling the station.” I dug in my pocket. “Here, this is my card, keep it with you and present it with the report and with any luck the guys at the gate in the airport will let you pass and board.”

“You’d do that for me?” he inquired, almost incredulous.

“I have a kid about your age and if he were in a similar bind I’d hope one of my buddies in arms would help him out. It’s no big deal, really; just writing a short report with all your particulars and identifiers and printing it so you can show it, instead of waiting ’til Monday to get a copy.”

Doug was ecstatic.

“Thanks!” he said, and he jumped up from the chair next to the sun-like lamp and put a bear hug on me.

I was a bit shocked, but understood Doug’s elation because of his relief.

“No problem,” I said.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Officer. I got a little carried-away because you made my night!”

“Don’t apologize, I understand,” I answered. “I’ll be back in about an hour or so, I have to stow the car and my gear, write this up, and then get back over here. You be up?”

Doug’s eyes were wide and shining, “Absolutely! Thank you so much! I’ll put on some coffee for when you get back.”

“Great,” I said, “I could use that with this damned weather we’re having.”

I turned to leave and Doug went to show me the way.

“Don’t bother, I’ll find my way back to the car. I’m dressed for this shit, you’re not.” I was being paternal again.

“Okay,” Doug said. “When you get back ring the bell under the mailbox to the left and I’ll buzz the gate release and you can get back in, okay?”

“Fine by me, Doug. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

I left the little apartment and stepped back out into the rain that was now pouring down at the rate of about an inch an hour. Even though I hurried, I still got damp en route to the car; these raincoats we’re issued suck!

About forty-five minutes later I was heading back to Doug’s home with the freshly written and printed theft report, sealed in a Ziplock against the elements, for him. The raw night and damp uniform was making that promised coffee sound really good.

Once back at the old colonial house, I located a parking space for my personal vehicle as close to the house as possible and then got out, popped open my Mary Poppins and Olympic-walked to the gate and rang the buzzer as directed by Doug earlier. There was the immediate answering buzz and I opened the gate and dashed in, crashing the umbrella into the wall of the house as I went, and of course letting water pour down on me in my light jacket, soaking me. I nearly slipped and fell into the little moat under the bridge, but managed to arrive at the door to Doug’s quarters without further mishap. This Good Samaritan stuff always costs!

Doug opened the door as I arrived at the threshold and I stepped into his home, dripping water everywhere on the entry mat, and splattering the wall with it as I closed my umbrella.

“Holy shit is it pouring out there!” I announced.

“Holy shit indeed,” Doug replied. “You’re absolutely drenched! Give me your umbrella and jacket, Officer Clay.”

“It’s Paul, ” I said, “Paul Clay…you can call me Paul, I’m off the clock,” I said as I peeled off my jacket.

“Here’s the report,” I said, offering Doug the plastic envelope.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, Paul,” Doug groaned. “You got into a mess just trying to help me out past what was expected of you.”

“Hey, proud to serve, Doug. No problem,” I fibbed.

“This isn’t going to help,” Doug said, walking away from me quickly, arm outstretched, and dangling my gushing jacket as he headed toward the kitchen or bathroom from the hall.

“I’m going to get you one of my guest robes,” I heard Doug say, the echo revealing his location as most likely the bathroom.

“You’re going to have to get out of all those wet things and put the robe on and I can put the stuff in my dryer to make it wearable again, before you have pneumonia.”

The smell of fresh brewed coffee was now prevalent in the air and my mouth fairly watered for it. I was chilled to the bone now, and coffee and dry duds sounded like a grand idea.

Doug reappeared. “Come with me to the bathroom and you can get all that wet stuff off and give it to me. I put the robe on the hook on the back of the door for you, and there’s a pair of flip-flops you can put on too,” he said, sounding like a mom.

I trailed Doug into the home and to the bathroom, which turned out to be huge, about one third the size of the whole place, with Jacuzzi tub, separate shower, double sink vanity, a big linen closet and built-in dresser. It was brightly lit with canned ceiling lights and ambiant recessed lighting around the room. The room was like a Roman bathhouse, all covered in ceramic tiles in various hues of green, some with Greek or Roman etchings in them, and with a Roman terrazo floor.

