0 comments/ 67477 views/ 8 favorites Got Rice? By: Mahan Rice stood up from his chair and went into the bathroom; he had to wipe all of the sticky cum from his naked tanned thigh. The excess on his hand he licked clean, he loved the way he tasted. Rice smiled in the mirror, his dirty tangled blonde hair made him look like a surfer boy. Grinning, he stared deep into his blue-grey eyes and admired himself, 5’ 6”, shaved and lean and a healthy six and a half inch cock. He hardly hit the weights out and so wasn’t really well defined with bulging musculature, but was well toned from his running track for the university. Rice wanted to ooze sex today as he had his sights on a local soccer stud; he looked mysterious and was actually more pretty than handsome. Today is the day Brandon is mine, Rice thought to himself as he grabbed his pants and tossed them on before heading off to practice. At the university where Rice went around a track surrounded the soccer field where the team practiced, Rice saw Brandon every practice out there running, playing soccer whilst he did his usual eight lap run. Brandon was a stud at the university and was well toned, he looked like Cobi Jones to Rice and he always wanted to sample his taste. All Rice could think of was how firm Brandon’s ass looked as it was straining in those tight shorts, and how huge his cock had to be. The image of Brandon’s thick brown cock head teasing his pouty lips made him hard and he could hardly wait to make his move. Three laps down, just a few more times I get to see that ass today. He thought to himself as the track whizzed by in a blur. Rice couldn’t see the track anymore, didn’t hear the sounds of the players or other runners practicing, there was only his breathing, the anticipation of waiting for his chance to make his move. Then suddenly, as Rice was dreaming of the musky taste of cock in his mouth, he tripped and landed awkwardly. A few of the soccer players saw this and laughed, but Brandon told them to shut up. Quickly he ran over to Rice. He even smiles like Cobi. Rice thought, and quickly he took a peak at his bulge, he licked his lips. “Are you okay? You took a pretty bad spill.” “Um, yeah I think I’m okay.” Rice replied. He winced as he tried to stand. “Don’t know if I can walk home on it like this though.” “Do you want a ride back home?” Brandon asked, his bare chest streaked with sweat, his shoulder length brown locks a mess. Rice managed a crooked smile, “Yeah, thanks.” “Okay, hold on. Let me tell the guys we’re calling practice short today.” Brandon smirked as he ran off to the rest of the squad. This is my chance Rice thought. He removed his sweaty top and tossed it round his shoulders. Brandon returned shortly and motioned for Rice to move toward him. “Do you need any help getting to my car?” “No,” Rice paused, pondering. He stood and groaned under his breath, this obviously wasn’t going to work. “Well maybe just a hand, don’t want to look like a total wimp you know.” “That’s cool.” Brandon laughed. “Gotta play it tough eh?” Brandon walked to Rice and placed a strong hand around his waist. Rice could smell his sweat as he leaned into his shoulder. Putting his arm around Brendan’s neck they walked. His cock started to twitch in his confining shorts. Brandon’s strong grip with his soft hands sent shivers down Rice’s spine, he wanted Brandon to make him suck him right there, for Brandon to fuck him like he was his willing slave. Once they got to the car Rice let go slowly, his hands grazing Brandon’s muscled ass, he nit his lip and pouted. He could have sworn he felt Brandon return the favour. On the road back to his house, just three miles down the road, they made small talk. “How long you been playing soccer?” “Forever, I don’t know, probably since I was kicking in the womb?” Brandon looked over at him from the driver’s seat. “Well, you kinda look like that Cobi Jones guy.” “You think so? Yeah I get that from time to time.” Rice strained no to look over at Brandon’s bare legs as they shifted the gears, his legs muscular and rippling with each gear they went faster. Slowly, he watched as he could start to make out the bulge in his pants. It was huge! He has to be at least 8” he thought…It’s going to be a tight fit…he bit his lips, still staring. “So where is it?” “Huh?” “Where should I make my move?” Brandon smiled. His eyes twinkled a bit a he caught Rice unawares. Did he just catch me staring at his cock? Rice wondered as he tried to decipher the disarming charms of the boy next to him. “Oh, sorry,” “No problem” “That’s the one just up the way on the end of the cul-de-sac.” Brandon pulled into the cul-de-sac and parked, he looked at Rice with his brown eyes. “Do you need any help getting settled?” “If you don’t mind,” “No problem.” Rice ambled along with the aid of Brandon into the