4 comments/ 38930 views/ 9 favorites Six Hours in Singapore By: willemm This is the state I was in anyway, when I had to get on the plane to come home, not feeling too sad to be doing so, remembering all of this, the whole trip, but those moments of nakedness and sex, at the beach, in the house, the three of us naked and aroused, going to bed together, too tired to sleep, tangled up in each other, laying, sitting, rolling over, wobbling and shaking as one of us got up for water, to piss. I was looking forward to seeing Ilsa again, looking forward to climbing into bed with her, looking forward to the climax of my life, looking forward to perhaps half an explanation as to why I was coming so quickly. This is the state I was in when I first met Trent. I had booked a seat at the very back of the plane, in a row of four seats that was otherwise empty, at least when I went online. So at first I was disappointed when someone else started to unpack some of the contents of a carry-on bag onto the seat at the other end of the row. I carried on with my book, until the plane quietened down, and he sat, I heard him breathe out rather heavily, and glanced over. He had a book, and a newspaper, and what looked to be a hard covered pad of writing paper. He looked up and we caught each other's eye. He smiled. And might have said something, no more than a "Hey", which I returned. I suppose our eyes may have lingered for a tiny bit longer than usual, than is required for a casual greeting to a fellow passenger, they might not have though. At once however, I wanted to carry on looking. He was, kind of, amazing looking. Younger than me I thought, five, maybe six or seven years, not boyish at all, but certainly young looking, his mouth, his forehead, his eyes free from the lines and creases that were already beginning to give my face what I generously called "character". And those eyes, I noticed first, with calm appreciation, green-blue I suppose, but clear and piercing and quite beautiful. He had medium length dark brown hair, a soft looking, full mouth, a strong jaw, what looked like a firm slim body. I glanced again, at his black linen jacket, already showing the wrinkles of being worn, his cream shirt, French cuffs left loose and unlinked, slim cut black trousers, brown leather Birkenstocks. He carried an attractive cocktail of style and scruffiness. I read, and steadied myself for the first long leg (shorter leg) of my trip home. Only I kept glancing over, at him, crossing his legs, uncrossing them, looking at his book, putting it down again. I wondered if he was a nervous flyer. I also found myself wondering more or less immediately about his cock. Jesus. I had sex on the brain. This was how I occupied myself as the plane was readied for take-off, remembering Paul's bare body, his hardening prick, my sister, Martin and Jools, undressing with them, looking at them getting hard, feeling them in my mouth, and more and more thinking of this strange man, his naked body, thinking of undressing him, taking off those black trousers, that shirt, his underwear, looking at his naked cock, looking at him naked. I felt myself getting hard, and looked, I saw the familiar bulge of my penis, pushing out my loose trousers in a thick curve. Okay, the flight was long, but I had something else now to kill the time. I looked at my book, at him, again, already again. I saw his knee jiggling up and down. He looked over at me, our eyes met again. Shit. "Um, you okay? You... don't like flying?" He spoke, an English accent. "Oh, well, I mean, huh, yeah not really no, not especially." "I thought, you look a little nervous." "Mmm, I'm okay, just, you know, take off, and landing, the descent really, and, and some of the high altitude stuff." "Right, so not much." "No, they'll be serving soon, a steady intake of alcohol should see me through." "Sure, I wish I had something to offer, valium, something." "Yeah, pills might help." He turned back to the front, to the window nearest him. I knew I would normally leave him to it, not push for conversation, and I was on the verge of doing this anyway, if he didn't want to speak neither did I. And neither did I. Yet I did. "Are you stopping in Singapore?" "No, London, eventually." "Sure." "You?" I took this as some encouragement, that he wasn't completely averse to conversation. "Berlin, eventually." "Right. I like Berlin, I mean, I've only been there once, but I liked it." "Yeah, I love London, I studied there for a year or so, a while back." "Right, where abouts?" "Oh, well at UCL, I lived in a house in Hackney, yes, Hackney I think." "Shit, sorry about that." "No, I liked it, I liked it." He holds his hand out to me. "I'm Trent, by the way." "Hi. I'm Willem, or Will, either's good." He turned away again. I glanced, I couldn't help it, I glanced at his groin, his trousers were just tight enough to show the faintest of bulges, the hint of his soft cock enclosed by his clothing, god, this hadn't really happened for a while, not since Ilsa, not actually meeting a man I was attracted by, it was all usually far more theoretical, I had successfully closed off that part of my attention, but with this guy I found myself imagining being with