“This place is gorgeous,” I said, truly amazed.

“Thanks,” Doug said proudly, “I designed it myself. The shower doubles as a steam bath, and the Jacuzzi can seat three,” he said with a wide grin and a wink.

“Uh oh,” I thought to myself. “You dope! You forgot what this place is and who lives here! Doug is probably gay, dummy! Okay, be cool…I doubt he’s being anything but gallant here, returning the favor as I wound up drowned in order to deliver him his report.”

Doug showed me into the bathroom and then left, pulling the door closed as he did. I fought with my wet clothing for about ten minutes, trying to get out of them without tearing them or pulling off my skin. I was a mess. I pulled my money clip out and tossed it onto the vanity and water immediately pooled around it from the saturated bills. That’s why I don’t carry a wallet when I work…you lose the whole shebang and I’d be just like Doug here, no ID’s.

I stripped naked and squeezed as much water out of the clothes as I could and plopped them down on the tile floor near the door. Then I took a plush towel and dried myself off. The robe was on the door hook as promised, and it was an extra large and fit me fine. As soon as I put it on I was enveloped in its warm, comfortable terry material. I slipped my feet into the flip-flops and opened the door of the bath into the kitchenette.

Doug was at the counter pouring coffee for both of us, and the microwave oven was purring; he had something cooking. I stood in the doorway a moment and watched this healthy, young, studly kid, shirtless, barefoot, and wearing only satin lounge pants. He did indeed resemble my own estranged son in many ways. Music was emanating from the main room…jazz, my preferred genre! “How’d he guess,” I wondered. The aroma of bacon cooking now charged into my sinuses and I immediately felt famished.

“Damn that smells good!” I said, causing Doug to visibly jump, startled by my voice.

“I’m making some of those frozen bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits for us, to go with the coffee,” Doug explained. “They’re pretty good, I eat them a lot.”

“I do too,” I said. “Them at home, pork roll, egg, and cheese at the diner.”

“I figured since it’s pretty much breakfast time, well, maybe of couple hours early, I’d make us some and we can eat and talk,” Doug said, as he busily went on with his impromptu meal preps.

Five minutes later we were seated in his little breakfast nook with steaming cups of coffee and breakfast sandwiches before us, accompanied by orange juice. I nearly inhaled the sandwich and sloshed it down with the OJ, and then, fully sated, I began to sip my coffee as Doug finished his sandwich, carefully chewing each bite and sipping his orange juice after each nibble.

“How long have you lived here?” I asked Doug.

“Sid let me move in here about eighteen months ago, after I began to work for him,” Doug replied.

Ah, that was it–Sid! The other guy’s name, the owner of the place I took the report on the stolen bar from. He of the gay movie making business, which was obviously quite lucrative, judging by the renovation of the house and the lavishness of the yard and grounds. Now I recalled. There’s another guy he lives with here too…Greg? Something like that. They’re a couple.

My curiosity was now hungry too.

“You work for Sid?” I queried.

“Well, work for him; work with him. I’m a gay porn actor, and Sid discovered me and got me into the business about two years ago. I’ve made five films with him already and I’m actually considered among the best in the trade,” Doug said proudly and matter-of-factly, with a huge smile. “That’s why I was hopping the plane later, to San Francisco. I have an appointment out there to make another movie for a friend of Sid’s that is a major porn producer on the West Coast, and I need to be there by Monday afternoon for the first shoot.”

I couldn’t explain it, but I got a hot flash as Doug’s bright smile lit the nook and we had solid eye contact.

“That’s why I’m so thankful that you went the extra mile for me to help out with my catching that flight, it means a possible shot at big time movie productions with national distribution, and of course more money!” Doug beamed.

“I’m glad that doing something so simple could help so much, Doug. No more thanks necessary, it’s my job,” I said.

“No, really,” Doug said, as he reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “I used to think all cops were assholes, especially to us in the gay and lesbian communities, but you’re not, and actually you are very nice,” Doug squeezed my hand.

I was suddenly having all sorts of weird surges of energy go through my body from the contact of Doug’s hand squeezing mine, and his almost sultry eye contact with me now, his smile changing from broad and bright to sort of lascivious. I wasn’t gay, or even bisexual, but I had to admit that I was now feeling a certain electricity charging my sex drives and could even feel my cock twitch.

