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In The Mall...

By: gimmie_your_load



I was shopping at the mall, in my favourite department store, trying on some new skirt-and-blouse outfit combos for work. I tried on mostly classy stuff, but also a couple shorter skirts for wearing on a night out dancing. I collected 6 different outfits and went to the register to ask for use of the change room. I took notice of the handsome guy behind the counter, very chicly dressed as the guys at swanky stores always are, looking his best. 

I ask for use of the room and he smiles warmly at me, making no attempt to hide his graze as it drifted down my shapely body. After only a slight pause he told me "absolutely" and led the way to the door, glancing back over his shoulder to smile at me. He unlocked it and stood aside to let me in, and as I passed him, I wondered if his approval of my body was showing in the lump that brushed my thigh as I squeezed by. 

I thank him and smile as I close the door behind me. I start to try on the clothes and am surprised when I discover my panties are already damp from the short contact with what I could only assume was his penis. It had been so long since I had a nice hard cock to play with, and I was obviously very horny. I paused my trying on the outfits and sat in the chair, placing my legs up against the opposite wall and sliding my panties to one side. Nothing wrong with a quickie, I told myself. 

As I stroked my pulsing wet clit, I started to moan slightly and close my eyes with delight. In doing so I didn't notice that the door became unlatched and opened a crack while I pleasured myself. As I threw my head back, bit my lip, and stifled the screams inside me as my hips rocked in the ecstasy of my orgasm, I became suddenly aware of a presence near me. 

As my pulsing subsided I dared to open my eyes, and discovered to my horror that the door to the change room was fully open,revealing my indiscretion to the world. The sexy cashier was standing just outside the door, smiling ear to ear and with his blood engorged member solidly rigid in his hand. He slyly winked at me and motioned towards the metal screen pulled across the front of the store. 

"I decided to close up early..." he said, moving closer to me. 

I began to recover from my shock as I stared longingly at his stiff meat, and was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to make him cum in my mouth. I slid off the chair and began to crawl my way towards him on my hands and knees, dressed only in my frilly red bra and lacy red panties, still pulled to the side. As I crawled forward slowly I smiled up at his cock, admiring the smoothness and sexy sleekness of it. I remembered to make eye contact with him, even though there was only one part I was currently interested in. He stroked his cock softly and moaned... I could tell this wouldn't take long. 

I finally reached his feet and eagerly positioned myself on my knees in front of him, staring in awe as his member seemed to 'jump' with pulses from inside. I positioned my mouth centimetres from his cock and licked my full lips, watching him stroke his cock for me. He moaned and begged me to take him in my mouth. I hesitated, teasing him with the nearness of my warmth and let my hand drift down to my swollen clitorous again. I stared up into his eyes and suddenly pushed my mouth forcefully onto his dick, taking it all the way to the hilt

in one deft motion. 

I heard him groan as my nose pressed against his pubes and his cockhead slid into my throat, passing the barrier of my gag reflex. I held it there and felt his legs buckle and his whole body shake. He moaned loudly and held the back of my head, trying to force himself deeper inside me. My eyes started to water as he gyrated his hips into my face and held me on his pulsing rod. My nostrils flared as I tried in vain to get air around the shaft completely filling my airway. I pushed against his thighs, now needing a breath and desperate for oxygen. He held me a moment longer and then released my head and I pulled back and coughed a large amount of sticky saliva onto his cock as I gasped to air. He didn't give me long to recuperate. 

Within seconds I found myself once again with a cock down my throat, though now it was furiously pumping in and out of my mouth. I gagged slightly, a true testament to the girth of the cock pounding my throat, as I had long since developed deepthroating skills. I could hear his breath coming in laboured gasps now and knew he was getting very close to filling my mouth with his sweet nectar. I moaned with delight and gyrated my own hips, pressing my clit against my now sopping hand. 

I felt his balls tighten and his thrusts become less controlled and more primal. He grunted over me, and his sheer manliness, combined with the musky odour of his genitals pushed me over the edge; I began to climax on my own hand. I barely even heard his massive groan as he began to climax as well, thrusting deep into my throat and cupping his own balls tightly. Time seemed to slow then, and I was very aware of the saliva soaking the front of my chest, dripping from my chin. His hand roughly gripping my hair and pulling as his cock simultaneously pushed against the back of my throat. His first stream of cum rocketed into my stomach without a need to swallow, its warmth obvious all the way down. He backed his cock out and began what I can only describe as a primal yell as he stroked the base of his shaft, his hand hitting my lips with every up stroke. His second thick shot hammered into the roof of my mouth and gagged me with its size and intensity. I swallowed quickly but could not keep up as a third and fourth massive shot followed the second. My mouth quickly began to fill and I tasted the salty wad as it seeped into my cheeks and coated my tongue. 

He continued to stroke himself into my mouth and the cum didn't stop, coming in slow streams now, thick salty load filling my mouth faster that I could swallow, leaking out the corners of my mouth and down my chin in small rivulets. I moaned with pleasure and savoured the thick white cum that was my reward for all my hard work. His convulsions finally slowed and his cock ceased to leak cum into my mouth. I swallowed the last of it and licked my lips clean. I looked up at him and felt no attraction now that my lust was sated. Without a word I stood up and walked to my clothes, surely leaving him shaking his head in wonder...

In the Man-Sex Minefield



Chapter 1

I sprinted at full speed, stark naked, cock swinging, hiding my face, scrambling up the slope behind the beach to dive behind the bushes. Oh, shit! Oh, fuck! Oh, hell! Peering back through the branches, I saw Staff Sergeant Nilen looking the other way. Whew, that was close.

I gnashed my teeth. Buck naked and crouching behind the bushes, I felt like an idiot. Other nudists walking by on their way to the beach looked at me and snickered. 

SSG Nilen, self-appointed Battalion Queer Hunter (and well-known asshole), stalked up and down the nudist beach, defiantly wearing swimming trunks, looking from side to side. Any soldier he recognized at Oduva Beach soon got an investigation that smeared him with "suspected homosexual tendencies" and maybe a discharge from the Service.

I pounded my fists into the ground. Nilen lingered near my beach blanket -- with my swimming suit crumpled on it in a little pile. He couldn't know they were mine, but I bit my lip -- how am I going to get out of here? I had to take my wife shopping at the PX, and my son's school wrestling team had a tournament later on. All this is the US Army's fault The Army turned me into a queer!

A week earlier, my son Brian showed up at my office in HQ to beg me for a karate demonstration at his high school. Not my favorite thing to do. I was trying to talk him out of it when the battalion CO walked in. "Sergeant Dirius, I couldn't help but overhear. I think a karate demonstration at the school by our Battalion Training NCO would be great -- good recruiting move. As an expert in hand-to-hand, you could really give them a show" 

"Yes, sir, Colonel!" Damn.  

A few days later, at a 9:00 a.m. assembly at Pegumshi High School, I was introduced as "Master Sergeant Arnold 'Gorilla' Dirius from the 1st Battalion, 489 Infantry at Fort Wudicay! A great big guy who can take care of himself, and today he's going to show us some self-defense tricks!"

Applause. 

My damned staff had sent them that "Gorilla" bit. As a kid I got that nickname because my shoulders and chest are so wide, my arms so big, and my legs so short. Now I'm 6'4" but with a long torso, okay, I look like an ape.

I walked out in my Class A green uniform with all the medals and the beret. I took off the coat, rolled up my sleeves, and went through a few "And-Here's-What-To-Do-When-He" routines with a couple of the men from my staff. Simple stuff.

Hard work though, because the air-conditioning on the stage was on the blink, and by the time I did my last block and throw, we were sweat-soaked. After final applause, thanks, and handshakes, I asked if they would mind if we used the gymnasium showers. 

The high school shower room looked like a remodeled classroom -- windows bricked up and painted over, walls painted green, tile floor, shower nozzles jutting from the top of each wall about four feet apart. Smelled of bleach. "Help yourselves, gentlemen. These are the student showers, but you've got the place to yourself. Kids won't be back in here for an hour -- at the end of class. Towels are stacked in the locker room."

I stood under one of the showerheads and turned the faucet. A crooked stream shot out, most of it to the right, so I moved over to get under it. The others started showers several feet away, went through a quick rinse-down, and left. At my age, though, I enjoyed a good hot shower, and I took my time, lathering up and enjoying the warm water -- even cockeyed and at a slant. Ah, yeah, in a couple of years when I retire, I'll be done with all this.

"Wow, excuse me, we don't usually get body-builders in here!"

I looked back. A little guy dressed in blue gym trunks and a white Pegumshi High School T-shirt leaned against the doorframe. Wasn't a student -- looked about 25 -- and he looked like a movie star -- face like a young Robert Redford, blond hair, blue eyes, smile like a sunrise, and his tight T-shirt and shorts showed off a body from the cover of a body-builders' magazine. Physically perfect.

But in miniature. 

The guy was short. Very short. At least a foot shorter than I, barely over five feet. Top of his head would be at my chest. But like a lot of real movie stars who look tall unless you notice they have to reach up to the doorknob, this guy was the perfect male -- everything to scale. Broad, shoulders; hard, sculptured musculature; wedge-shaped torso narrowing down to slim hips. 

A living Ken doll. I snickered to myself. Handsome little runt! I cleared my throat. "I'm from Fort Wudicay, here to give a karate demonstration. Hot on that stage, though, so they brought us down here for a shower." As I spoke, the guy started pulling off his clothes and dropping them behind the doorway.

When he got down to an old, yellowed jockstrap, he looked up at me while he pulled it lower. Jeez! His cock flipped up harder than a tree branch and slapped against his belly. I blinked. Never been in the showers with a civilian before . . . and never with a guy with a hardon. In the barracks, this asshole would get arrested. Must be okay for civilians.

And what a hardon. Like a Coke bottle. Don't stare, idiot! That "huge" cock is just a normal one on a pint-sized hombre.

But damn, it really is like a Coke bottle! Wide at the base, then narrower, then wider again. I gulped. Even his cockhead is smaller than the shaft -- like a bottle cap. It's awesome.

Awesome? That word and a guy's cock do not go in the same thought!

Probably should've looked away, but I didn't. A tracery of veins all over it. Long foreskin made it look even longer -- sagged halfway to his knees from an erotic triangle of blond hair. Heavy balls hanging below it in a soft, wrinkled bag like two dumplings in a suede sac.

As I watched, he got a full-on, up-straight, throbbing and drooling hard-on. Damn, look at that thing!

When he saw me looking -- Caught red-handed!-- he looked down at my groin. "Nice one you got there. Real beaut. Your daddy by any chance a horse? The rest of you is pretty big."

My face felt hot. Great! I find myself naked and alone in a shower room with a queer! How fucking embarrassing!

He walked up next to me and turned on the shower at my right. He smiled, facing me, showing me that big cock. Never been in the showers with a man coming on to me, either. I glanced down again. It's true: looks huge, but he's so short, it's probably only seven or eight inches, just like everybody else's.

I was damned uncomfortable and wanted to get away from him, but not to move away to another showerhead. Didn't want to be rude. That was sure to get back to my CO. "Damn showerhead," I muttered, and I grabbed the thing, trying to bend it or wrench it or something to get the water squirting the other way.

"Here, let me help." The little queer dragged in a wooden crate, stepped up on it, and started yanking at my showerhead. That brought him closer, and that big hardon almost touched me! He grunted and yanked, but no change. 

Goddamn it, I've got to fix that thing! I jerked and banged at it, but the stream still came out to the right. Shit! I don't like this! Standing close to a queer was like seeing dog shit on the sidewalk -- the farther away you keep, the less you have to worry about it. I reached up with both hands and twisted at the pipe again.

Suddenly, with a quick movement -- CLICK! -- he handcuffed my wrists to the showerhead! "What the hell? What are you doing?"

"Doing you a favor."

I lurched back, but the pipe was solid! "You little piss-ant, I'll kill you!" He grabbed me around the neck, but I kicked out behind me, kicking away his crate. 

He didn't fall -- he had leaped off it -- and he got a lock on one of my arms. His other hand grabbed at my balls! He pushed me forward, and I lost balance, falling against the wall, hanging by the handcuffs from the shower pipe. 

Instantly he was on me, his legs kicking mine apart. "Lemme go! Goddamn it, I'll kill you!" But with my hands locked above my head, leaning helplessly against the shower room wall and my legs spread wide -- Oh, shit, he's got me!

Sure enough: his finger slathered something slimy -- what, Vaseline? Where in hell did he get that? -- into my ass-crack and over my asshole, then something bigger -- Oh, god, his cock! -- pushed into my ass-crack and slid up and down it. 

"God damn it!" I fought, struggling and lurching, and finally I managed to pull my legs back together and stand up tall, pulling away from his cock -- his hips were a foot lower than mine. "What's the matter, you little fucker? Too short for a real man? If I ever get loose, you're dead!"

I heard wood scraping on the tile floor. He was back on the crate, and suddenly his cock was diving between my cheeks again. I struggled to keep my hips away, but he kept pressing his cock into my crack, searching, searching . . . and finding! Oh, god, it's happening! 

FUCK!! A stab of pain like a bayonet up my asshole! Damn! Sonofabitch! It hurts!

The pain was a motherfucker, and he kept pushing until I was dizzy from the agony. How motherfucking humiliating! I will never live this down! When I get loose, I will kill this sonofabitch! "Stop, goddamnit!"

And he did! The bastard stopped moving! 