house where he promptly took the opportunity to sit himself onto the nearest chair. “You think you could help me to my room, I don’t want to be stuck in these all afternoon.” He said motioning to his sweaty shorts and T-shirt. “Take my hand,” Rice rose to his feet tentatively with the help of Brandon. He could feel he chest in front of him as he breathed out. Uncertainly he placed his hand on Brandon’s shoulder feeling the firm muscle under his soft hands. He paused, now or never, he thought. Searchingly he looked at Brandon, their eyes locking. Instinctively he placed his other hand behind Brandon’s head as they moved closer, their mouths parting, with gentle the sound of suction. Brandon placed a firm hand around Rice’s head and pulled him in the final distance, their mouths melting together, fighting for the same air. Breathless He pulled back. “What took you so long?” He smirked. Not waiting for the answer he silenced any attempt at a reply with another kiss, his stubble on Rice’s chin. Slowly Rice felt his mouth being parted by a much anticipated visitor and he felt Brandon’s moist tongue proliferating inside his mouth with such force, he couldn’t but help to enjoy the violation. Brandon’s hands caressed Rice’s ass, squeezing and pulling at the cheeks. Rice moaned between kisses. “I want you to fuck me; I need to feel your hard cock inside of me.” He pulled away from Brandon; slowly Rice worked his way to his shorts, stopping to take each of his puffy man nipples into his mouth. Rice’s tongue moved in circles around each nipple as they stood to attention. On his knees he looked into Brandon’s eyes, he looked like a lost little boy. Pulling the waistband down on the shorts Brandon’s semi-erect nine inch cock shot up and greeted his chin. Rice could smell Brandon’s scent, the scent of a man and sweat and cock. Slowly he took him into his mouth, having at first to adjust to the girth of his erect penis; it was nearly as thick as his wrist! Lubing the veined shaft with his spit Rice slowly began to bob his head slowly working more and more of the huge cock past his hungering lips, his intense gaze locked on the sexy eyes above him. Rice enjoyed the feeling of being watched as he sucked Brandon’s cock, seeing the colour contrasts of their skin, the submission he felt at wanting to be used excited him and his own six and a half inches longed to be free of their shorts. Rice slowly worked his way to three quarters the length in his mouth, as Brandon fucked his face furiously. Rice worked himself out of his shorts and began to palm his own needy cock as it dangled between his legs. He could feel Brandon’s cock expanding in his mouth, his balls hard at work below producing the taste Rice needed in his mouth, on his face, in his ass. Brandon stopped; he pulled out of Rice’s mouth with a loud plop. The look on Rice’s face made him laugh. “Don’t worry, you’ll get to suck some more, don’t look so sad.” He smirked and began to finger Rice’s bum first with one finger, then with two. Rice’s moans made his cock spasm, and Rice bucked to meet each of the double-fingered thrusts. “Fuck me Brandon; please…I need your big cock.” Rice pleaded. Brandon removed his fingers and placed them in front of Rice, his pouty pink lips gobbling the taste of Brandon’s foray inside his anus. Positioning the cock head at the anal ring Rice pushed, and slowly his ass stretched to accommodate Brandon’s pole. Rice pushed back to meet Brandon’s thrusts as they began to build up a rhythm. Deeper he felt Brandon push, and then pull, his anus clamping onto Brandon to keep him inside, each thrust he felt himself open a little more the feeling of being completely full, and the emptiness of Brandon withdrawing from him. Rice was yelping in pain, as it then subsided to pleasure the feeling of Brandon’s balls slapping his. He could fee as Brandon used his free hand to get him off while planting kisses on his back. The feeling of his soft full lips against the grain on his back made the hair on his back stand on end. He never wanted that moment to end. The frenetic pace continued, Rice’s cheeks now bright red from the continued pounding and slaps of balls and hand alike. Again he could feel Brandon’s thickness as it expanded further in anticipation of ejaculation. “Ah, I’m going to come.” ”Wait, I want you in my mouth.” Quickly Rice let Brandon exit, the emptiness now complete, the gaping anus as it puckered its opening closed after a few seconds dissatisfied at being without Brandon’s cock. Rice tasted himself of Brandon; he liked knowing that was his taste on that gorgeous hunk’s nine inches. Furiously he sucked him off while jerking himself with equal fervour. Finally, the moment he had bee waiting for came. Rice could feel the thick ropey gobs of cum coat his throat, but there was too much he