Doug ran his hand up my forearm about halfway to my elbow.

“Have you ever been with another man, Paul?” he asked with a husky, sensual tone of voice.

Oh my God! Holy shit! Here’s another nice mess I’ve gotten myself into, I thought.

“N-n-no, n-n-never!” I managed to stammer; lying of course because as all male kids do in their early pubescent years, I’d fooled around with a couple of my pals, jerking off together, jerking each other off, even sucking each other’s boy dicks and poking each other in the ass with them, but never fucking.

“I’m sort of drawn to older men myself,” Doug continued. “They’re not as intimidating and aren’t in a big hurry like younger guys who just want to get off and go.”

My throat was so tight I was nearly strangling, and my pulse rate was skyrocketing. Yet, I didn’t pull my arm out of Doug’s grasp. I was beginning to feel those sensations beginning to radiate from my core, the sensations I normally felt when becoming aroused with my ex-wife as we enjoyed foreplay with one another.

“I’m glad you like older guys, Doug, but I’m old enough to be your father, or even older!” I croaked, trying to lubricate my voice box with a mouthful of coffee. “I’m just a burned-out old cop, nothing you’d be interested in.”

“On the contrary,” Doug said, as he released my arm and finished his coffee now, and rose. “You’re exactly what I like in a man; mature, not a hard body, but not a bucket of flab either, nice eyes, nice personality, a cop even…and maybe a nice cock too,” he said with a wicked smile and a wink. “I’ve never had a cop.”

My cock did jump when he heard his name mentioned! I watched Doug step over to the sink and put the dishes into it.

“I’ll be right back,” Doug said, “I want to get those wet clothes of yours and put them into the dryer so they’ll be done sometime today,” and he disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes. Evidently there was a little laundry area concealed in the linen closet by the shower. Helluva setup!

And now here I was; naked inside Doug’s robe, in his kitchen, and me without clothing, and with a monsoon in progress outside. A fly snagged in the spider’s web! A fly that should have been old enough to know better! I suddenly had empathy for the girls I’d dealt with after had a bad encounter with a date, or an acquaintance, after getting into a seemingly innocent situation.

I drained the last of my coffee as Doug came back out of the bathroom into the kitchen.

“Can I get you another,” he offered.

“No, thanks, that was plenty,” I said.

“Good, now we can relax and talk some more. C’mon, come into the other room where we can get comfortable on the leathers,” he suggested.

I got up and followed Doug to the main room, and as I followed I could see his firm buttocks swaying, sheathed in his sateen pants. I saw no lines for underwear, and it sure looked like Doug’s butt was naked inside those pants. The robe rubbed across the head of my penis and made me shudder and my dick throb. Doug flopped down into the luxuriant chair and indicated with his outstretched hand that I should occupy the couch. Hmmmm, I thought. How many victims had he devoured here already? The thought of Doug having sex with guys here caused my cock to begin to inflate, even as I fought it down. I dropped quickly into the couch to avoid Doug noticing the bump in the robe at my groin, and I arranged myself and the robe to cover it and to try and recover and head off the sexual excitement I was experiencing now, regardless of how I tried to extinguish it. I tried to concentrate on how really great sinking into this glove leather monster felt, as it molded around me.
Doug took a remote and adjusted the music volume.

“Anything you want to hear in particular?” he asked.

“No, jazz is fine; one of my favorites,” I responded.

Doug now touched a button on the big table and dimmed that airport landing light hanging above it to a more comfortable lumen level, and warming the ambiance of the room.

“I’ve been with lots of guys,” Doug said, as if our conversation hadn’t been interrupted. “Young, old, fat, bold, some egoists, some in it just for the money and cold as fish. I like mature men best because they’re settled and sure of themselves and enjoy just having sex for the sake of sex, taking their time, not for ‘until death us do part’ crap.”

“Even when I’m just making a porn flick, I enjoy the sex and my partner, and don’t just suck and fuck for the buck,” Doug said. “That’s why I’m called on a lot, I am enjoyed by the other actors, and my feelings are played out on the screen and the audience appreciates it.”