The pain eased off. Damn, what a relief! But I realized his cock was inside me! "Pull it out, you bastard!" But he didn't. I struggled again, but he held himself in me, and the more I lurched back and forth, the more it hurt. So I stopped struggling. Hurt too much. 

Panting. Gnashing my teeth. Tears in my eyes. Never been so fucking furious!

It hit me: the bastard was letting me adjust to his cock in my ass, where it shouldn't be! It was true. The pain eased off. My asshole is stretching.

After a few minutes he pushed in a few more inches. I stiffened -- again the bayonet up my ass -- but once more he paused, letting me swell around his size, letting me stretch, . "I'll kill you!" I gasped, "if I ever get loose, I'll break your fucking neck!"

Then sloosh! Sudden relief. My screaming asshole gratefully relaxed as it slid into that narrow part in his cock! "Got your cherry, big man. Feel my cock in your ass? Relax, man, you're going to like this; I can tell."

He's in me. A man has fucked me. I can never hold my head up again. 

And he's in only halfway! To the narrow waist on that Coke bottle of his. Then he slowly shoved in a couple more inches, and the pain came back! But not quite as bad. I bit my lip in humiliation -- I was adjusting to him. And worse, I couldn't help but spread my legs -- I had to. It eased the pain. I also stopped struggling -- anything to escape the pain. 

Finally I was breathing hard, in hoarse gasps, staring at the wall. Taking it as he shoved in more and more. As he spread me to his max, at his widest point at the base of his cock, the pain grew hotter until finally his cockhair scratched against my butt. He's in. All the way.

Again he held himself still, and again the pain faded away. Since I wasn't struggling, he placed his hands on my hips. I don't know how long we stood like that. Felt like hours. Probably only a minute. 

When he pulled it back, though, I was astonished. Since I was "adjusted" to it, it felt good! What?? What in hell is going on?

And when my asshole clenched into the narrow part of his cock as it went by, it was like a quick jolt of caffeine -- BAM! Pleasure so strong it made me see stars! 

Then stretch again over the wide part at the tip, and oh, my god! The pain fused into pleasure, and when he pushed in again, it was even more pleasure -- sizzling ecstasy until the jolt of joy across the narrow part, then fiery pain-pleasure in stretching to the max at the base of his cock! 

Damn! Never felt anything like that in my life! Again! Do it again!!

He did. He jabbed in and out, in and out, in and out, and pleasure beyond description burned me up! Can't take this! Can't stand it! Can't go on, can't -- with a groan, I gripped the shower pipe for support, and my hips began working toward him, matching his strokes.

"Yeah, big man, now you want it. Soon you'll be begging me." 

Couldn't help myself. He fucked me in long, slow, tantalizing thrusts, and every bump, vein, and ripple in his erection electrocuted my asshole. Every time his cock's "waist" went by, forcing a quick close & open of my asshole, I grunted. I bowed my head, glad he could not see my face. Fucking astonishing! Never felt anything like this!

Wanted it to go on forever.

The pleasure built higher and higher until I realized his big prick had fucked away my resistance. Glad this isn't my fault. He's raping me. Might as well enjoy it. No shame in that. I worked with him like a real fuck-buddy.

But he stopped. Stopped! Pulled his magic bottle from my buttocks and stood back! From floating on a cloud of pleasure, I came crashing back to the steamy shower room. I looked back. He was grinning. "Say it, sergeant, tell me what you want."

I said nothing. Little fucking queer! He rubbed his cock up and down my fevered ass-crack again. Teasing. Tantalizing. Torturing! A Coke bottle dabbling at the lips of a man dying of thirst.

"Go on, say it, big man. You know what you want. Tell me."

Can't stand it! Couldn't hold back a moan. "All right," I hissed, "do it! Do it again!"

His cock still stroked at my crack. "Do what, old man?"

Old man? I was pissed again. The little prick! I'm old enough to be his father, but when I get loose, I'm going to be his executioner! 

But my immediate problem was that my asshole was on fire with need. I gnashed my teeth. "Stick it in, you squatty little runt! Stick it in me!"

"Stick what in you? You're a cock-hungry fag; you know what you want. You're a big piece of meat aching for a real man to use that tight hole! Say it, shithead! Beg me!"

I gave up. I spread my legs wide, tilted up my ass, and roared, "Fuck me! Stick that big schwanz up my ass and fuck me, you bastard!"

"Say 'please.'" 

Never been treated like that before. Never! And to my horror, feeling like a slut, a whore, his fuck-bitch, set me on fire! "Please. Please! Fuck me with that big cock! Ram it up my hole! I want it! I want you to!!" 

He did. The little shit sank that magic cock back in me, ramming full-length in a single stroke. It hurt, but already stretched wide-open, I loved the pain -- it was part of the pleasure. He let himself go, lunging into me with full-length rams, slamming our pelvic bones together, driving me out of my fucking mind. 

I couldn't believe it. A man is fucking me, a little guy I could kill with one arm! And I begged him to! No denying it -- his big dick lunging up my ass was fabulous! The pleasure grew stronger and stronger, higher and higher until -- Oh, no, it can't be -- he fucked me over the edge! 

The mother of all orgasms started in my scrotum. I looked down as my own cock, harder than an iron stake, spurted my white man-juice all over the shower room wall in gigantic, slimy globs. How fucking humiliating! I came for him! A little runt sticking his prick in my ass! Didn't even touch myself!

He kept thrusting at me, prolonging my afterglow, keeping me at a hot, horny, purring simmer until, driving his crank up me in short, rugged jabs, he reached his own climax. In a frenzy, his hands gripped my ribs, and he sank his cock up me so deep, he gave me another short pleasure-burst, almost a mini-orgasm!

He stood plugged into me while his dong shot his rounds into my gut, filling me with warmth. His fingers dug into my ribs -- I'll have bruises there tomorrow -- but drunk with lust, I loved it. Yeah, grab me, dig your fingers into me, hurt me, you little bastard!

Panting like a racehorse! I loved it! Can't believe it! Never cummed so hard. Rivulets of my sperm ran down the wall from levels about as high as my head! What an orgasm! My ass glowed like a spent volcano. 

His big cock inside me was a lightning-rod of happiness, and suddenly my whole world pivoted! I felt good! Never cummed this hard with Ulrike. It hit me like a case of Coke bottles falling out of the sky: This motherfucker of an orgasm was not from fucking! This was from being fucked!

When he finally pulled out his softening weapon, I felt emptied -- like something was taken away, stolen from me. I bit my lip. The little guy's cock in my ass rearranged my guts, but somehow it made even bigger changes in my brain. I want it back. I want it again.

About then I heard another click, and the handcuffs fell open. I let go of the water pipe and fell against the wall. Then I stood up and turned around. He had hopped off the crate and moved away, looking at me closely, in a defensive crouch. Both of us were still breathing hard.

I looked down and flicked some of the last drops of cum from my cock. "That was rape," I said quietly. "Oughta break your neck." 

I had to say that. Masculine pride. He had fucked me, after all, and I outweighed him by 100 pounds and was at least twice his age! He said nothing. I looked down at his face. "But I won't. Most incredible feeling I ever had. Never cummed that hard in my life."

He smiled. "Thought you might like it." He moved closer. "Sorry about the handcuffs."

I lowered my voice. "You won't need them next time." Oh my god, did I say that??

He smiled and moved toward me. Cautiously. Uncertain. When he was close enough, I bent down and kissed him. Ohmigod, I'm kissing a man!

But what a kiss! Our mouths wallowed together, open, tonguing, as men kiss. 

I crossed a big line; things would never be the same -- but somehow his kiss erased everything in my brain but one thought: I want that little man's cock to stretch my ass again!

Finally he pulled away. "The kids will be back in here soon. I'll wait for you out by the lockers." He walked out, leaving me trembling, confused, breathing hard.

I leaned back against the wall, the shower rinsing me off, and reality and panic seeped into my brain. God damn, what have I done? How can I ever live this down? I staggered out to the locker room.

Some of the students were coming in from the track, and they looked at me with surprise -- Damn, can they tell I just got fucked? Does it show on me somehow?

I walked over to where the little man stood at an open locker, fully dressed in his blue shorts and white T-shirt. I looked at his crotch, admiring the bulge. That just taught me a new way of life. My asshole twitched. Not now. Kids are back. Damn.

He smiled, and his voice was low. "Want to get together again?"

"Yeah." My voice was tiny. Like a little boy's. What's come over me?

"How about a motel room?"

All night long. That big dick humping me into the bed. The little man forcing me to do whatever he wants. My cock throbbed up hard and tented my towel. But I bit my lip. "Naw, that won't work. If anybody from the Army saw me or the motel records, all hell would break loose!"

He closed the locker. "Tell you what: I'll meet you this very afternoon at 4:00 at Oduva Beach. It's a nudist beach, so if anybody from the Army sees you there, he'd have to be there naked, too, and what's he doing there?"

Weird logic, but it makes sense. "Okay. I have a big tiger-stripe beach towel. You can't miss it. I'll meet you there at 4:00."

He looked around -- no kids were looking -- then patted me on the butt. "And keep that nice, tight ass lubed up for me. I'm not done stretching you open." 




In the Man-Sex Minefield



"Yeah." Again the little-boy voice. What is wrong with me? A hour ago if a man patted me on the ass I would snap his spine! Now I'm purring and wiggling my butt for him. He turned and walked away, leaving the dressing room. I pulled on my uniform and boots and walked out to my car, my head buzzing, my life upside-down.

On my way back to the fort, I looked at people in the other cars. When another driver glanced back, I almost flinched. Does he know? Can he tell? I felt like "QUEER" was written across my forehead. As I cooled off, the full horror of what I just did sank in. Almost started crying. Damn, a whole fucking lifetime flushed down the toilet! Perfect record! Never looked at a man! 

Tears in my eyes. Now a man has fucked me like a bitch! Turned my ass into a cunt! I gritted my teeth. And he was a goddamned fucking runt! My waist is bigger than his chest! I could've knocked him cold with my little finger!

If I had any self-respect as a man, I'd steer the car into that telephone pole!

I'm a wimp. A fairy. A fucking faggot! I should go down to the slums and sit on a street corner begging to suck anybody's cock! Make my living as a whore. "Fuck the ex-Army Queer! He's a wimp pussy! His cunt is yours for five cents!"

I blinked the tears out of my eyes, trying to think clearly. Okay, The fact is that the only physical, actual change is that I have a man's sperm up my ass. 

My brain got on a new track: Only one other person knows what I just did. Nobody in those cars knows. There was the key: as far as those people were concerned, they didn't know me, didn't know what happened to me. As if it never happened. Never happened. The key: It never happened.

But it did happen.

No! The official line from now on is It never happened. I will go on the rest of my life reciting that, and life will go back to normal. I will not go to Oduva Beach this afternoon, and I sure as hell will never go to that high school again. Life will be normal. I'll be okay.

Got back to my office about noon. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the big Coke bottle lunging in my ass, felt the ecstasy, heard the dirty, humiliating words he said to me. My ass itched, and I couldn't scratch it. When I saw a soldier drinking from a Coke bottle, a blurb of pre-cum spurted into my underwear.

Things got weirder: I started seeing through the uniforms of the men around me. I saw hairy chests through the Army Combat Uniforms, the camouflage ACUs, what we used to call "fatigues." I saw manly rods behind the bulges in those pants.

Couldn't stop thinking about male bodies. Wonder what Jameson's cock looks like. Could the guy driving that truck have a big one? I bet Captain Affen has big balls. Look at that guy, I know his dong is down his left pantleg!

PFC Tommy Peckrin was a Training Office clerk. High school dropout from Kentucky. How he got into the Army was anybody's guess. GED certificate, maybe, or intervention of a congressman. Nice enough kid, but his tricycle had only two wheels. Dumb as a bag of nails. But age 20 or so, he stood a good six feet tall and country-boy strong. Built like a racehorse.

Wonder if he's got a cock to match. Maybe I'll follow him to the latrine next time he goes.

Stop this, goddamn it! It never happened! It never happened!! Stop thinking about men!

SSG Nilen walked by. Weasely fucker. Just my luck the bastard worked in some admin job in another office in my building. Always polished boots. Perfectly pressed uniform. 

Not supposed to starch ACUs -- they're supposed to be loose to disguise the body, make it harder for the enemy to spot. But Nilen's uniform looked like a tuxedo painted in camouflage. 

Real creep. Easiest way to climb the Army success ladder is to step on other people, and Holy Joe had decided he was going to clean the Army of "undesirables." After talking to the guy a couple of times in the NCO club, I kept away from him. He was like a roach crawling up your leg.

And I could be in his sights. Did he give me a funny look? Did he catch me looking at Peckrin? Damn!

I daydreamed at my desk. I'm leaning against the wall in a high school shower room, getting the hottest sex of my life. The loop played over and over in my head. Stop this! It never happened! 

I left the building for lunch. I'm okay. Everything is normal. Maybe I'll sneak in a beer. In the NCO club with a burger and a Bud, I looked around. The bartender smiled at me. Why's he doing that? Is he coming on to me? Did I give him some sign? Can he tell I've been fucked? 

For hell's sake man, stop it! It never happened! It never happened. Nobody knows. It never happened!

When I got back from the NCO club, PFC Peckrin was waiting for me, talking again about his dream of getting a transfer into MI training and becoming a spy. Again, I tried to head him off. "Peckrin, as a Private First Class, your duties in a Military Intelligence unit would be the same -- typing."

"Yeah, I know, Sarge--"

--"That's 'Master Sergeant' to you, PFC."