couldn’t take it all and removing the cock from his mouth he felt relief as the rest splattered on his eager face. He had come too, his ejaculate smeared over his thighs. Spent and happy Brandon kneeled down and kissed him tasting the semen he had just rid himself of. And carefully, with the gentlest of touches Brandon licked Rice’s face clean before planting a sloppy kiss of satisfaction on the pair of pouty lips. And they lay there basking in the glow of after sex, Brandon’s cock still semi hard pressed deep in the small of Rice’s back. “How’s your ankle?” Brandon asked. “I think it feels better, especially since I’m not thinking about it.” “Well, it looks like we’ll just have to keep your mind occupied.” He smirked. Rice returned the smile enjoying the feeling of being wrapped up in Brandon’s muscular arms. “That’s just what I was thinking.” And with that he curled up, comfortable. Got Riff "You're beautiful, Gelsenkirchen", James shouts and the crowd in front of the stage cheers. I have to laugh out loud, for this city is a lot of things but beautiful it's not. Which is one of the reasons I left as soon as I'd finished school and never looked back. Until tonight. Until I got the chance to not only see Metallica live, but to actually get on stage with them. Me and 99 other fanclub members that is. We're standing at the back of the stage and that means that the guys have turned their backs to us most of the time. But James, Kirk and Rob make a point of including us into the show and every now and then one of them will come over, shake hands or even pose for a quick cellphone-snapshot. They are in brilliant form tonight and even though the stadium isn't sold out, I think this is one of the best shows they've ever played. Clearly, James thinks so, too. They're playing Master of Puppets and he's come over again, his eyes ablaze with energy and pure, fierce joy. Our eyes meet, but I'm not sure he actually sees me, he's that high on adrenaline. I've got to admit his look makes my stomach tighten. I can't help it, he's just oozing sex appeal. No man more than fifteen years my senior should have that effect on me. Then he's gone again and I shake my head and chuckle at myself. The band plays for more than two hours and when the lights come back on, I get the feeling, they are as reluctant to leave as the fans are. Two of the roadies usher us off the stage and into a large room with a bar and buffet. Even if the show had been crap, the catering alone would have been worth the extra money the "Onstage"-ticket had cost. It's almost midnight when Metallica enter the room for the promised meet and greet. Lars immediately mingles with the crowd and I can hear his excited chatter wavering over the heads. Rob resolutely pushes his way to the buffet and Kirk longingly stares at the food, too, but is too polite to just ignore the fans wanting to talk to him. James is the last to appear and he only takes one step into the room, seemingly scanning the people. He's now wearing a plain white long-sleeve and of course one of his skin tight black jeans. I wonder if he's got a huge pile stacked away somewhere to last him through the next bootcut-revival. I can see him bending down to whisper something to Lars, who looks up with a grin and a shrug. Again James looks around and our eyes meet. I feel my heart pounding in my throat as he starts walking towards me. He asks my name and I tell him. He shakes my hand. "Hi. I'm James", he says. Of course he knows I know his name, but I appreciate the gesture. We talk about the show and I ask him if they were disappointed by they comparatively small crowd. After all, 30.000 is hardly what they must be used to by now. James grins and shakes his head. "Nah, it doesn't matter if it's eighteen people or 80.000 as long as the mood is right. And the crowd was fun, don't you think?" We discuss the short but already quite volatile history of this new festival. It's interesting how our respective backgrounds and perspectives add up to a bigger picture of what was going on before "Rock im Revier" actually became reality tonight. The whole time I'm aware of the way his eyes keep travelling to my mouth or my neck and occasionally lower. I can feel a blush creeping up my face. First I think I'm imagining things, but after a while it becomes apparent that James' mind is wandering from polite chitchat with a fan to something else entirely. I interrupt myself mid-sentence and just watch as he again seems to be lost in probably dirty thoughts. It takes a few seconds for him to notice my silence. His eyes snap up and he actually blushes slightly, like a schoolboy being caught wool-gathering. I cock my head and give him a little knowing smile. James returns my smile. His fingertips brush over the back of my hand and I feel myself nod in answer to his unspoken