Doug was truly an artist, even if in a questionable form. He was definitely proud, professional, and quite sure of himself and his abilities, both art-wise and sexual. Weird as it seemed, I felt on an even plain with Doug as far as having pride in our work and selves. He was older than his years, but I suppose that comes from working in his chosen career in adult theater. Doug’s strong character was unquestionably attractive, as he was physically, and he was drawing me in.

“Since you haven’t been with a guy, have you ever watched gay male porn films?” Doug questioned.

“I’ll plead guilty to that,” I chuckled. “I’ve seen some scenes from gay guy pictures, but I never really got off on them or watched them enough to even get warm.” What I didn’t tell Doug was that they had gotten me hard.

“Well, we’ll just have to adjust that then,” Doug declared jovially, as he rose out of the chair and bounced over to the entertainment center where he riffled through some DVD boxes before choosing one. Doug shut off the jazz station and turned-on the TV and DVD player and dropped in the selection he had. After a moment the screen of the forty-eight inch behemoth television was illuminated with the logo and title of Sid’s movie company and backed by the customary canned music so common to porn flicks that the bands and musicians have now developed their own groupies and collectors.

The screen was brilliant with a sunlit tableau of a sparkling pool and setting that appeared to be somewhere in the islands of the Caribbean, until I recognized the set to be the very yard outside Doug’s door! The camera panned about, taking in all the ornamentation and water works and then it drifted over to a gazebo in the far corner where two individuals could be seen seated very close within it.

In the next scene, we were now right outside the gazebo entry with the occupants and there on the screen in living color was Doug and an equally young and gorgeous young lad, both of them naked and sporting huge erections, each of them stroking the other’s manhood tenderly as they leaned in and kissed each other passionately on the mouth.

Instantly my dick began to pump full of blood and swelled to stand at attention beneath the robe. The erotica of these boys kissing and handling each other’s pricks was arousing, whether the viewer was gay or not. It seemed they had also just left the pool because water droplets were glistening on each of their chests, dangling in the sparse twigs of hair trying to grow there. Their dark nipples were hard and puckered.

I felt precum begin to creep upward out of my nuts to the exit point at my cumhole. I wanted to grasp my own hardness and stroke it, but I looked down at Doug seated on the floor between me and the TV and worried over what else I might start spinning out of control by pleasuring myself. I leaned back into the couch’s welcoming crevasse and looked down my body over my rising cock tenting the robe, and over Doug’s head at the scene on TV.

“His name is Jimmy and he’s one of the best kissers I ever worked with,” Doug narrated. “This was his first film for Sid, or anyone, and after we were finished he told me he could never have done it with anyone but me the first time.”

Doug turned around to look at me and instantly saw that I had a full erection concealed beneath the heavy terry robe’s folds, and that I was reclined, which made my cock more pronounced, and which seemed an invitation to Doug.

As I watched Doug on the screen and Jimmy Newguy locked in a passionate embrace, their hands working over each other’s massive hardons, precum oozing copiously from each of their cumholes, I didn’t notice Doug shifting his position.

All of a sudden Doug’s head popped up in front of me, obscuring the TV screen a bit. He was back lighted so his facial features were a bit obscured. Without warning, he reached up under the robe and encircled my hard shaft with his hand and squeezed me firmly. I gushed some oil onto my belly and Doug did a slow stroke up and down my shaft, parallel to my lower belly, and then he pulled it toward him and vertical, which of course parted the sides of the robe and exposed my cock to view and illumination by the TV.

I didn’t move. Rather, I was now given over to letting qué çera çera happen to me. As I watched Doug in the movie on the TV with Jimmy, the Doug live was stroking and manipulating my manhood here in his house.

“Hmmm…I knew you’d have a nice cock, Paul. I can always tell a guy with a nice package,” Doug purred.

On the TV, Jimmy had stood up and Doug had moved on the bench of the gazebo to face at a right angle to the camera so that the image of Jimmy shoving his massive meat into Doug’s mouth could be exquisitely captured for the viewer’s enjoyment. I watched in awe as Jimmy’s cock glided deep into Doug’s throat and then withdrew, all shiny with Doug’s saliva, and then slowly sinking into Doug’s throat once again.