"Right, Master Sergeant, but I could work my way up to being a spy. I want to be a convert operative!" 

"That's 'covert.'" What a moron. I went back to work in my own office.

1:00 o'clock. It's over. Back to normal. I'm working here. Everything is normal. I signed a few papers. Sniped a bit at Peckrin for misspellings in a report he typed up. 

"How 'bout if I take some correspondence courses on being a spy? It would raise my subject-awareness, right?"

He's like a buzzing fly. Doesn't even know what "subject-awareness" means. "Yeah, Peckrin. Go ahead. Knock yourself out." 

2:00 o'clock. I'm not going to that beach. It never happened. Never happened. Never happened.

3:00 o'clock. I'm not out of control. It never happened. Life will be normal.

At 3:30 I walked out to my car, arguing with myself all the way. Drove off the base so confused, I could hardly keep the car on the road. I found the car heading toward the coast. Still arguing out loud with myself -- I followed the signs to Oduva Beach. 


"Oduva Beach. Swimsuit Optional." Stupid bastard, that sign is the Gate to Hell! This is a mistake! Get out of here!

Once parked, I stripped off my uniform in the car. Don't do this! Stop now!

I pulled on a swimming suit -- for the walk out of the parking lot -- and put my uniform in the trunk. I picked up my tiger-stripe beach towel and a jar of Vaseline. No, you can still stop this! Get back in the car! Drive away!

I made my way down to the beach, spread out my towel, and stripped off my swimming suit. Damn, look at me, I'm naked! In public! Stripped bare out in the sunshine!  Nervous as hell, I looked around. Well, at least everybody else is naked, too. 

Everything about Oduva Beach looked "normal" -- blue surf, golden sand, hills sloping up from the beach to the higher ground behind. In the distance I could see an offshore oil rig. But all around me was naked flesh. Cocks, tits, balls, cunts. What a horny place! I couldn't come here and not have sex afterward -- which is why I'm here.

Fifteen minutes went by, and -- Oh my god, Nilen!!

I leaped up and ran for the bushes. Damn! Damn! Damn! This is too much of a coincidence! He must be looking for me. Must have followed me down here, the son of a bitch! That really pissed me off. The bastard has no business stalking members of the military!

Then -- train-wreck upon train-wreck! -- I spotted the little guy from the high school approaching from the opposite end of the beach. As I watched from the bushes, my asshole tingled, and I clenched it. What a stud! He walked up to my tiger-striped beach towel and looked around. 

I saw myself wallowing in the sand under him, feeling that big cock gouging me like a whore, hearing him treat me like shit. I pounded my fists in the dirt. Damn! Damn! Damn! With my swimming suit lying back there on my beach towel, I was stuck in the nude. I had two choices: (1) lie there until Nilen left -- or wandered over this way and caught me, or (2) sprint back to my car stark naked. 

I chose #2. I took a deep breath, waited till Nilen faced in the opposite direction, jumped up, and ran as fast as I could. Full-speed up the trail to the parking lot, I passed other people on the way -- most of them dressed, but I didn't care. My real worry was a cop spotting me naked in the parking lot, where I would be "Indecent Public Exposure."

I made it. Snatching my uniform from the trunk, I dived into the car and got dressed. Then I roared out of the parking lot and sped toward home. It never happened! Fate took care of me. I missed the guy at the beach -- I'll never see him again. 

I bit my lip. So my life as a queer is over.

I wanted to have sex with my wife Ulrike that night. I needed it. I needed to make a point. But she didn't want to. I kept after her. 

"Will you stop that? I'm not in the mood!"

"You haven't been 'in the mood' for weeks!"

"If you don't keep your paws off me, it's going to be months!"

Shit. When Ulrike was in a bad mood, she could turn a sunny day into a UV scare, a steak dinner into a Spam sandwich, and sex into jacking off on a cake of ice.

The next morning, I sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and the newspaper. My son came bouncing down the stairs and poured himself a bowl of corn flakes. 

I read the weather forecast. Partly cloudy. Isolated thundershowers. "What's new with you, Brian?"

"Got a new wrestling coach," he mumbled with his mouth full. "Now I'm 18, he moved me to the varsity team."

I turned to the sports page. Hey, the Pirates lost another game! "That's great, real good, Brian." ...and Gomez dropped another pop fly. When are they going to get rid of that guy? "How's school?"

I didn't hear what he mumbled. No wonder stadium attendance is down. They have to start winning games.  Brian finished and left. I looked up. I really should spend more time with him.

Later that morning, I made a "courtesy visit" to the Post Gymnasium to meet a new Officer In Charge, a Captain Sorrento. As Battalion Training NCO, I wanted to work out a few physical-fitness guidelines with the new gym OIC so battalion training could dovetail with procedures at the gym -- have the assistants there push our guys to higher levels. Life is back to normal. It never happened. Life is back to normal.

The post gymnasium had two tall bushes on either side of the main door. Once they were probably squared off and handsome, but generations of Privates made to "go out and trim the bushes" had clipped them down into two rounded, uneven towers, bigger at the tops (because they were harder to reach) and spreading and shapeless at the bottoms (where a lazy soldier wouldn't bend over to trim). 

They look like two big, green cocks! Even have cockheads and balls! I chuckled. 

Stop it! Stop thinking about cocks! It never happened! It never happened!

When I walked into the gym's office, I stopped at the front desk. The man pecking at the typewriter had a square, handsome face. Brown hair, Army buzz-cut. Dressed in the Army PT uniform -- gray T-shirt and black boxer shorts. Broad shoulders. Big chest, jutting pecs. Like tank turrets. T-shirt too tight. I can see his nipples! Maybe I'll make Peckrin wear a PT uniform. 

Goddamnit! Think about something else!!

I cleared my throat. "Master Sergeant Dirius. Here to see Captain Sorrento."

"Just a minute, I'll tell him you're here." A few seconds later: "Go on in."

I walked into the gym OIC's office. And my mouth dropped open.

He looked up from some paperwork. Ohmigod, NO! Of all the people in the world!!

The short little guy with the blond hair and Coke-bottle cock looked up from his paperwork. "Well, I'll be damned. Missed you at the beach yesterday."

I was too astonished to talk. Finally I squeaked, "You're in the Army? . . . sir?"

"Hope so. Otherwise I could get arrested for wearing this uniform."

Still squeaking. "You're . . . the Officer In Charge?"

"Yes again."

"But the high school..."

"Volunteer work. Couple hours a week. I like to work with the kids." He lowered his voice. "But I love to work on men. How come you didn't show up at the beach? I saw your towel -- or I thought it was yours. Where were you?"

"I was there, sir, but spotted somebody I recognized from the battalion. Didn't want him to see me -- us, sir. Couldn't stick around. Sorry."

He leaned back in his chair and reached down to unzip his fly. As I stood frozen, he pulled out that magnificent Coca-Cola. Hard, the cockhead peeped out of his foreskin. 

I licked my lips, and he smiled. "Go lock the door, bitch. Quietly."

Bitch! Nobody calls me a bitch. But I shut the door, sliding the bolt slowly to Lock, and when I turned back, Sorrento had moved around to the front of his desk. I bent down to hug him, and his mouth met mine in a kiss -- actually painful -- his lips crushed against mine with power. He was a man. We rubbed our tongues together -- and I squatted to rub our hard cocks together down below. Like a gorilla hugging a monkey.

It's happening again. I reached down to grasp his cock. Slimy with pre-cum. Hot in my hand. I stroked it, feeling that weird narrower part, and he moaned in my mouth. Finally he pulled his lips away. "Suck my cock, bitch," he whispered.

"What? I'm not a cocksucker!"

"Hey, I fucked your ass, and now you crave it. Suck my cock, you cum-slut, and you'll like that, too." He smiled. "You know you're my whore."

The little fucker! I'm going to punch him right in the face! But I sank to my knees -- damn, going down for a kid, a runt, a boy half my age! -- and it was worse than just kneeling: I had to bend over still more to bring my face down to his crotch. 

There I smelled him. Sweat and soap. Like a flower wrapped around a greasy wrench. Rugged and beautiful. And something else, fainter but more haunting, the musk of male. Combination of foreskin aroma, fumes from his buttocks, the smell of his chest. The aroma of sperm churning in his cojones. Not a pretty smell, a muddy boot tromping on a poetry book. The time for gentility was over.

I gripped his cock, licked my lips, then licked the drooling head. Salty. Tangy. Slimy salad dressing. I liked it. I slid my lips further down the shaft, feeling the narrowed "waist," then spread my jaws wide, mouth open to a huge "Ah" as I took it all, my nose burrowed into his golden cockhair. 

"Uh, yeah, bitch, deep-throat that big cock!"

"Bitch" again! How I have changed. A day ago I would have killed anybody who called me that. Now . . . have to admit it . . . I like it. Pre-cum sputtered out of my own cock.

I pulled back to center my tongue under his cockhead, and I hummed a bass note while pressing my tongue on that magic spot. He gasped. Yeah, he really likes this.

Time to get him off. I sucked, bobbing my head while jacking the shaft, and he wound his fingers into my hair with a moan, yanking hard. Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah! Hurt me! Make me yell!

I groped his balls. Yep, he's almost there! Balls are up and locked, ready for firing. I kept sucking, and sure enough, his hips jerked. "Angh, God! Cumming! Suck that jizz, you meat-hole! Taste a real man!"

When it swelled in my mouth, I hummed once more as he went nuts, breathing in rapid gasps, and clawing at my head. Yeah! Yeah! Treat me rough! -- and suddenly I was swallowing hot muck, gushing in heavy bursts, splurting from the sides of my mouth! 

At the same time my own manhood blasted off inside my pants, pumping spurt after spurt into my underwear! Son of a bitch, this little fucker really gets to me!

Couldn't swallow fast enough. Strong taste. Hard to describe. Salty. Bleachy. Kick like alcohol. Only description I could think of was MALE. I loved it. Sucked down as much as I could and rubbed my thumbs up the big tube under the shaft, pumping the last gobs out and licking them up. But big slimes had run down my chin. Damn! Snail tracks on my uniform.

Sorrento relaxed, leaning back against his desk. He's happy. In the afterglow. I kept his cock in my mouth, sucking until it finally softened to a fat piece of leather. Then I stood up.

"Good job, Sarge. You are one hot man-cunt. A big gorilla who knows his place."

My cock swelled again to full hardness at those words. Damn, how I love how this little shit treats me like shit. How sick! I cleared my throat. "Thank you, sir." 

I glanced down at my uniform. Damn. Cum globs and a big wet spot in my pants. But the digital ACUPAT camouflage pattern made them look like just another design.

Tucking himself back in his pants, Sorrento looked at me and smiled. "Nice to have a bitch handy."

God, what a thing to say! I blinked. But it's true. I'm his bitch. His cum-slut. Anytime he wants me. I smiled back. "When do you want to get together again, sir?"

"I'll have to figure that one out. I don't want to get caught, either." He stood up straight. "That will be all, bitch. From now on, keep a small jar of Vaseline with you at all times. I'll be in touch."

I came to Attention, saluted him, quietly unlocked the door, and marched out. I looked at the stud at the typewriter. Wonder if Sorrento has fucked him. I thought about PFC Peckrin. Damn, get a grip!! 

I opened the outer door and strode out.

Chapter 2

Walked right into SSG Nilen. Almost knocked him down as I came out of the door. "Sergeant Nilen."

"Master Sergeant Dirius."

He got out of my way, and I strode past. Damn, what if he had come 30 seconds earlier? I gulped. I didn't like the way he looked at me. That fucker is stalking me!

As I walked down the sidewalk, the breeze cooled something on my chin. I brought my hand up, and my finger came away with a glob of cum! Ohmigod! My blood ran cold. Oh, shit, oh, fuck, oh, hell! He had to have seen it!

That does it! This has got to come to a motherfucking, screeching halt!! No more man-sex! 

I bit my lip. I'll bet Nilen's already working up a report.

No! He hasn't caught me yet, no real proof yet.  But all he needs is one more piece of the puzzle.

I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and placed my hand over my heart. I swear, goddamnit, I SWEAR this man-sex shit is over! No more!

The rest of the day I worked like a madman. Filled out piles of forms. Typed dozens of requisitions. Drove around, inspected three training ranges, and checked off the good, bitched about the bad. Worked hard. Ended up in such a frenzy, at the end of the day an MP Jeep pulled me over for speeding.

That night I gave Brian the keys to the Mustang, and when he drove away, I brought out a bouquet of flowers I picked up on the way home. "Honey, I haven't been paying you enough attention lately, have I?"

She didn't smile. "Arny, we have a problem--"

--"Yeah, I know, and I'm going to--"

--"No, that's not it. You don't understand--"

--"Yeah, I get it. We'll share more time togeth--"

--"I've got a lover."

"Yeah. And I'll be an even better one--"

--"Arny! It's not you!!"

"What . . . what are you saying?"

"It's . . . it's nobody's fault. He just swept me off my feet. He really makes me feel like a woman..."

I felt like a fighter plane going down in flames. I heard a roaring in my ears. "And what do I make you feel like? A man??"




In the Man-Sex Minefield



"Yes, as a matter of fact, you make me feel like one of your soldiers, somebody to do your bidding!"

I dropped the flowers on the floor and stomped out to the bar in the living room, where I made myself a double Scotch. When I finished that, I went into my study. 

Aimless, not aware of what I was doing, I turned on the computer. The icon said I had an email. I clicked on it.