him, god, somewhere quiet, private, bending over to him, unzipping his trousers, reaching for his soft penis and taking it in my mouth, feeling him stiffen, pleasuring him, sucking his cock, god, I let the thought linger in my mind, I wanted to suck his cock, this strange beautiful younger man: I want his hard cock in my mouth. I let thought drift. I don't see a wedding ring, but I assume heterosexuality, he has that look, I don't have a thing for straight men, I know this as well, straight seeming certainly, masculine, and fantasy is a different thing altogether, but I have done my chasing of straight boys, and I am fairly sure - am I? Have I picked up something, anything, some subtle sign of interest? - I would be wasting my effort to try anything, to hope for anything. Still though. It is a long flight. I have nothing much better to do than to chat, with complete innocence. And he instigates some of our conversation, when he doesn't have to, when there is no reason to. He asks about my trip, where I have been in Australia, what I did. And I mention the beach. As soon as I can I take the conversation towards an area of erotic possibility. "Oh I know that beach, I've never been, but yeah, that's got a large naturist section right?" "Yeah, that's where we were." "Right, who again? You and your sister? And her husband?" "Yes, the three of us." "Good day?" "Really lovely yes. Do you go to nude beaches?" "Uh, well, I do when I can I suppose, which is not often, but, do you know what I haven't actually, I have skinny dipped once, a couple of times, but no, never been to a nude beach. You? Do you go a lot?" "Oh sure, yeah, at home, saunas, bathing, whenever." "Right, different in Britain really, it's all seen as a bit more naughty, by most people, I mean, naturism is a thing, but not as casual I don't think, certainly not as in Germany." "Of course, I think it is changing a little though, new people, younger people, from the East as well." "Okay, seems a shame, no more nude hiking." "Well now, I have never been nude hiking, sounds fun though, you?" "No, although, no." "Oh, come on, tell me, come on, we are plane friends, we never see each other again. What?" "Huh, well, I did - why am I telling you this? -- I did, when I was younger, I went camping with a friend, on a walking holiday I guess, and we swam in this lake together, this small lake, nude, and we stayed nude, for the day, and the next day, half way through, we had a few miles to go, and one of us, well, I suggested we walk it naked, and we did. Shit, I've haven't thought of this for years, we stripped off, and walked naked, for at least a mile or two." "And you enjoyed this?" "I did yes, it was nice, with our big boots on, our ruck sacks. Everything else all free and easy" "Sounds good" It did sound good, I pictured him naked, fully, without a bag or boots, walking over a beach, a wide stretch of grass, into a river, his soft cock wobbling as he walked. Just walking, oblivious to anyone else, anyone watching. Some time passed, he closed his eyes, his iPod plugged into his ears, I took the chance to look more closely, at his hands, his face, his crotch. And then I closed my eyes, as he started to wake, I closed my eyes and thought of him looking at me, thinking, walking with me, swimming naked with me, my soft cock, sitting next to each other on a grass bank, our bare legs touching, our soft cocks pushed up straight by our thighs, letting my hand drift onto him, his hand moving to my back, both of us closing our arms around each other, feeling our naked bodies pressing together, looking, just looking, as his cock stiffens, as both of us become erect, and, mmm, as I push him back, onto his back, and roll over him, feeling his penis against mine, his strong rigid cock hard against my own, his hands on my back, stroking my bare ass, rolling over again, my hands on him, holding him, stroking his cool firm ass, pulling his hard member against me, stroking our hot cocks together, shifting back, looking, kissing his bare body, lowering my lips and taking his stiff penis in my mouth. It was a way to fly. I had him undress for me, in front of me, slowly, with much hesitation and nervousness, his jacket, his shirt, showing me his firm bare hairy chest, his tight belly, then his trousers, sliding them over his slim strong legs, standing in his underwear, tight, white, gripping his penis firmly underneath, I look at the shape of him, the long thick curve of his bulging dick, he hesitates some more, sweetly anxious about stripping in front of another man, knowing why, knowing he is not just stripping, becoming naked, but that he is already aroused, I look, I visualise the large pressing arc of his still hidden cock. And he strips naked, holding his underwear in two hands, pulling, easing the material down, over his thick pubic bush, exposing this dark patch of hair, pushing, until I can see the thick root of his penis, and he lowers his pants, his dick springs free, half hard, springing outwards, away from his large tight balls, the retracted hairy pouch of his scrotum, his penis bounces free, and up, I watch his cock rise upwards in quick spurting pulses of blood and engorgement, dancing