Doug was stroking my dick in precise time to the scene on the screen.

“Like what you’re seeing, Paul?” Doug asked.

All I could do was moan and gasp as a tremendous throb hit my loins and more precum boiled out of my cock head. I had never felt such a possession by someone, such a firm, positive grip on my manhood that made me feel terrific. I wanted this boy to ravish me in any manner he elected to. Was I being converted to being gay, bi? I didn’t know or care, I just wanted sex!

Doug now shifted his position and knelt up between my thighs. I could see his face now and he was smiling down at me with a look like one sees on the faces of Angels in books. We made eye contact and passion was ignited, lust expanded, and I felt almost a love for this boy who was grasping my tool in his strong hand. Doug reached up with his other hand and untied the robe tie and then he flipped it open, baring me head to toe, and to his will.

“There is nothing like being taken by another man, Paul,” Doug spoke. “Once you have been, it’s not easy to deny the need and desire to do it often, or to stay with men and forget women.”

As I was thinking to myself that there was no way I could ever forget being with women, Doug leaned forward and began to kiss and lick the head of my cock. Seeing this lad take my cock into his mouth nearly made me shoot right then. Doug firmly manipulated my cock skin up and down, jerking me off, and combined that with taking my cock into his mouth to suck on it and run his tongue all around and over the sensitive head, occasionally probing the cumhole with the tip of his tongue. Oh God I was in heaven! I gave myself up for Doug’s amusement.

Doug now removed his hand from my shaft and just swallowed me whole. I could feel my cock head hit the back of his throat and then slip into the tight opening and down his throat until his lips rested against my belly and balls. The pressure of tightness of his throat, and the heat in there, cause me to harden further and then I felt that undeniable feeling of impending eruption from my balls.

“Oh, God…Doug! I can’t take that, I’m gonna blow already…oh shit!” I almost yelled.

As if commanded, Doug began to bob his head up and down on my impaling cock even faster, suction and slurping noises periodically coming from the seal of his lips around my shaft. That was it for me.

“Ahhhh…..mmmmmm……oooooohhhhh ffuuuucccccckkkkkk!” I growled as I exploded in an orgasm more intense than any I could remember since my first youthful encounters with my first girlfriend. I shot spurt after spurt, and with almost painful force, down into Doug’s vacuuming throat. The room spun and rainbows of spots danced before my eyes as I almost passed-out from the intensity of the cum. It felt like I’d shot my balls down his throat!

Doug continued gently sucking on my deflating dick, cleaning up any escaped drops of my cum. When he was satisfied that was finished, he rose up and along my body to come face to face with me, a happy, dazzling smile upon his face, and then he locked his lips on mine and we kissed as only lovers can. Never in my wildest dreams or imaginings would I have been kissing a guy, yet…here we were. When we broke the kiss I could taste Doug and my own cum on my lips, and it was a heady concoction that tripped sensors within my being and made my cock begin to come alive almost at once…unheard of for me, especially these days in my middle age!

“I always want someone’s first time to be memorable,” Doug cooed. “Will this be memorable for you?”

“Holy fuck, Doug!” I said. “It’s gonna be so memorable that I think you erased all memories of any fucking I did before this!” I exclaimed, as I wrapped my arms around Doug’s upper back and hugged him to me and we kissed again, our tongues intertwining in their love dance.

Very stimulating and arousing, kissing Doug like this. Totally different than kissing a woman, because Doug’s skin was man skin…tougher, and he had a stubble growth of beard, which of course one wouldn’t expect around a woman’s mouth! And the mere knowledge that I was actually lip locking with a male youth amplified the whole thing.

As Doug and I cuddled, I suddenly detected movement against my groin on top of my right thigh and realized it was Doug’s own hardon throbbing against me! Another first! I’d never have anticipated an occasion where I’d have a guy pressing his rock hard prick against my belly. I felt a new surge of energy blast into my own cock as it began to return to full extension and hardness.

“I think someone’s looking for attention, ” I said, as I gazed into Doug’s sea blue eyes.