"I need some relief. Meet me at 2130 at restroom in Uzopo Park. Don't wear underwear. Sorrento"

Damn! I looked around. I was alone. Shit, how'd he get my email address? I choked. Anybody could have seen that! I checked the arrival time -- 20 minutes earlier. I was safe. I've got to talk to him about that!

Thought you weren't going to see him again.

Well, I have to now, don't I?

For email or for sex?

I drummed my fingers on the desk. I had a hardon. My asshole was buzzing, clenching eagerly. I bowed my head. For sex.

At 9:00 p.m. I took off in my wife's van, headed for Uzopo Park. Once there I walked casually to the restroom. Very dark. The streetlight was out -- somebody hit it with a rock. The building was lit inside, though. 

There I found Sorrento in a gray sweatsuit. "Good man. Glad to see you, Sarge."

"Don't call me 'Sarge' here!"

"Don't worry. There's no one here. Anyway, you're my bitch."

So damned humiliating! If only he wouldn't say shit like that!

You know that's not true. That's what turns you on to the bottom of your balls. I spoke aloud: "Yeah. Come on, fuck me. Make me your bitch!" My asshole ached to feel him stretch it. I unbuckled my belt. 

"No, not enough time for that. Just give me a blowjob."

Damn! "But, uh, you said not to wear skivvies, and . . . I've got the Vaseline..."

"Yeah, but I've got a date with a real horny bitch, and I've got to go home and get changed."

A date?? 

No, damn it, you are NOT going to get jealous! This is a MAN! You are NOT in a relationship with a man! I took a deep breath. This is just fucking! A one-nighter! Wham, bam, thank you, man! Nobody owns anything about anybody!

Pissed, I gritted my teeth. I want that cock up my ass. I almost cummed back home when I took off my underwear for him. My asshole was buzzing all the way over here. And now he's going to fuck some lucky bitch in the town. She'll get that--

--He yanked down his sweatpants. No underwear. There it is. That big, wonderful thing! Pissed but helpless, I knelt at his legs, bent down, and gripped his all-conquering rod. I opened my mouth and sank down all the way, deep-throating him from the very beginning. 

"Cock-hungry faggot. How does it feel to suckle a real man's cock?"

I was bitter, but the words put me in a fuck-daze. Since he wanted a quickie, I bobbed my head on him, urging him on, aching, eager to drink his sperm -- somehow it was my duty, what I owed him, my place.

He let out a yell, and I sucked hard, eager, thirsty, craving -- but the little bastard lost his balance and fell back. His cock yanked out of my mouth at the moment he came, and the big jets of hot jizz splattered all over my face. Damn!

Then we heard the restroom door open. Sorrento leaped away from me and dived into a stall. I stood up quickly, just as SSG Nilen walked into the room. Gloating grin. "Master Sergeant Dirius, imagine meeting you here." 

Caught like a rat in a trap. I had cum running down my face, dripping from one eyelid. 

"What's that dripping from your face, Master Sergeant?"

"Soap suds," I said coldly and shouldered past him toward the door--

-- as the room lit up from a camera flash! 

I looked back to see him holding up a cell phone. Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god. In a panic, I ran outside, and in the darkness, my brain spun like an eggbeater. He's got me, it's all over!

No, it's still his word against mine!

But he has a picture!

Of what? Soapsuds on my face?

Cum doesn't look like soapsuds! 

Not that easy to prove from a snapshot!

As I hurried back to the van, I saw a figure standing near it. As I got closer, in the moonlight I recognized Brian! 

His eyes grew wide as he spotted the jizz dripping from my face. "Dad, what have you been doing?!" 

Chapter 3

"Dad! What's that all over your face?"

Damn! I reached up to wipe the sperm out of my eye and catch the gob drooling down my cheek.

"That looks like . . . is that really . . . you were in there to . . . oh, Dad! You, of all people--"

--"Brian, I can explain!" I looked over my shoulder. Nilen hadn't come out yet -- probably waiting in there to see who came out of the stall. "But right now I need to get out of here!" Brian's face was still a portrait of shock. "Let's go home, Brian. I'll talk to you there."

Now what? Now what? Now fucking what?? 

I was tempted to floor the gas pedal and drive the van off a cliff. Fuck, is there anything about my life that hasn't hit a brick wall? 

As I pulled into our driveway, a thousand explanations seethed in my head, but none of them was true, none was believable, and none is going to get me out of this! I got out and watched my Mustang pull up to the curb, and Brian got out. As he walked closer, his face was neutral. Poker face. Couldn't read him. 

Fuck, where do I begin? "Brian, I want to tell you--"

--"Dad, I . . . I don't think you have to tell me anything." His expression grew worried. "It's . . . it's your life. Your private life. Everybody . . . has a private life, I guess."

"Brian, I don't know how to--"

--"It just surprised me, that's all. In school we read about people's inner selves . . . how they're often different from the surface . . . and we shouldn't judge--"

--"It's more complicated . . . Brian, I'm sorry; that's all I can say--"

--"Dad, can we talk about this later? I need to think for a while." With that, he turned away and hurried up the walk, disappearing into the house.

When I entered the house, Ulrike was watching TV in the family room. I went to the bar in the living room and poured myself a double Scotch. Damn, what a day! I sat on the couch, holding the cool glass against my cheek -- and feeling flakes of dried cum. If Sorrento didn't have such heavy-duty balls, I wouldn't be in this fix! The bastard. I wanted to get fucked. I got nothing. 

I bit the glass, almost cracking it. I got caught, and I GOT NOTHING!!

To my surprise, Brian walked into the room. "Dad, I need to ask you something."

Cool down, get control of yourself! "You can ask me anything. Son, I'm very sorry you saw--"

--"No, I don't want to talk about that right now. Got to get it straight in my head first." He stood in front of me. "It's something else: now that I'm on the varsity team, I want to take part in a wrestling competition at another school, and you have to sign some parental permission papers." 

"Okay, just bring them to me."

"The coach wants to meet all the parents. Can you go by the school?"

"Yeah, Brian, I will. Maybe next week." Before I could say anything more, he was gone. Back up the stairs to his room.

I got up and went to face the wife. She was watching "American Icon." I cleared my throat. 

She looked up at me. "Arny, I've been thinking." 

"What about?"

"Us. You and me and Brian. And Jeff."

"Jeff? Is that his name? I should get my gun and kill the bastard!"

"No, you're not going to do that! Arny, our marriage has to loosen up some."

I said nothing.

"I don't think we should break up. It would be hard on Brian. I don't want to go through the nightmare of a divorce." She took a deep breath. "I just think that we should allow each other to . . . fulfill our needs . . . with whomever we . . . choose to."

My Scotch suddenly tasted like oatmeal. "You mean you want to fuck around while I stay home like a good boy."

"Well, in all fairness, you could--"

"But I haven't! Ulrike, in all the years of our marriage, I never looked at another woman!"

She got angry, too. "Well, it's as simple as this: if you want to stay in this marriage, live in this house, and be a part of this family, you're going to loosen up and give me a little freedom!"

I clamped my mouth shut and glared at her.

"As a matter of fact, I want to you meet him."

"No!"

"Yes! I'm going to bring Jeff to the house tomorrow night, and you're going to meet him! I'm going to have a relationship with him, you're going to accept him as my lover, and that's that!"

I stomped out of the den. Back to the bar. Poured myself another double. And another. And another.

I woke up the next morning on the living room couch. 

That day I couldn't keep my mind on my duties. Kept thinking about suicide.

Anything to take a break, I decided to run the Brian's Coach Errand rather than wait till next week. I hopped in the car and drove to Pegumshi High School, the scene of the crime. The front office told me I could find the wrestling coach in Room 212, and after a few minutes I found it. 

I should have knocked. Don't know why I didn't. Mind was buzzing with other problems. I opened the door, walked in -- and gasped.

Captain Sorrento's handsome bubble-butt was bobbing up and down as he was mounted on and fucking Brian!! My son, completely naked, crouched on hands and knees on the hardwood floor, took Sorrento's big cock happily, panting, his head raised in ecstasy, his eyes clenched shut.

Even at such a thundering moment, in the back of my mind I couldn't help noticing -- Sorrento is such a runt. He's even shorter than Brian. Looks like a bulldog fucking a German Shepherd.

I coughed, and both turned and looked at me, eyes wide in shock. When Sorrento recognized me, his hips went back to lunging. Brian, however, looked like he was about to cry. "Dad! Oh, god!"

Sorrento looked up at me. "Take your clothes off, Sarge, and get on your back. You're next."

At first I was pissed. Just a fucking minute! You leave me hanging so you can go fuck some bitch, and now you want me to lie down for you? But seeing Brian, I realized a picture is worth a thousand explanations. He's obviously already a player, so I unbuckled my belt and dropped my green Army pants. 

Brian's eyes widened in astonishment. While Sorrento's Coke bottle continued to ream out his ass, I pulled off my shoes, took off my shirt, and stripped down my underwear -- I'm wearing underwear this time, you bastard! My cock was hard, and Brian's eyes grew even wider.

He stared as I lay back beside him. "Dad," he hissed, "you too??"

"Dad? Did you say 'Dad'?" Sorrento stopped lunging. "This is your kid, Sarge?"

"My son Brian."

"Well, I'll be damned. I've got the cum-slut son and his cock-hungry bitch-father."

I was so humiliated, my cock stood up like an iron bar, throbbing in an erection so hard it hurt.

At that moment Sorrento switched horses in mid-stream, standing between my legs, he lifted my knees, rolling me up until my asshole was at his cock-level, then jammed his big pecker in me. At the pain-jolt of his first entry, I grunted and clenched my eyes shut, but again he stretched open my asshole, thrilled me with that little jolt over the narrow part, then spread me wide over the base. 

Couldn't stop myself: "Yeah . . . oh, yeah!"

As always, when he started stroking, the pain faded away, and I got that terrible, wonderful pleasure that kept me coming back for more. Breathing harder, I opened my eyes and turned to Brian. "Oh, yeah . . . so good . . . love this . . . "

Brian looked at me with wonder. "Yeah, Dad. I know."

Sorrento gloated. "I should've known. Both you guys are real pigs for my big baby-maker. Isn't that right, Sarge?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me what you want, slut. Tell me what you want me to do to you."

The bastard. Wants to humiliate me in front of Brian. I'll show him: "Hey, Brian, what should I tell him?"

"Tell him to make that big cock ream your ass out." He paused. "Beg him for it, Dad. I want to hear you beg."

God! "That's it, Captain, make that big cock of yours ream my ass out! Fuck me! Use me! Make me your bitch! I want it! Fuck me!!"

And he did. With high-speed, full-length strokes, he had me gasping and panting, heading for one of those fantastic orgasms, but suddenly something new poured napalm onto the fire -- Brian knelt over me, in front of Sorrento's plunging hips, and his mouth slurped my cock

The only nudge I needed to go over the falls. My balls went off like hand grenades, my toes curled, and my asshole clenched around Sorrento's dong like a handcuff.

The glorious, delicious thrill of my orgasm was even hotter as I pulsed my boiling jizz into the hot, wet mouth of my boy! The sexual electricity got back to Sorrento, too, because he let out a loud groan and the warm swelling inside let me know his white, ropy seed was pumping into my guts. Then he fell back.

Sorrento was the first to get up. "You've got a hot boy, Sarge. We're going to have some good times." He stepped over my face and straddled me for a moment. Above me, his legs were two great tree trunks, and at the top hung his huge scrotum and that gigantic cock.

Magnificent! Giants! The master's cock and balls!

Perspective! It's just from this perspective! They're normal-size. He's just a runt!

No! They are giants! I rose up to kiss his scrotum, nibbling and licking at it. In worship. 

"Like my cock, do you, slut?"

I licked and sucked at his softened cock. I love it. Do anything for it. "Yeah. Love it."

"You and your boy going to be my cum-sluts whenever I want you?"

Damn, how humiliating! My son's right here! "Yeah." I kissed his cock again. "Whenever you want me." 

Since the moment was cooling down, I sat up. "Did Nilen catch you in the restroom last night?"

"Naw. I out-waited him. It's an arrestable offense if he tries to open the door and force himself into a restroom stall. There was nothing he could do. Even if he holds the cell-phone above the door and takes a picture, it's illegal and would not be evidence. I just sat there until he finally left."

Brian was amazed. "Coach, that was you in there . . . with Dad?"

I answered. "Yeah. His cum was dribbling down my face. Just like mine is dribbling down yours."

Brian smiled and wiped off some from his chin. Looking at me, he licked it from his fingers.

I smiled and crawled to my feet. Fulfilled. Yeah, filled full. I sat in the chair, pulling on my uniform. Sorrento's jizz drooled out of my ass, smearing the seat of the chair. I'm not cleaning it up. His problem. I stood up to pull up my pants. "Well, I see high school is nothing like it was in my day. I've got work to do, though, so Coach, if you'll give me the papers I'm supposed to sign, I'll be on my way."

Back at HQ I was so horny, I hit the latrine two or three times to lock myself in a stall and jack off. Brian and Sorrento! The little bastard got my son! But it was the horniest sight I ever saw. I licked my lips. Brian's asshole followed that big cock in and out like a soft rubber fitting, bouncing around his cock-waist with every stroke, stretching tight and . . .

My asshole clenched, and I sighed. I know how that feels! 

And Sorrento's cock in both of us canceled out all apologies, explanations, and "people's inner selves." Brian and I are on a new page.

But for as hot as I was inside, on the surface I was in a cold sweat. Nilen was a ticking time-bomb, and we both knew he had me by the short hairs. I actually thought about ways to kill him. Get serious, idiot!