question. I've never pictured myself as a groupie but it seems my mind has no say in this decision, my body has already taken over. James places his hand on the small of my back and manoeuvers us through the crowd. I'm glad we're already close to the door, but nevertheless I can feel heads turn and eyes pierce into my back. Lars arches an eyebrow and grins as we push past him. I would have preferred a more discreet exit, but I guess this is as discreet as it gets when dealing with one of the closed fist. As we walk along the corridor, I can feel James' fingers hot through the thin fabric of my T-shirt. He opens a door and we step into a green room. There's a couch, a coffee-table, a large TV and two massage tables and I can't suppress a grin. It's easy to imagine who has to wait their turn for massages. James seems to read my thoughts. He smirks. "We actually draw straws, you know", he says and it's hard to tell if he's joking or not. He closes and locks the door behind us and runs his right hand through his hair. We stand facing each other for an endless moment. He lifts his hand as if to touch me and stops short a breath away of my cheek. I can't believe he really turns shy on me now. Swiftly, I make a decision. I'm usually not that straight forward with a guy, but I figure if I don't take on the initiative, we'll be dancing around each other the whole night. And I know this one night is all we've got. I take a small step forward, invading his personal space. I reach out my hand and knot my fingers into his shirt. It's all the invitation he needs and his lips crash onto mine, his tongue instantly demanding access to my mouth. I moan softly and yield. James tastes of ice-tea and peppermint. His tongue brushes over mine and I feel my toes curl, while my fingers dig deeper into his long-sleeve. As we come up for breath, James rubs his thumb over my already swollen lower lip. "I've been wanting to do that since I saw you on stage", he murmurs and kisses me again, gentler this time but no less hungrily. His hands are on my waist now, crawling up underneath my T-Shirt. He's got big hands with long, strong fingers. It almost feels as if he could reach around my waist, but of course that's me imagining things again. Slender I might be, anorexic I'm not. He pushes my shirt up and over my head, then ghosts his finger over the swell of my breasts. James bows his head and I can feel his warm breath on my cool skin. I shiver, feeling goose bumps erupting all over my body. Then his lips caress my skin, surprisingly soft and incredible erotic. "Jesus", I sigh. "James", he corrects mildly, but with a smile so smug it makes me laugh. He brushes the straps of my bra from off my shoulders and reaches round to unclasp it. The lacy garment drops to the floor. James follows my ribcage from my back to the front of my body, where he delicately strokes the outline of my breasts. His callused fingertips feel rough against my sensitive skin. I start pulling his long-sleeve up, but James gets hold of my wrists. "Hold that thought", he murmurs. Opening a door I haven't noticed before, he disappears into an adjoining dressing room, where I can hear him rummaging through bags and drawers. "Ha! I knew he'd have some." James comes back to me, dropping a pack of condoms onto the coffee table. "Now", he says, cupping my face with both hands, "where were we?" I'm almost as tall as he is, so he only has to slightly incline his head to devour my mouth again. As much as I enjoy being thoroughly kissed by James, after a few moments I press my palms against his chest, pushing him back. "You were about to get out of that", I remind him, pulling at his shirt. "Right", James murmurs and obediently pulls his long-sleeve over his head, revealing his toned chest. Instantly I want to rake my nails through the light fur covering his tattoos, and as I do, I scratch a small pink nipple with the nail of my ring finger, harder than I intended. His breath catches for a moment. And the nipple instantly hardens into a little nub. So he likes it a little rough? I file that away for later use. He pops the button of my jeans and I suddenly remember that I went with comfortable rather than sexy when putting on my undies this morning. James doesn't seem to mind. He slips his hand inside my cotton panties and I gasp, glad that at least I've trimmed everything neatly just this morning. He strokes softly over my clit a few times before pushing his hand lower. I clutch at his shoulder for support as my knees turn weak. My jeans are so tight that he can barely move his hand and the pressure against my skin is already driving my senses into overdrive. When he's reached his goal, James raises an amused eyebrow at the wetness he finds. I grin and press my palm against the bulge in his jeans, delighted to hear his sharp