“Oh, you mean him,” Doug said, and he humped his hardness into my naked lower belly, the thin sateen material of his lounge pants seeming not to even be there, as I felt every square inch and detail of the sword being ground into me. It felt humongous! Far larger than my own moderately thick, seven-incher, which was grinding itself against Doug’s groin on his left side.

“Yeah…him,” I said, and reached down between us, searching for Doug’s grab iron as he hovered above me, watching me intently, a knowing smile upon his face. As I got close, Doug raised himself up slightly on his arms to make room for my hand to pass between us. I reached the waistband of his loungers and plunged right in, but didn’t have to travel far, as his rock monster was waiting right at the band for me, drooling from its cumhole. I slid my hand between Doug’s belly and cock, encircled the meat with my fingers and thumb, then closed them and squeezed. Damn! His prod filled my hand like a loaf of Italian bread! I tugged lightly on it a couple of times, bringing a closing of his eyes and moan from Doug, accompanied by slight hump motions.

“Oh that feels so nice,” Doug whispered. “Stroke me, get me hotter!” he commanded.

I did. I stroked Doug’s rod of steel from balls to tip and estimated it must be something in the neighborhood of ten inches and close to five around. On the upward tug I stopped at the top and put my thumb over the tip of Doug’s cock, like over the top of a pen, and I began to swirl the precum bubbling out all over the head of his member and then stroked my hand up into the oil and continued to stroke this pole of Doug’s like it was a piston in a cylinder. The feeling of his hard flesh running through my palm as I stroked gave me flutters in the gut and made my own erection throb all the more, with its own Vesuvius of love juice running down it.

Doug fucked my hand, jerking himself off for a few more moments, eyes closed and in a dream state. Then he suddenly leaned down and gave me another kiss and then raised himself up and stood between my legs, where he quickly pushed down his loungewear and stepped out of them. There, in all it’s tremendous circumcised glory, was Doug’s pulsing cock with its purple head and drooling like an big Mastiff dog. It was gorgeous, arousing in the extreme to view, and intimidating at the same time. I’d never had the occasion to look at another guy’s dick before, and now here I was staring down the business end of a veritable Howitzer! After staring at this spear for what seemed an hour, I looked up into Doug’s smiling face, his eyes twinkling knowing.

“You like what you see, Paul?”

“Damn, Doug!” I managed to say in wonder, “That is one monster piece of meat you’re swingin’ there! I’ve never seen anything like it in my life, nothing ever even near as long and fat, even in pornos and magazines!”

“That’s why I’m in ‘The Biz’,” Doug chuckled. “Once Sid got a gander at this tool of mine, he figured I was made for gay male porno and he recruited me immediately, and hasn’t regretted it once,” Doug proudly stated. “And the rest of me isn’t so bad to look at either,” he finished.

“Hell no!’ I said. “You’re one good looking kid and guys or girls would be attracted to you. And once they got a peek at this harpoon of yours, they’d be done, like me, and be unable to resist having some of it.”

“You want some of it, Paul?” Doug asked me, as he looked at me with a very horny and lascivious stare, stroking his own cock now with his right hand, making it stand even more ramrod straight and causing a thick and continuous flow of precum to drool from the tip and stretch to the floor. I could smell Doug’s musk now, mixed with the damp flesh of his rod. There was slick sound of friction as Doug’s hand passed to and fro along the distance of his dick, balls to pee hole.

“Yes,” was all I could manage to croak out, as I stared into Doug’s almost hypnotic eyes.

Doug stepped back a foot or so and reached out with his left hand, “Sit up, give me your hand,” he commanded.

I sat upright on the front edge of the couch, feeling a sudden coolness upon my back as the perspiration from our earlier lovemaking was evaporated in the air.