I spotted Nilen's car pulling into the parking lot, and a thought hit me, a thin, feeble spaghetti-string of hope.

I called PFC Peckrin into my office. "Got an assignment for you, Peckrin, something you'll like. Intelligence Gathering Training Exercise." He brightened up. "This is a covert practice, and your grade will depend on avoiding detection."

"Yeah, Sarge, let's do it!"

"One of my Training Assistants will act as your target individual. You will observe this individual and report his every movement 24 hours a day for two days--"

"Twenty-four hours a day? When will I sleep?"

"Think about it, Peckrin. As an intelligence operative, you have to adapt. When the subject sleeps, you can sleep." He still had that blank look. "You sleep in your car, sleep in an airport waiting room, in a hotel lobby, anywhere. You eat when he eats -- wherever you can."

Peckrin's grin wasn't quite so wide.

"You still up for it?"

"Yeah, Sarge, I wanna do it!"

"Okay, come here." Nilen was approaching the building. I pointed him out to Peckrin. "See that man? He's your target. He's in on the training, and he knows he's going to be tailed by somebody -- so he may try to evade you. You have to stick with him." I touched Peckrin on the shoulder. "But under no circumstances are you to allow yourself to be detected. If you are, the training is over, and your score is a No." 

"When do I begin, Sarge?"

"Right now. Go!"

I drove home that night in one hell of a mental state. Here I am up to my neck in alligators, and my wife wants me to meet the crocodile she's fucking!

At home I went straight to the bar. Poured myself another one. At this rate I'm going to get a gold watch from Jim Beam. Brian walked in. "Hi, Dad."

I smiled. "Hi, son." We looked at each other for a moment. "I see some father & son activities ahead." My voice was low.

"Yeah. I'd like that."

Brian, your mother is going to be here soon, and she's bringing with her a . . . friend. I don't quite know how to say this . . . somebody we may be seeing more of as time goes by.

His face was very serious. "I know. I know all about it."

"All about it?"

"I never met him, but..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Mom's been. . . seeing him for a couple of months. I hear her on the phone to him."

I took another drink. "Your mother is going through a stage right now. If we can just live through this, things will get back to normal." I took a swig from my glass. They'll be here any minute. Got to get him out of here! "And now, Brian, if you don't mind, I'd rather be alone for a while."

Brian walked out of the room.

About a half-hour later the front door opened, and Ulrike walked in. Followed by Sorrento!

A feather could have knocked me off my barstool. I'm hallucinating! No, I'm not that drunk! Sorrento's first name is Jeff?

When he saw me, he, too, did a double-take. "Well, I'll be damned!"

Ulrike sounded like a drill sergeant. "Arny, this is Jeff. Jeff, this is Arny."

Sorrento grinned like a little shark. "So you're a sergeant in the Army?"

"Yeah."

"Your wife likes my cock."

Ulrike choked. "Jeff, don't--"

--"Think you might like my cock, too, Sergeant?" My heart was pounding and sweat trickled down my forehead. Sorrento pulled down his zipper. "What do you say, Sarge?"

I swallowed, my mouth as dry as sandpaper.

He pulled out his cock, hard and throbbing, and my wife shrieked. "Jeff! What are you doing?? My son is home!"

Still he stared at me. "What do you think, Sarge? You want this big cock in your ass?"

He had me. The sight of his glowing manhood had my asshole buzzing, and the craving was growing in me like a fever. Still speechless, I unbuckled my belt and dropped my pants.

"Arny! Arny, what in the hell are you doing??" Her eyes were wide as saucers.

Sorrento's voice was like a distant foghorn. "On your hands and knees, bitch. I feel like a piece of ass."

Ulrike looked at him. "Jeff, please don't talk to me that way--" but her mouth snapped shut when she saw me drop to the floor, aiming my ass back at Sorrento and spreading my legs. "Arny . . . God!"




In the Man-Sex Minefield



Sorrento knelt behind my legs, humping his big Johnson up and down my ass-crack, searching, searching. I reached back and grabbed the shaft, guiding him to the puckered target. It stung going in, but I was getting accustomed to him. 

Ulrike shrieked, "Oh, God, Brian, leave the room!" I looked up to see my son walking through the door, staring down at us. 

Sorrento impaled me on his hard meat, gripped my hips, and started lunging. "Ulrike, your husband loves my big cock up his ass," he croaked in a husky voice. I hung my head. It's all over. 

This is the end of everything. She'll go for a divorce. Take Brian away. Sooner or later, the Army will find out about this. My head hung in shame, and I damned the hot pleasure building up in my ass. He was right. I couldn't deny it. I loved his big cock fucking me. God in heaven, how I wish I had no sex drive! Wish my balls had been shot off in Vietnam!

Banging up against my pelvis with every heavy stroke, Sorrento went on: "-- and I give it to him any time I'm not already busy with his son. You, boy. Strip down!"

I looked up. Ulrike's face was a mask of horror as Brian pulled off his clothes. When he was naked, Sorrento growled, "Now suck your old man's cock!"

Heaven! The master cock was stretching my ass, and my cock throbbed in my son's seething mouth! God, I'm glad I'm a man! 

But then Ulrike blew my mind. Staring at us and inhaling the aroma of man-sex -- the room was full of male pheromones -- she pulled open her blouse and bared her tits. The bitch wasn't wearing a bra. Then she pulled down her shorts. Again, no underwear. She shaved! Sorrento made her go bare-pussy! I bit my lip. How long has she been like that? And she was hot. Her cunt lips were swollen and visibly wet.

I couldn't stay mad. My body was on fire, fuck-pleasure cremating me from both sides of my crotch.

Ulrike moved over to Sorrento, who started sucking on her tits while he fucked me. Brian continued sucking my cock, but things got complicated after that. 

To cut a long story short, by the time the night was over, Ulrike had taken us both at once -- Sorrento sunk into her pussy and my cock up her ass -- while she gave Brian a blowjob, and we got into endless combinations of the three of us and every possible hole. By the dawn's early light, I had cummed so many times, my balls ached, and my belly was so full of sperm, I skipped breakfast that morning.

I showered, shaved, and got on my uniform while Sorrento laid Ulrike one more time. Then he drove home to dress for the duty day, and I drove to battalion headquarters, leaving Brian at home doing his mother doggy-style. 

At my desk in battalion headquarters that morning, with a cup of coffee in my hand, I sat trying to figure out when and how I had blundered into a parallel universe. The world was upside-down. I'm on a roller-coaster roaring down the track, and there's that brick wall ahead with Nilen's face on it.

While I was wishing the coffee was Scotch -- or cyanide -- PFC Peckrin walked into my office wearing a sweatshirt and cutoff jeans. "Wow, Sarge, that was some exercise! He really took me through some realistic scenarios."

There was my last hope. Now Nilen's going to cut off my balls. I sipped the coffee. Peckrin's probably got a list of churches he went to. "Okay, tell me about them."

"Well, first he went to a MacDonald's, where he had a double--"

--"What place did he go to next?"

"Then he went to the Holiness Evangelical Church--

Oh, shit! --"And where next?"

"Well, he went back to his office in battalion headquarters, and he was there for about--"

--"Peckrin, tell me just about the most unusual places you followed him to!"

"Well, he went to the Loving You Bookstore."

I caught my breath. No! It can't be true! 

When I finally dismissed Peckrin and told him to take the rest of the day off, I snatched up the phone and dialed Captain Sorrento. Now I do feel drunk. 

"Captain, this is Dirius . . . Yes, sir . . . He just got back, and listen to this: Nilen has dealt us a Royal Flush! . . . That's right, sir . . . cruising adult bookstores hoping to spot people from the military . . . Yes, sir, probably gets a lot of names there -- poor fools on a transfers or on a pass . . . morons dumb enough to wear the uniform into such a place . . . Yes, sir, I've got a plan: here's how we cash in our chips..."

The following day I shadowed Nilen, always careful he didn't spot me. He went to all the places Peckrin told me about, and when he finally parked at the adult bookstore, I called Sorrento on the cell phone. 

In the store, Nilen walked up and down the aisles, and when he spotted a sailor reading one of the magazines, he looked at the man's nametag and wrote something in his notebook. Hell, it's not even just the Army, the bastard is after anybody in the military!

When the man put down the magazine, Nilen picked it up and wrote down the title. He turned the pages, observing the content. Reading more and more intently. For several minutes.

Then he went through the curtain into the darkened video-booth area. As he walked down the hall, one of the doors opened, and Peckrin walked out. Dressed in his Class A uniform. 

With a devilish smile of conquest, Nilen wrote feverishly in his notebook as Peckrin passed by. Didn't say a word to him. Probably didn't recognize him from battalion headquarters. Then Nilen went into the booth, writing down the video choices there, looking at the video still playing on the screen. 

Sorrento and I opened the door of the booth next to it, and inside was a skinny kid jacking off to a gay video. He looked up startled. I took a deep breath, spreading my chest wide, and folded my arms, filling the doorway like a tree. "Get outa here. We want this one," I growled in a bass voice and tossed him a $5 bill. When I stepped out of the door, the kid scurried away.

Inside, we peeked through the glory hole: Peckrin had started a video before he left, so it had a while to run, and Nilen sat watching it, writing down details. It was a hot movie, and I was praying, praying, praying...

Yes!! Nilen pulled open his zipper and stroked himself to the steamy action on the screen! Now the big gamble! Please, please, please!!

I stuck my finger through the glory hole, moved it back and forth, and hissed in a loud whisper, "Let me suck that big cock! Stick it through to me!" I bit my lip. My whole world pivots on this.

Nothing. Nilen didn't move. Did he hear me? Can't let him hear my real voice. I hissed louder. "C'mere, soldier boy, lemme suck that big cock!" My heart was pounding.

Slowly, hesitating, Nilen got up from the seat and moved to the glory hole. YES!! He stuck his skinny prong through it, and -- the things I have to do for an Army career -- I started sucking it. No wonder he's such a weirdo. Dick no thicker than a garden hose.

While I nuzzled on his cockhead, pulling him through the hole as much as I could, Sorrento moved beside me. He carefully wrote "LOVE TO SUCK COCK!" on the top of Nilen's cockshart with a brush dipped in a henna solution we got from a specialty store -- made a permanent stain on human skin. He retraced the words two or three times, each time darkening the letters.

The he stood back and took a flash picture.

Nilen saw the flash through the glory hole and instantly yanked back his cock. Sorrento and I hurried out the door and waited. When Nilen opened the door to his booth and leaped out in a panic, he was blinded by another flash. Perfect! 

The picture would show him -- in uniform -- leaving a video booth (the screen behind him showing a video of a naked man fucking another man), and beside Nilen in the hallway was a big man shaped like a gorilla wearing a black mask, a "QUEER AMERICA" T-shirt, and stroking his hard cock, which was jutting out of his pants.

Sorrento and I then ran out the back door of the building to avoid the bookstore's bouncers (who would come running to see who was photographing the clients). We made it. I tossed the Queer America T-shirt into a garbage can as I ran by, I threw away the mask, and once I zipped myself up (hard to do while running), we were just a couple of guys, one bare-chested -- but it was a hot day -- walking calmly into the parking lot.

The next day, a courier delivered a package to SSG Nilen. In it were the pictures blown up to 8½ x 11 glossies. And a note:

Another man's sex-life is none of your goddamned business. Stop taking down names, or these pictures go to your CO, the Department of the Army, the pastor of your church, and National Inquirer Magazine.

Think about it: in the court-martial the prosecuting officer will have you haul out your cock -- a sort of written confession to be read into the court record.

A friend.

Amazing how life settled down after that. 

My family's new "arrangement" turned out to be more "full-filling" than I could have dreamed. At work I started working a little more closely with Peckrin (he did have a big one). 

Had to stop drinking Coke. Got a hardon every time.