intake of breath. "Seems we're both easy", I comment, applying a bit more pressure. He lets out a low growl but at the same time I can see the corner of his mouth twitch with a smile. "Cheeky, aren't you?" he says and slips a blunt finger inside of me, which effectively shuts me up. All I can think of is how incredible good that feels and that I want more of it. And while my left hand is still clutching James' shoulder, I can feel him grow even harder underneath my right hand. I rub him through the stiff denim and am rewarded with a low groan. Again he catches my mouth for a deep kiss and at the same time pulls his hand out, but only to push my jeans and my underwear down my legs as far as he can. I try to wriggle out of them without breaking the kiss, which proofs to be impossible. We both laugh as I nearly land on my ass. His jeans are so tight he has to sit on the couch to struggle out of them along with his briefs. I drop to my knees between his long legs and take the opportunity to let my eyes rake over his body. He's lean and fit and even though his goatee contains more white than blonde these days, there are a lot of younger men in much worse shape. I let my eyes travel lower. His cock is very straight and dusky red against his otherwise pale skin. I swallow against my dry throat. James is a tall guy and his cock doesn't disappoint in size either. I can see the muscles of his abdomen twitch underneath his skin. The Mighty Hetfield trembling for my touch - I must say I like that. His hands are resting on my shoulders. I hold his gaze as I lick my lips and lean forward. "God, yes," he hisses as I close my lips around him. He doesn't push up but lets me take control of it, watching me through hooded eyes. Slowly I let my lips glide down his shaft. I can smell soap and what I take for fabric softener and for a moment I wish he hadn't showered. But then I inwardly shrug. I guess we'll have worked up new sweat soon enough. When I've sucked in all I can take I wrap my hand around the base of his cock, forming a tight ring with my fingers. I can feel the blood pulsing through the vein underneath the silky skin. James' breathing's become heavier. He slowly pulls the tie from my ponytail and my dark hair snakes around his arm like yet another tattoo. I let my tongue twirl around the head of his cock and he involuntarily arches up a bit, letting out a low moan. Okay, he likes that. On my way down I add just a hint of teeth. I can feel the shudder than runs through his body. "You keep that up and this'll be over in a few minutes", he warns. I hollow my cheeks on the way up, before reluctantly releasing him with an obscene plopping sound. "Now, we can't have that", I say. I fumble for the condoms and fish one from the pack. I've never been very skilled in handling those so I just push the foil package into James' hand and let him deal with it. But James seems to have difficulties, too. "Fuck", he curses under his breath as he tries to roll the rubber down over his shaft, "I forgot he buys them smaller." I can't hide my grin, but James is too occupied to notice. Finally he succeeds and looks at me again, a feral gleam in his eyes. Before he can move, though, I press my palm against his sternum, keeping him in place on the couch. I straddle his hips, but for the moment I keep our bodies separated, so that we can feel each others heat, but don't touch. Not yet. James places his hands on my hips. He could easily pull me down onto him, but he humours me. I seek out his mouth for a heated kiss. His hands glide from my hips over my back to my shoulders and as our tongues seem to melt into each other I lower myself slowly onto his cock. Slowly, ever so slowly I can feel him enter me until finally James is filling me completely. I sigh into the kiss. James wraps his arms around me, one hand cradling my head, the other pressing against the small of my back, pulling my closer still. I can feel my head spinning. Maybe it's the lack of oxygen from our kiss, maybe it's the thought "this really is happening" that keeps echoing in my head. Suddenly I can feel a change in James' movements. Both his arms move lower and he gets a tight hold on me, pushing up from the couch until he's upright, with me clinging to him like a spider monkey. For a moment I fear for his back, but he only carries me for two or three steps before lowering me onto one of the massage tables. "You're okay?" he asks. I nod. "More than okay", I grin and wrap my legs around him again. James snaps his hips forward and from this angle he gets in even deeper than before. We both groan as he hits a sensitive spot deep inside me. Somebody bangs against the door. "We're leaving in fifteen. With or without you!" Lars shouts. When he doesn't get a reply he kicks at the door. "You heard me, Het?" James stops moving and