Doug stepped forward again and his cock was at the absolutely perfect level to be even with my lips. He moved in closer and, still stroking his meat, he began to rub the tip of his cock across my lips, coating them with his lube. He slid the head of his dick back and forth across my lips a few times, and then ran it all around and over my face, nose, and eyes. It was an amazing feeling to know this man was rubbing his sex glands all over my face, leaving his oils behind like a snail trail. He ended at my mouth and moved his dick head up and down against my lips and pushed forward slightly, and I opened my jaw wide to allow Doug to slide his monster over my bottom lip and into the heat and humidity of my mouth. I could feel the glands pass over my lip and then onto my tongue, the shape of the bottom of his mushroom head easily detected by my fully aroused nerve endings. His cock filled my mouth entirely, top to bottom, side to side. I felt as if someone had pushed their fist and forearm into my mouth! Doug eased himself forward, the length of his cock sliding deeper and deeper into my mouth and throat, like a spacecraft docking in its mother ship. I could feel the round tip of Doug’s rod push against the back of my throat and then continue on and into my throat, lubricated by my saliva and his copious lube oils. I was being impaled down the throat by this huge probe, and being more aroused than I could remember ever being before in my life. I wanted Doug to fully skewer me through my throat and out my ass! I wanted to consume this gorgeous young porn start and absorb his very essence. I leaned forward and into Doug as he moved forward and very quickly he was buried in my gullet to the hilt, his ball sack pressed firmly against my chin. I was thrilled and amazed that I could have taken the entire length and girth of this prick so far into my throat, and I didn’t even gag once! I felt the urge to, but I concentrated on relaxing my throat and neck muscles and denied the urge to regurgitate. I breathed through my nose, which was pressed firmly against Doug’s mons now, but like me, he shaved his pubic area, so there was no unpleasant tickling of my nostrils with hair. As I was concentrating on the fantastic feeling of being so completely filled with cock in my throat, Doug pulled back a few inches and then pushed in again and thus began a slow face fuck of me. My cock felt like it was being stood upon, it was so stiff, and pouring lube in a long, continuous strand from my hole to the floor. I had to reach down and pleasure myself to take the edge off. I looked up into Doug’s face as he fucked mine and saw that he was smiling down at me, and then he looked straight ahead and closed his eyes and put his left hand behind my head to steady it, and then he began long, steady strokes in and out of my throat. I used my tongue on the bottom of his shaft as best I could and ran it over the tip on the outstroke occasionally, but mostly Doug just maintained his in-out rhythm.

Doug began to pick up speed on his forward thrusts, pulling my head against him as he did so. I reached around Doug’s ass and grabbed onto his cheeks to steady him in his pistoning and to steady me as he increased his momentum fucking my face. It felt like on every in stroke his cock head was getting nearer the center of my abdomen, deep into my stomach, though of course I knew it was really only deep into my throat, perhaps approaching the esophagus top opening.

I could hear Doug’s breathing getting louder, faster, and then a big ragged. I knew what this signaled; I was about to get my very first bellyful of male cream! The mere thought had me almost pop my own load on the spot. I held onto Doug’s ass cheeks tighter now as he began to slam himself into my face, his cock feeling as if it would pop out of me between my tits.

“Ungh…ohhh…gasp! Oh God, Paul! I’m gonna let go any second, you better let me pull out!” Doug warned.

I looked up and into his eyes that were now watching my face and his own dick piercing it and gave him a look to let him know there was no way I was pulling off…I wanted his cum in my belly.

A pleased look came over Doug’s face. “Oh God, I want to cum in your throat, you handsome bastard cop!” Doug grunted. “You want it babe? Okay…I’m going to give…it…to…..youuuuuu!”

Doug growled and gasped, threw his head back, and yanked me onto him with his hand, his cock swelling, throbbing, and twitching, sliding deep down into my throat’s bottom and then letting loose with red hot sprays of man seed that I could feel travel up the entire length of Doug’s cock from his nuts and then blast forth from the cumhole to coat my esophageal opening. I could feel the area filling to the brim with shot after shot of his boiling cum. His cock felt like a long railroad spike nailed into me.

At last the eruptions came to an end and I could even detect a slight softening of the steel poker down my throat. Doug was now bent over with his belly on top of my head and arms down my back, panting. He slowly stood up and put his hands on either side of my head and then he pulled his meat out of my throat and mouth. I grabbed it as it exited my lips and stroked it, forcing the last pitiful pearls of cum up and out of the opening and leaned forward and gobbled the head of Doug’s penis again to suck him dry. He shuddered and nearly fell to the ground. I finally could taste his cum, now that I wasn’t so stuffed with his meat and my taste buds were in the clear. It was not an unpleasant flavor…sort of tart and thick, a hint of salty that made the sides of my tongue tingle.

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