And man-sex in the Army is still a fucking minefield!

~~~



In the Mango Orchard



Author's note: This story is in English but there are very few Hindi words in it. If you feel that comes in the way of reading, please stop now and find another story. 

I hope you will enjoy this story. Please don't forget to vote and leave feedback after you finish it. Happy reading. :)

* * * * *

It was the summer of '99 that we noticed each other. Bhaiyya had built up his body by going to the gym with his college friends and he looked nice and muscular, not the skinny boy I knew from my childhood. His face had also hardened a bit due to the protein diet he was on and the little chubbiness that remains with all of us from childhood finally left his face. Now it was all sharp and handsome.

He also started noticing me I think. When I wore my tight yellow salwar kameez once, I could see his eyes on me, looking all over my body. He thought I couldn't see him but I saw from the corner of his eyes the way he looked at me and how his hand moved to his chest, to caress himself. I wondered if he was thinking he could touch my breasts.

Little incidents like that built up until I knew I had his attention on me. Lots of times I could feel him following me with his eyes when he thought no one was looking. He also started brushing against me when passing in the hallways or going up and down the steps in our large family house. As the summer passed, the heat in his eyes and behaviour also built up until I wondered if he would do anything about it. 

Every night as I lay in my bed and touched myself naughtily, I pictured bhaiyya coming up to me and touching me. Really touching, not the little brushes he had given me till then, even though that one time he had actually taken hold of my ass cheek briefly before letting go.

Then the brushings kept getting more and more. He couldn't pass me without getting his body in contact with mine. Then slowly, his hands started wandering. Once when taking down the big pot in the kitchen, I had climbed up onto the little parapet and he held me around my waist to steady me. The pot was taking a long time coming loose from all the other things stored on the upper storage area, and I could feel his hands slowly moving on me. He first cupped my ass in both his hands and squeezed gently, then started moving towards the front. I took a longer time with my task as I wanted him to touch me more. He did, by reaching around to the front and putting his hand directly on my mound through my clothes. Behind me, he buried his face in my round ass. 

If at that moment, auntie had not shouted for the pot, I don't know how else he would have touched me.

After that moment, we both knew what was going on. I knew bhaiyya was interested in me in that way and he knew that if he touched me, I wouldn't tell anyone. His touching kept getting bolder and bolder. He started grabbing my front while passing, or giving a light squeeze to my boob. Each time he gave me a small secret smile, like only we knew what was happening.

I liked what was happening, but I wanted more. I wanted to explore with bhaiyya. I was not so naïve about sex but there was so much I didn't know. I had seen naked cocks but I wanted to touch one, and really see it. I wanted to know how I would feel when he really touched me, not these little grabs and touches while passing. I wanted bhaiyya to do something and take us somewhere so that we could give in to our passion.

The day came when I was wandering around in the mango orchard behind our house. I was picking some ripe mangoes for the chutney that we would make the next day and so was in the trees, picking the ripe fruit and putting it in a basket. I was a very good climber, as I had climbed these very trees so many times from the time I was a little girl. I thought nothing of leaving my dupatta down on the ground and clambering through the branches in search of the fruit. 

After a while, I became aware of bhaiyya watching me. I met his direct gaze through the cover of the mango leaves and knew he had been there for a while. I had been stretching and moving from branch to branch in my pursuit for the mangoes and knew I had given him good glimpses of every part of my body in my salwar kameez without the covering of my dupatta. 

As he met my eyes, he raised one hand and motioned for me to come down from the tree.

I hurriedly slithered down and bent to pick up my dupatta. He was right behind me when I straightened up. He took my hand and started pulling me along behind him.

"Bhaiyya, where are you taking me?" I asked.

I was not alarmed, I only wanted to talk to him because he seemed a little tense.

"Shh. Just follow me," he said, not stopping or turning back.

I meekly followed him because I knew wherever he was taking me meant that we would be alone and he would finally touch me like I wanted.

He took me to the caretaker's little shack and we went inside. Bhaiyya turned and shut the door as soon as we were inside. He searched for a key to lock it but when he didn't find it, he just moved a chair under the door handle to keep someone from opening it. Then he turned to me and came towards me.

He took me in his arms and just hugged me for a minute. A strong hug, like when we were children, before my breasts had popped out and come between us. It felt good as my breasts pressed against his hard chest.

"Oof, bhaiyya, your chest is too hard," I muttered.

He laughed and asked, "Does it press you too much?"

I sighed against his chest, not letting go of him and replied, "No, it feels nice."

He responded by tightening his arms across my back, pressing my poor boobs even more into his rock hard chest and driving the air out of me.

I played with him, trying to snuggle up closer and pressing into him more. 

Then his hands started moving on my back, wandering up and down, finding the clasp of my bra and snapping it against my back. He moved them lower, covering the top of my ass and then put both hands on my ass cheeks and pulled me against his loins. 

"Babli, you have grown up to be so beautiful," he said against my hair.

I smiled. I loved the compliment and I knew I was exciting him by my beauty and also by my sexy ways. My full boobs had kept him interested for weeks now and I knew he had wanted to cup my round ass so many times since he had felt its softness by burying his face in it. 

We finally moved away when he guided me away from him and made me move towards a table against a wall. There was no bed in this shack, just a table with a pot of water on it and a couple of chairs. It was clean enough, but the atmosphere was of a lazy summer afternoon under the shade, with only enough light coming in through the dusty window panes to make us see each other as lazy shadowy shapes. No one had thought to clean the windows as it was only a place the caretaker used occasionally at night if he felt like resting.

As bhaiyya led me to the table in the corner, he moved the pot from it and settled it on the ground. Then he took my hand and told me to sit on the table. I faced him and climbed back on the table, settled my ass on the edge and sliding back. Bhaiyya took my knees in his hands and spread them a little, coming to stand between my legs. Then he started kissing me.

His mouth was warm and soft, not slobbery or hard. His lips came apart and he started taking my lips into his mouth and sucking on them. Little by little, as I got bolder he stuck his tongue between my lips and opened them, making his tongue go into mine and touching my tongue with his. It was beyond anything I had ever imagined. His hands were on my thighs, and I was clutching his biceps, both of us just concentrating on our first time of kissing each other. It was so erotic that I could feel myself getting wet down there and suddenly felt shy. I tried to wriggle away from him.

Bhaiyya stopped what he was doing and asked me, "What happened?"

I looked down and just kept quiet.

"You are shy?" he guessed.

I nodded.

"But you like this?" he asked.

I nodded again, keeping my eyes down.

"Then don't worry, just do what I tell you to do, okay? You will be shy the first time or even the first few times, but after that it will be okay," he reassured me.

I nodded and he took my chin in his hands and raised it, his mouth coming back to kiss me like we were. When he was sure I was kissing him back, he removed his hand and placed it on my waist. He started squeezing my waist and with his other hand, my thigh. I also started clutching his biceps as the emotions overtook me. We were kissing so intimately now, and his hands started moving to different parts of my body, wandering to my stomach and finally to my boobs. He started squeezing and pinching them hard. I moaned against his open mouth, trying to move away from his greedy hands. He softened then, massaging my boobs slowly and not pinching them anymore. I relaxed.

He suddenly put his hand under my kameez and started moving it up towards my breasts. He got stuck because it was too tight. 

He stopped kissing me and said, "Move a little, Babli, so I can get my hand around your boobs."

I squirmed a little and moved my kameez a little and his hand pushed through to my bra clad boobs. He started kissing me again and his hand moved up over the cup and started pulling my boob out above the bra. It was really tight in there and he was struggling to do it.

"Bhaiyya, you will tear my kameez or my bra," I said in desperation, breaking away from his hot mouth. 

He stopped his hand from what it was doing and extracted it. "Ok, then," he said as he moved back, pulling me with him off the table. I stumbled a little as I was not expecting it. He caught me in his arms and then moved back again. Bending, he took hold of my kameez and started to move it over my head. I instinctively raised my hands, as children do when their clothes are being changed. In an instant, before I knew what was happening, my kameez was balled in his hands and he was looking for a place to put it. Finally he just tossed it over his shoulder.

I felt naked in front of him, standing in only my bra and salwar so I moved my hands up to shield my boobs. 

He looked and my action and a little frown appeared on his face. "No need to get shy, Babli, I told you," he said.

I bowed my head and just stood there in the same position.

He came forward a step and took me by my upper arms. He guided me back to the table and pushed me back against it. I wriggled into to my previous sitting position and loosely opened my legs myself this time so he could step in between them. He started kissing me again, his hot wet mouth demanding and firm on mine.

Slowly his hands removed mine from across my chest and his big ones replaced them. He took one boob in each hand, massaging like he had been doing before. Then he started removing my boobs from the bra cups again. This time they came out as there was no tight kameez to stop them. He started pulling on my nipples and pressing my boobs while kissing me.

I liked the sensations too much and I kept squirming as his hands touched my breasts. They almost felt engorged and a lot more heavier than before, hanging out from my bra. My nipples were like little hot buttons and so hard. When he pulled on them or rolled them between his fingers, I felt a current from there to between my legs each time. I was pushing my breasts into his hands and moaning into his hot mouth as the minutes wore on and he unmercifully kept up the assault. 

Finally, my boobs started feeling tender and started to hurt. I put my hands on his biceps and started pushing him back. Bhaiyya resisted for a minute, trying to keep up his squeezing and massaging on my breasts, while still taking over my mouth with hot wet kisses. But I pushed against him and started moving my head from side to side so that he had trouble kissing me. His open mouth landed on my lips and on my cheeks and my jaw as I struggled.

"Bhaiyya please, it hurts," I said.

He didn't stop kissing me or touching my breasts.

"What hurts?" he asked against my neck.

"Your hands," I replied in a breathless voice.

He stopped caressing my breasts then and moved back. He started to unbutton his shirt and when it fell open, I could see his magnificent chest. It was hard and solid with just a little hair on it. My hands itched to touch him but I was shy. He continued opening the button on his jeans and slid the zipper down. I wondered if I would finally get to see and touch a cock, but he didn't take it out. I could see it bulge in his briefs as he separated the parts on his jeans and moved them partway down his thighs. Then he moved back and took hold of me around my waist. 

"It will hurt a little bit, Baby," he said, calling me by my childhood name given to me as the youngest member of the large joint family. "But it feels so good also, doesn't it?"

"Yes it feels good, bhaiyya," I answered. It did.

"To me too, Baby. It feels so good. See how you have affected me," he said, and taking my hand in his, placed it on the lump in his briefs. 

I didn't know what to do. I just held my hand in the same way he had put it there.

"Press a little," he instructed, "but not too much. Gently."

I cupped his bulge and pressed my hand against him tentatively. It felt hot and hard and soft. His hand covered mine then and he pressed my hand against himself more, his hips coming in towards me. My hand was trapped between his hand and his briefs, cupping his member. He kept pressing against my hand, moving it a little, just brushing against him, while still pressing towards me. 

"See what you do to me?" he asked.

I nodded.

He let go of my hand. "Then don't ask me to stop when I want to do the same to you, Baby. Let me touch your ripe boobs and squeeze your stomach and thighs and touch you between your legs also. I have been dying to do this for so many days," he said.

I nodded again. After that impassioned plea, I would let him do anything he wanted however much it hurt me. What was a little bruising and tenderness on my boobs when there was so much pleasure to be had? 

Bhaiyya this time did not get back to kissing me. He made me lean away from him with my hands supporting me on the table behind me and reached around to open my bra from behind. Freed from their last confines, my boobs were exposed, pointing straight up. He looked into my eyes and said, "Let me lick and kiss your tender boobs. My suckles will act like a balm on your soreness. My poor, Baby. Maybe I am being too hard and rough with you."

With that he bent his dark head to my boobs open to him like an offering and started licking and kissing them. My hand automatically went into his rich dark hair and started clenching and unclenching handfuls as he licked, nibbled and sucked on me. He sucked on my boobs and my nipples thoroughly, taking hungry mouthfuls into his mouth and letting it out, then taking my nipple between his teeth as the last of it slipped out. Pulling on the nipple with his teeth, he bit gently, then moved closer and suckled on my breast like a small baby drinking milk. All the while, his hands roamed my stomach and my other breast, squeezing and pinching me. 

The tenderness in my breasts rose to a gentle pain at this assault, but I didn't say anything, just biting my lips between my teeth and letting out small moans when it hurt a little too much. It was not like I was not enjoying it. I loved him to suck on my nipples. When he did that, I felt so aroused between my legs. I was getting so wet down there that I thought I would embarrass myself in a few minutes if he kept going.

Bhaiyya kept this up until I felt I couldn't take it anymore. Finally he pulled me back to a sitting position and started kissing me again hungrily. His hand was scrabbling at the tie of my salwar and I felt him get impatient as he couldn't find the way to open it. He stopped and looked down, concentrating on opening the cord. It had become entangled and he bent down to see what the problem was. 

After a while, in his impatience, he shoved his hand between my legs, touching me directly on my pussy through my salwar and panties. I gasped, taken aback at this boldness and tried to move back. His other hand came around my back, holding me in place as he proceeded to paw at my pussy with his fingers. It felt really good after the surprise, but I was thinking of my salwar too. 

"Bhaiyya, stop," I pleaded with him. "My salwar will get wet."

"So what? It is already wet," he replied, his voice hot and heavy with desire. His changed voice sent a shiver through me; I had never heard him talk in that voice.

"Please, I can't go home like that," I pleaded once more.

He moved away a little, taking my mouth in a kiss and saying against my open mouth, "You untie the cord of the salwar then. I have to touch you in there."

My fingers fumbled with the cord and finally it fell open. His hands grasped mine and pushed them out of the way when he realized I had it open. He immediately plunged his hand inside and brushed my mound. My pussy was always shaven or trimmed. This time it was freshly shaven and he started caressing me.