rolls his eyes. "Fuck off!" he yells. I can hear Lars cackle and his footsteps retreat. James runs his hands over my body and I arch into his touch without thinking. "God, you're gorgeous." He bends over me and lightly bites the skin over my collarbone, his fingers stroking down both my arms until he can interlace them with my own. I clench my inner muscles, trying to get him to move again. He grins and squeezes my hands but remains stubbornly unmoving below waistline. "I'm enjoying this way too fucking much to already let you go", he says as if talking to himself. Looking up from our joined hands, he asks: "We're leaving for Munich around noon, but... maybe you can spend the night?" I realize he's noticed the ring on my left hand and, not knowing wedding-bands are traditionally worn on the right hand in Germany, has come to a wrong conclusion. Although all I care about right now is to get him moving again, I can't stop myself from teasing him. "You think that's a fair question while you're balls deep inside me?" James laughs softly and I shiver as the vibration of the sound travels through both our bodies. He pulls back until the head of his cock barely touches my entrance and I already think I've reached my goal, when he stops. "Better?" he asks with an evil smirk. "Goddammit, James Hetfield!" I curse. He raises his eyebrows. "What do you want?" his voice is pure sin and I cringe under the intensity of his gaze. "Are you going to make me beg for it?" I gasp out and I can read on his face that's exactly what he's going to do. Slowly, oh so slowly, he pushes in again and I've got to admit I mewl in frustration. My fingernails dig into his forearms, but he remains unfazed and even slows down further. I give in. "Please, James!" He bends down for a surprisingly gentle kiss, followed by a soft bite into my bottom lip. "Please what?" he whispers against my mouth. I would stomp my foot if it wasn't for the strange angle I'm lying in. I settle for digging my heel into the backside of his thigh instead. "Please fuck me, James. Make me come. I want you. I want to feel your cock inside of me. Deep. Hard. Please!" I can see the effect my words have on him as his pupils dilate until his ice blue eyes seem almost black. He swallows hard. "Fuck", he breaths, "you beg pretty." He unwraps my legs from around his hips and places my feet on his shoulders instead. Gripping my hips like a jaw-trap he pushes all the way in with an almost brutal stab, and I have to bite my own wrist to keep myself from crying out loud. He pushes into me with such force that my body slips up the massage table. "Oh no, you don't", he growls, gets an even stronger hold on my hipbones and pulls me down again, crushing our bodies together. Even though his fingernails are clipped short, I can feel the skin break in two or three spots. I don't know if it's the sharp, unexpected pain or the thought that with my pale, sensitive skin, I'll be carrying his marks for weeks. Probably it's a combination of all that that pushes me over the edge and I come hard, wildly bucking up against James. I vaguely register his deep groan, as James too climaxes, before collapsing over me, covering me with his body, my feet slipping off his sweaty shoulders. I instinctly wrap my arms around him, waiting for my vision to clear again. There are still black spots dancing in front of my eyes. We lie like that for a few shuddering breaths, then he presses a kiss to the side of my neck and pulls himself up. I sigh softly as he pulls out, already regretting the loss of him. "So", he says, as he helps me sit up, "you still haven't answered my question." With his index finger he circles my left nipple, which instantly hardens again. "I love how responsive you are", he says, "and there are some things I'd still like to try..." "Like what?" I try to make it sound like a challenge. My body obviously shouts my eagerness loudly enough, but I don't want him to think I'll drop into his bed like windfall. After all, he likes to hunt. The gleam in his eyes tells me he's accepted my bait, enjoying my verbal teasing. Wrapping my hair around his wrist, James pulls my head slightly back, exposing my neck. He brushes his lips over my skin, letting his canine scrape over my throat, then soothing the skin with the soft tip of his tongue. "Well for one thing", he then says as if putting together a shopping list, "I haven't tasted you yet, and I very much want to." He grins at the little needy sound that escapes my lips. Challenge accepted. Leaning in, he whispers into my ear. "I want to make you scream." Bastard. He knows exactly how sexy his voice is. Yeah, I guess, being a singer he should know, too. I get off the abused massage table and steal another kiss, letting my hand travel down his back to his ass and squeeze. "How could I say no to that?"