"Baby, you have no hair down there?" he asked, still caressing.

"No, bhaiyya. I shave," I informed him. 

He smiled against my mouth and said, "It feels good. So smooth."

He pushed his hand deeper but my panties came in his way as he tried to touch my naked pussy. He didn't stop at the problem, just lifted me up with one hand around my waist and started pulling the salwar and panties down over my bottom and over my thighs. When he put me down, my bald pussy was open to the air and with my legs spread out to accommodate bhaiyya between them, it was gaping open. Bhaiyya immediately put his fingers down there and slid them in between my pussy lips. I was so slick down there with my overflowing juices that I felt that there would be puddles by the time I got up from that table.

Bhaiyya groaned as he fit his fingers between my slippery lips and started moving them up and down, wetting them thoroughly and spreading my wetness around. His breathing was heavy and he had stopped kissing me, his attention solely on what he was doing with my pussy. I was also breathing heavily and gasping by the sensations of his hands down there. 

"Baby, you are so wet," he said. "Sopping, dripping wet. You want this so much."

He moved his fingers to the top of my slit, trying to find my sensitive spot. He took hold of the flesh there between his thumb and fingers and rolled.

I almost screamed and bucked up into the air. I brought my hand to clutch at his wrist to stop him, but he persisted, rolling my fleshy hard clit with his thumb and fingers and just pressing on it. We struggled like that... me trying to push his hand away and he holding it there and doing what he was doing. His strength was no match for my feeble attempts anyway, and he got his way.

"Let me get you to a shattering orgasm, Baby," he said to me. "I want to see you bucking and trembling and shouting."

I was close to doing just that as the torture on my sensitive clit continued. Whenever I had touched myself down there, I had only fingered my clit, sometimes pressing a bit against my finger, but what bhaiyya was doing was so new. I had never taken it in my fingers like that and rolled it and squeezed it. 

Bhaiyya use his other hand to cup my boob and pinch at my nipples. He gave the same treatment to my nipple that his other hand was giving to my clit.

"Move your hand, Baby. I want to suck your other breast," he commanded. 

By this time I was as tense as a drawn bow and it was impossible for my pleasure fuddled brain to offer any more fight. I did as he said and his dark head descended on my other boob, biting and suckling on my other nipple. The simultaneous pleasure pain built up in all my three sensitive points as I finally came, twisting and groaning and pleading with him to stop. My hips lifted off the table like he wanted me to and I bucked against his hand, my lips between my teeth in an effort not to shout out as my shattering orgasm filled me from the inside out. I felt like every nerve in my body was alive, breaking me into a thousand pieces and my blood flowing hotly and sluggishly to pool in the bottom of my stomach in the aftermath to the most wonderful orgasm I had had in my life.




In the Mango Orchard



When I came to my senses, I found bhaiyya looking at me with a half-smile on his face. 

I suddenly felt shy, spread so nakedly and languorously in front of him shamelessly. I struggled to cover myself but didn't find anything. 

Bhaiyya took my grasping hands in his and shook his head. "No need to feel shy, Baby," he said kindly as he guided my hands to his briefs.

His cock was peeking out from the top of his white underwear.

"Take it out," bhaiyya commanded.

I tried to obey but my shyness still had a hold on me.

He took my hands in his and pulling at the waistband of his briefs, put them inside. I could feel his hot naked cock against my hand. I was surprised by the feel of it. I didn't think it would be so hot, and so hard. The few cocks I had seen when I had got glimpses here and there of babies and older family members were either limp or in a semi-hard position... I hadn't known that it could become so hard, like a stick of sugarcane in my hand, only softer. This soft hard nature of the male organ fascinated me and I started exploring, my shyness forgotten in the curiosity that took over.

I slowly moved the elastic band of his briefs lower so his cock was freed. It came out from its confines and stood proud and erect. This was another surprise. In all my earlier glimpses of cocks they had been pointing down, not up like this.

"Bhaiyya?" I said, surprised.

"What? Do you like it?" he asked.

"How is it standing up like that?"

He started chuckling, amused at my naiveté. "When the males get ready to fuck, their member stands up in preparation," he explained. 

My eyes couldn't leave the sight I had so desperately wanted to see in the past few weeks. I kept staring at him and he finally asked me to stop staring and touch him. I tentatively moved a hand forward and stroked the head. It suddenly twitched and I withdrew my hand quickly.

Bhaiyya chuckled again. "It likes you," he said. "See how it is standing to attention and even responding to your every touch?"

I giggled and moved my hand to it again. This time when Bhaiyya thrust his hips forward a little to scare me, I was prepared and didn't draw back from his teasing. I started touching the head of bhaiyya's cock with two fingers, running them over the head and the little slit on the top. A few beads escaped and smeared my fingers.

"You get wet too?" I asked him.

He laughed. "Yes, but not like the Ganga you had in your pussy," he replied. "Mine is just a little puddle compared to your flowing rivers."

"It's not my fault girls have so much juice coming out and boys don't," I replied in my defence.

"No, I like your rivers," he replied. "It makes my hand slide so nicely when I touch it between your pussy lips."

Saying that, he moved my thighs open again, which had closed a little when I had reached orgasm and afterwards when I was concentrating on his cock. He opened them back again so my pussy was again gaping and touched me between my pussy lips, running his fingers up and down the length to demonstrate his remark. With two fingers between the lips, the pushed them open widely too, giving my pink pussy its first view of a cock right in front of it. With his other hand, he started massaging me there lightly, his fingers still holding my pussy lips open.

"Baby, don't just touch my cock lightly like that. Grip in it your hand and massage it like I am doing to your pussy," he instructed.

I obeyed him. Bhaiyya's velvet hard cock felt nice when I moved my hand down to the shaft and took him in my fist. I moved my hand up and down, loosely circling him with my hand, just to feel it slide on my palm. It felt so nice and different from anything I had ever touched. 

His fingers had started idling a bit when I started touching his cock like that. I didn't mind though, I wanted him to get the same good feelings he had given me. I tried to reach down to his balls with my other hand but both our hands between us was an awkward position.

Bhaiyya understood and moved his hands away from my pussy, resting them on my breasts. They were wet from my pussy juices and he started rubbing these on my breasts. "I can't get enough of your heavy breasts, Baby," he moaned. "They are so big and juicy. And now with your pussy juices on them, they will taste even better when I suck on them." He started kneading on my breasts again. 

As his hands were removed, I was free to reach both my hands between us and put them on his cock and balls. I cupped his balls in my palm and started kneading him too.

"Gently, Babli," he said. "Don't press too hard."

I adjusted the pressure a bit but kept kneading them, my other hand gripping and sliding over his hard cock. It was getting bigger and fatter as I played with it, and I was getting scared.

"Bhaiyya," I said, tentatively, trying to get his attention.

"Hmmm?" 

"Bhaiyya, what happens now?" I asked him. I was too shy to tell him I knew what happened and I was too scared to tell him that the big object in my fist I thought was too huge to fit in my little pussy.

Bhaiyya looked at me and I moved my gaze down. He slowly took his cock from my hands and started stroking it himself. Then he moved that little distance we had between each other and touched it to my pussy lips. I tried to close my thighs but couldn't as he was standing between them. Then I tried to move back but he had grabbed me from behind with an arm around me when he had moved forward and I found that I couldn't move away. 

"Don't worry, Baby," he said soothingly.

"Bhaiyya," I said, my voice small and tearful. "I am scared."

"Why?" he asked. "You really don't know what happens?"

I shook my head in a negative motion. "I know," I replied. "But... how?"

"What do you mean how?" he asked.

"How will it fit?" I whispered.

"Ah," he said, understanding my apprehension. "It looks big but don't worry, Baby, your pussy will stretch to take it in. It is made to be like that," he explained.

"Will it hurt?" I asked him.

"A little bit, but like you were good when I was squeezing your breasts, you must be a good girl with this too, Baby. It will feel good later, like your breasts felt when I was doing those things." He stopped and considered something. "Baby, have you put anything inside yet? Fingers, anything?"

I nodded.

"What?" he prompted.

"Fingers," I answered.

"Only that?" he asked again.

"Even a little bit of the back of my hairbrush," I whispered.

"Did it go in?" he asked.

"A little bit then it started hurting and I thought I was doing it wrong so I stopped," I replied.

"Achha. That's good," he said. "You have had something in there, however small. So it won't be new. Just be a little patient, it will hurt a little and then it will be okay."

I nodded and clutched his biceps, closing my eyes and planning for the pain.

Bhaiyya looked at me for a moment and said, "Not like that, my little Baby. Don't act like you are going to be killed. Open your eyes and stop being scared. If it hurts too much just grind your teeth together. You can even cry out if you want but don't stop me or push me away, okay?"

I nodded and opened my eyes to look at his cock at the entrance to my pussy. He was stroking me with it the whole time he was talking to me and it was covered almost half way down by my juices. The top part of bhaiyya's fist was also slick and wet.

"Ok, now be a good girl and lie back on your hands," he directed.

I did like he told me, my position again half lying on the table and my breasts pointed upwards. Bhaiyya took one of my legs under my knee, raised it and positioned my foot flat on the table. Then he pushed the knee in the air to the side so that my pussy was even more wide open than it was before. The second leg he told me to wrap around his waist, and I did.

"Relax, Baby," he said and started to rub his cock against my pussy more insistently. The whole head and shaft was in contact with my slit and got covered in my juices. Then suddenly he stopped the rubbing and positioned his cock to my entrance and pushed, all in one motion before I could know what was happening. 

I felt a sharp pain as I felt the head of his cock trying to enter into my small entrance. I instinctively tried to push myself back and to push him back from me. 

"Baby, stop it," he said angrily as he struggled to remain where he was.

"Bhaiyya, it hurts," I whined, grimacing with pain. 

He didn't stop pushing against me but started talking to me in a soothing voice. "Don't worry, Baby. Remember what I told you? I will hurt for some time then you will enjoy it. Now be a good girl and let me put in inside."

"No, bhaiyya, no. It's hurting a lot. Let us stop and do it later, please," I pleaded.

"Baby, you are making me angry. Stop acting like a little girl and shouting like this," he said sternly, pushing against me and trying to get his cock inside.

I kept pushing back and started sobbing. "Bhaiyya, it is painful. Please stop. I want to stop. Please."

"It's almost over, Baby" he said.

I could see his biceps bulging with the effort and he was pushing towards me so hard. His cock was still stuck a little way in my entrance and I felt pain and burning down there. It was a lot of pain, not just a little like he said. I tried to grind my teeth like he said but I couldn't stop sobbing and I started crying when the pain wouldn't go away.

"Baby, stop that," Bhaiyya snapped. "Stop acting like a small little girl."

I didn't want him to get angry with me so I tried to stop crying and bit down on the inside of my cheek. I could taste blood but I still didn't stop biting down. The pain was not easing and my whole body racked with sobs I couldn't hold back.

Bhaiyya finally grabbed my waist to steady me and put one hand behind, cupping my ass to pull me against him while pushing his hips into me. I had stopped struggling by then. I didn't want my brother getting angry with me and if that meant I had to take some pain for a while, that should be ok.

Finally I felt his cock move a little into me and bhaiyya grunted in pleasure and renewed his efforts. He tried moving a little out and then pushing it in again. This time, a sizable part of his cock went inside and the pain was unbearable. I cried out a little then snapped my mouth closed, worrying that he would again think I was acting like a little girl. But all of bhaiyya's concentration was on sliding his cock in and he didn't seem to notice.

Little by little, trying the same manoeuvre of sliding his cock in a little bit out and then pushing it in, bhaiyya finally managed to get all of his cock inside me. He stopped for a bit then and rested. He looked at my face, drenched in sweat and tears and stroked my hair back from my forehead. He took one breast in his hand and squeezed it. "It's almost over, Baby," he said tenderly. "It's all in. I am buried into your sweet pussy up to my balls. Now I can just fuck you and you will also enjoy it."

He just leaned his whole weight into my pussy then, before withdrawing his cock and little bit and pushing it in again. "See? That's good, no?" he asked.

"It's sore, bhaiyya, very tender," I moaned. "It still hurts."

"Come on, Baby. Be patient. Stop crying like this," he cajoled. "It will be better in a minute."

He started to thrust into me rhythmically. In and out he went, holding me around my bent leg to adjust him and his other hand massaging my breast, maybe trying to get my mind away from what he was doing to my pussy.

The worst of the pain was over I thought as I tried to relax. His big cock was already inside me and it was now just the soreness of my pussy being pulled to accommodate him. His cock rubbing against my tender hole and walls didn't help but at least the tearing pain had gone and I could at least know it wouldn't ever be like that again.

Eventually, as I saw his dark body moving over me, I could feel a little bit aroused. I concentrated on his hand that was playing with my breast rather than his cock in my pussy and I tried to focus on the rhythmic push and pull of my movements as he thrust into me. It reminded me of when we used to lie on our back across swings as kids and see the sky moving up and down and meeting the ground as we moved the swing with our feet. I wished we were outside so that I could compare this movement with the old swing one. But in my mind, it was like I was in the swing and bhaiyya was pulling me towards him and then moving me away, in the same gentle rhythm.

Then he started going faster and my analogy started breaking up. I opened my eyes to see his face. Sweat was running down his forehead and I could see a vein standing out and throbbing near his hairline. He was looking down to where his cock was plunging in and out of my pussy and I could hear him give a small grunt with every push he made inside me. I tried to abandon myself to the swing fantasy again and closed my eyes, but he was going too fast now. I could only think of the erratic and jerky fast movements of a saw cutting one of the limbs of a fallen mango tree in our orchard that past monsoon. 

Bhaiyya was grunting loudly now and thrusting so hard into me that I felt that the end would be close. I didn't know if I was expected to do anything or just lie there until he finished. The pain had risen a little by now, my sore pussy being rubbed by his hard and unmerciful cock. I tried to get up or move a little but bhaiyya's hand on my breast pushed me down.

"Just... a little... bit... more, Baby," he gasped between thrusts. 

He pinched my nipple and started thrusting even faster and harder. I felt like my entire insides were being pounded each time he came against my hips. Each time the noise as our bodies joined was a firm slap and my pelvis started hurting also from the way he was pounding into it. All of the various hurts and pains became one and separated into different ones, as I lay there, being rocked by my brother's fucking. 

Finally, he started groaning loudly and thrashed once more into me before pulling his cock out of me and pumping it furiously in his fist as I saw his cock jerk and let out huge sticky blobs that spattered my mound, my stomach and even my breasts. His cum was thick and white, coating me heavily in ropes, unlike my clear and slippery juices. His face was still contorted as he finished milking the last of his cock and rested a hand beside my body, holding himself up on unsteady legs.

In a minute, he opened his eyes and looked at me lying there, with his cum all over me. He took my hand and started moving it on my body to rub his warm cum into my skin. There was a tired smile on his face as he looked at me.

"That was fantastic, Baby," he grinned. 

He bent down to kiss me chastely on my forehead like a brother, and then moved his head down to kiss me on my lips like a lover. I opened my mouth to him and we shared a last kiss, my hand still rubbing my brother's cum into my body, and he lazily moving a hand down to cup my gaping pussy.

After a while of kissing like that, he moved away and I tried to get up.

"No, Baby, wait. Let me see your pussy," he said.

I was shy but couldn't stop him as he spread my legs and my pussy lips to inspect me. He ran his hand over my tender pussy gently and looked up at me. 

"There's a little blood," he said. 

I was startled.

"You said you had put a brush in there?" he asked.

"Yes, but I told you, it didn't go inside very much," I replied.

"Oh, Baby," he said as he gathered me up into his arms and took me to sit with him on his lap on a chair like I used to when I was smaller. "Your pussy was still intact then. I thought you had broken your cherry when you said you had put the brush in."

I just laid my head down on his shoulder and enjoyed the togetherness of being in my bhaiyya's arms, as I had dreamt for so many weeks. 

"It's ok. Next time it will not hurt so much," he murmured. He slid his hand between my legs again. "It will go in smoothly now that there is no barrier," he said as he slipped his middle finger inside me. 

I squirmed and tried to dislodge him. "It is still tender and hurts, bhaiyya," I moaned.

He wriggled his finger inside me and chuckled, sliding it in and out a couple of times before removing it. "Such a cry baby you are," he scolded. "Look at all these tears. Who cries like this, hmm?" he asked.

I smiled and settled into him. "Like you said, it won't hurt so much again, so I won't cry the next time," I told him.

And it didn't. The next time we fucked was the next day and it was better like he had promised. Over that summer, bhaiyya and I fucked every day, often more than once every day. The shack in the mango orchard was our hideout until bhaiyya started stealing into my room at night. We fucked all night in my bed, and in the mornings I woke up tired and sore in every part, only to repeat the same the next night as I saw my handsome and strong brother come into my room the next night under the cover of darkness.

After that summer, he had to go back to college in another city and I missed him, lying in my large bed alone, my pussy aching with wanting his hard cock in it. Over the years, we fucked when we got together until I got married. He came over to me on the morning of my wedding day and took my breast in his hand possessively. "I will share you, Baby, but remember that I am not giving you up," he said.

I sidled up to give him a hot kiss and murmured, "Why would I want my bhaiyya to give me up?" against his mouth. "I was first yours and I will always be available whenever you want me," I said, calming his fears.

He squeezed my breasts and my pussy possessively and went away.

Over the next few years, I kept my promise and we fucked as and when we got the opportunity, and then there came the time for his marriage. He was marrying a beautiful girl and I was jealous. He could see it.

The day of his wedding, he found me alone in my room and came up to me.

"Baby," he said. "Remember what you told me when you were getting married? The same way, you are not giving me up, just sharing. My cock still gets hard for you," he said, drawing my hand to his front, to feel the truth of his words. 

We each have two kids each now and we are still hot for each other and fuck each other when I go back to my childhood house or he comes over to mine when my husband is out for the day. We have the best relationship and I feel that every girl should have such a loving and sexy big bhai to fuck her for the first time and initiate her into the ways of sex.



In The Mausoleum



It was 2 AM. I didn’t have to work tonight, for a change, but as usual, I could not sleep --- the moon was full --- I never sleep when the moon is full.  Everyone in the apartment was in a sound sleep so I decided to take a drive. I wasn’t even sure where I’d go; I would just follow my instincts.

I quietly threw on a light summer string strap dress over my thong, not even bothering with any other undergarments, slid into my car and headed for the countryside. Shortly after the moon was fully overhead, I found myself on a desolate country road. I don’t recall seeing a house for quite some time. It didn’t bother me though --- I like it that way. I was on a part of the road where the trees arched their branches across the road interlacing their leafy fingers so as to block out all but patches of moonlight. I’ve always enjoyed places like that and even have a tendency to drive a bit slower so as to savor the experience.

This time, however, my car decided to give me all the time I’d need to enjoy the place. It just suddenly lost all power. The engine quit, the lights went out --- the battery seemingly dead. After turning the key a time or two with no response, I shrugged my shoulders, got out and began walking. I knew it was the middle of the night but I’ve never been afraid of the boogieman, so I didn’t give it a second thought. Not even bothering to put on my shoes, being barefoot 90% of the summer, I set out on a leisurely walk to --- anywhere --- wherever I happened to wind up.

Part way down the road, I noticed a slight change in the climate. A heavy cloud had covered the once bright full moon, plunging all around me into blackness. A wind with a distinct chill to it picked up enough to blow my hair back from my face. I didn’t mind. I love the wind. It seemed to caress my cheeks like the gentle touch of the backs of a man's fingers. I savored it.

Then the thunder and lightning started, accompanied by a light rain. Still I did not pick up my pace but I visually searched for a refuge from what threatened to be a rough storm. While I loved watching summer storms, I had sense enough not to get caught out in one.

The rain increased and had a bitter cold sting to it. Soon my light cotton dress became drenched, clinging to my wet body. My hair could hold no more water as the rain came now in torrents. Stubborn as I am I did realize that I simply had to get out of the rain soon or become sick. I quickened my pace, not sure if I was even still on the road. The rain obscured all objects around me. I could have sworn I had just passed a tombstone. I have never given in to panic, but I was becoming a bit anxious. This wasn’t leisurely fun anymore.

Soon, off to my left, I caught sight of an ever so dim flicker of light. I made my way toward it, not knowing nor caring if it was a safe refuge or not. My bare feet seemed to find every sharp edged rock on the gravel path I now trod. The coldness around me and the frigid rain made my feet ache. This was not such a good idea after all.

I was just beginning to think I would never reach safety before my feet fell off from the cold, when I reached a great iron gate. It was the entrance to a stone building that appeared to be a mausoleum. It was the source of the guiding light. Without a second thought, I tugged on the gate. It opened readily. As I said before, I was never afraid of the boogeyman, and the rain was increasingly uncomfortable. Of course, I went inside.

Once inside, it took a few moments for my vision to adjust to the light. The Mausoleum was lit by a single torch. There were the usual drawers in the stone walls and one huge stone casket in the center of the room. The name CALLOWAY chiseled on all. Looking around, I saw off to the far back corner a stone door, slightly ajar. I am by nature a very curious, spontaneous individual, knowing my curiosity usually gets me in trouble; I still went inside to check it out. It stood open just enough for me to squeeze through.

On the other side of the door was a great spiral of stone steps leading downward, torches spaced every few feet lighting the way. As I followed them down I heard a noise --- was that the door closing behind me? The average individual would have the desire to run back up the stairs, try to escape--- not me. I simply shrugged my shoulders and continued descending the stairs. Inwardly, I found it quite exciting --- maybe even a bit erotic. My heart raced as I tried to anticipate what might await me at the bottom.

The temperature grew noticeably warmer the further down the stairway I went. My chills were subsiding. The base of the stairwell opened into a huge cavernous room. It had a great hearth, fire a blaze with inviting warmth. In front of the hearth sat a large high backed chair fit for a Lord, upholstered in purple velvet. To the right stood a large coffin draped with the same purple velvet cloth. Beyond that was several wooden doors, all closed.

I found the room to have a sort of comfort and a very pleasant cinnamon odor, which permeated every inch of the air. An iron cauldron hung over the fire and on closer examination, I found that the liquid bubbling within was the source of the aroma. A ladle hung nearby and behind me by the chair stood a round pedestal like table with a very gothic pewter chalice placed in the exact center of it.

I still don’t know why, but the most natural thing to do for me was take the chalice and ladle some of the liquid into it, which, of course I did. Was a voice within my head instructing my every move? So it seemed. “Drink” I heard a soft bass whisper saying. No one was there. With a shrug of my shoulders, I did just that.

Immediately I felt a soothing warmth course through my entire body, extending to the very tips of my fingers and toes. The drink did indeed have a pleasantly sweet cinnamon taste but there was something else in it. A hint of something I could not quite place. I found myself draining the chalice, then running the tip of my tongue over the rim to get every last bit of the taste.

I began feeling strange. A sort of floating sensation came over me. I could no longer feel the stone floor beneath my bare feet. Colors and sounds became accentuated. I could hear a monotonous drip of water from a long unused fountain across the room. As I turned my head, my vision followed a step behind me in slow motion. I heard music, but from where I could not tell. It was in my head, it was all around me, a graveyard symphony, --- very gothic, --- perhaps a bit morbid. Then cam the voice again.

“The spirit of The Undertaker lives in the soul of all mankind. The eternal flame of life, which can not be extinguished the origins of which, can not be explained.”

The music grew louder. Languidness swept over me. I stared at the wooden doors. Then the center most door slowly creaked open. I felt a presence of great power was there with me. The doorway was filled with a misty smoke. In the midst of the smoke appeared a large dark figure. I knew immediately he was the one whose voice I had heard. He emerged, but I do not recall seeing his feet move. He seemed to float toward me… very tall, dark, clad in a black velvet cape hood draped about his shoulder blades. His hair had a sort of red/black glow to it, very long; top and sides drawn back into a braid down the center of the rest of his loose hair. The rest of his hair lay partly in back, partly across the front of his shoulders. He was nearly seven feet tall, very powerfully built. His face was strong but evil, brows pointing upward toward his ears, combination mustache/beard hanging about an inch below his chin, splitting in the center, then curving, horn like.  Moving toward me he seemed to drink in every inch of me with his piercing green eyes. As he circled me like an animal circling its prey, he slipped first my left dress strap off my shoulder, then the right, causing my scant cover to fall around my ankles. I stood before him, naked save for my black silk thong.

I felt exposed, but had no desire to cover myself. I was at his mercy. I could feel his approval as he viewed my many tattoos, and felt him place his hand on my bottom, cupping the cheek, which held the flaming Undertaker symbol tattoo. Hand still in place, he circled to the front of me, sliding his other hand up my thigh, brushing against my private place, traveling on up to cup my left breast. There he examined the dragon tattoo, tracing the tail down to my nipple, running his thumb across the tip. He displayed the most evil grin I have ever seen and I felt a rush of great desire sweep over me. He spoke again, but I do not see his lips move

“The answer lies in the everlasting spirit”

His hand moved up my back to grab my long auburn hair, forcing my head backward. He moved his other hand up to caress my neck, looked directly into my eyes --- are his eyes full of blood? I close my eyes as he plants an ever so gentle kiss on my mouth --- my chin --- my neck. Suddenly I feel his full open mouth on my neck, then sharp punctures entering my jugular. I am overcome, first by the pain, then by sheer ecstasy as he sucked at my life fluid. I feel it flow out of me but I also feel something else within me. His spirit. He breaks the deadly kiss, shaking my head so I open my eyes to his blood drenched mouth. Grinning even wider, more evil, he traveled his kisses down my body, lingering on my breast, biting the nipple. I moan, not from pain but pure pleasure. As he lays my body back into his arm, his other hand moves down between my legs, lifting me easily into his dark embrace.

“Soon all mankind will witness the rebirth --- of --- The Undertaker.” He says as he carries me toward the coffin. “I --- will not --- rest --- in peace.” The last word he drew out into almost a sigh. The graveyard symphony ever playing in the back of my mind, growing in intensity.

Laying me on the soft velvet coffin cover, I feel him rip away my thong. I have no desire to stop him --- I want him more than I have ever wanted any man in my entire life. He leans over me, kissing me once more, traveling down my body to my ever so private place, leaving a trail of blood guiding his way. I feel him draw me into his mouth, first sucking at me then the ecstasy of his bite. Drinking there his fill, he stands, throws back his cape and climbs upon the coffin, revealing his nakedness to me. My eyes are half lidded, but widen at the sight of his ample manhood --- so large --- so smooth --- so hard. He crawls upward to my face and lies his manhood upon my lips. My mouth opens wide as I take him in, drawing hungrily at him. He does not allow me to drain him; instead he pulls out of my mouth and trails his still hard member down my body, between my legs. He pulls my legs, one on either side of him, up around his waist and roughly forces his member inside of me.

Had I though I felt the epitome of ecstasy before, I was greatly mistaken. This man --- this daemon’s machinations of lovemaking took me to a height I had never been before. His member was both hell fire hot and icy cold. With each thrust I felt as though we were becoming one, the music seemed to accentuate this, symbols crashing with every connection. Not only was he in me bodily, but his whole spirit encompassed me. I felt my body shudder orgasmic ally more times than I had thought was humanly possible. Suddenly, I felt the rush of his life fluids course through me, reaching every inch of my being as he reached his crescendo. 

Stepping down, he pulled his cape once more around him. He then takes my arms and crosses them over my breasts, palms downward like a corpse, then drapes the purple velvet over me. I am finished --- I can no longer move --- no longer breath --- no longer feel anything. I am floating, seemingly without my body.

“Rest in Peace” I heard him say once more. All goes dark.

#

I hear the sound of a distant thunderstorm moving slowly away. Reluctantly I open my eyes. I am in my car --- fully clothed --- completely dry. My arms are crossed over my breasts; palms down like a corpse. The car’s engine is running. On the seat beside me lies a black rose tied with a purple velvet ribbon. A note beside it written in beautiful calligraphic writing 

“You are eternally mine.” It read. “Rest In Peace”

My eyes widened as I looked around me. There was no sign of a cemetery --- no mausoleum.