away from his thighs, up to his flat belly, until he is completely erect, naked, in front of me, uncircumcised, straight and thick and smooth, I imagine him huge, I visualise his cock rearing between us, bigger than mine, longer, thicker, a monstrous and eye watering length of rigid male sex. My eyes are shut, I am drifting on the border between sleep and consciousness, and I can feel my cock is wonderfully hard. I wonder if he is awake, if he is glancing. I feign deeper sleep. My trousers are loose, but not so much so an erection would point upwards in an obvious and aggressive and unpleasant display of arousal. It would show though, I know this, if he looked he'd see the tell-tale bulge of a man with an aroused penis, I kept my eyes shut, I thought of stepping close to him, hearing his breathing become harsh, further betraying his desire, reaching for him, closing my hand around his thick hot stiff stem, and easing his foreskin back, pulling it, stretching it over his shiny wet dark red oozing bulb, I think of stroking his naked cock, and feel myself stiffen some more. I want him to be looking, I realise, I want him to notice the swelling of my penis in my trousers, I want him to assume an erection I have no conscious control over, but I want him to see, to be drawn to the bulging shape of my swollen cock. I want him to think. I want him to have thoughts he didn't know he was capable of, thoughts of another man, being with another man, fucking him, watching him strip, watching me, and I did, I undressed for him this time, as slowly as he had, my own shirt, shoes, trousers, letting him see the more obvious proof of my excitement, watching him notice the large prominent point my stiff penis was making in my underwear, waiting, looking, seeing something getting longer in his trousers, seeing his cock grow, as he sees me, as he looks at the shape of my dick, my nearly bare body, slighter than his, slimmer perhaps, he looks as I look, as I see the lengthening rail of his dick I grip my underwear and pull them off in one quick movement, yanking them down, feeling my hard stem catch on the elastic, being pulled down, before release, and bouncing upwards, out from my tight full balls, away from my body. I see him stare, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open, I stare at the soft moist interior of his mouth, anticipating more, as he gazes at this now nude man, in front of him, stripping naked, his thick cock still rising up, stiff, fuck I am stiff, I think of getting hard for him, completely, superbly erect, until my cock rages up in front of my stomach, as thick and hard and long as I ever am, he looks at my size, at the length and thickness of my dick, at my unwavering tumescence. I hold myself and grip my solid shaft, and ease back my foreskin for him to look at all of me, to look at the shiny damp dark red tip of my prick, the smooth bulbous cap, split almost into two plump cock cheeks by the tiny pursed slit of my urethra. In my head I walk to him, and take his hand and place it over my stiff organ, and he holds me, fuck, he feels another guy's hard dick for the first time. I recognise the look of near abandonment, of unadulterated lust, depraved and unknown desires, he is mine, I know it, he wants to be mine, he wants to be filthy, shameless, he desires his own degradation. "Suck my cock." He looks up, to my eyes, his hand still wrapped around my dick, stroking now, softly, slowly, pulling my soft skin over the rigid core of my engorged stem. "What?" "Get on your knees, take my penis in your mouth, suck my cock, I know you want to, you know you want to, take my hard cock in your soft little mouth, go on, suck my cock you little slut, get on your knees..." (this is not my thing at all, not even in play, even in fantasy, where is this coming from?) He does, he drops to his knees in front of me, my cock sticking up straight in front of him, vertical, utterly rigid. He holds it again. "Take it in your mouth, go on, suck my cock you little slut, suck my cock you depraved slut, go on, take a guy in your mouth, suck another man's hard dick, let me see you, suck it, fuck, suck it like a filthy slut, go on straight boy, suck my hard cock... oh... oh fuck..." I look as he bends my dick and slide his open mouth over the end of it, I watch his lips slip moistly over my tight smooth glans, and he carries on, lower, his mouth on my thick stem, fuck, I can feel him there, in my near sleep, I can feel his beautiful soft lips sliding over my rigid penis, his tongue, fuck, his tongue flicking up and down, licking me, caressing the underside of my dick. "Suck my cock, oh fuck, you filthy little slut, oh god, you're a good little cocksucker, oh fuck, suck me, suck me like a dirty slut, I am going to come in your mouth, you are going to feel me come, and fill your sweet little mouth with my hot cum, oh yeah, suck it, suck my hard cock, let me see you touch yourself, oh fuck, get your cock out, you're hard aren't you? You love this don't you? Let me see how much, let me see your stiff dick." I see him fumble with his trousers, his buttons, zip, pushing himself up slightly, pulling his flies apart, tearing at his clothes, pushing them off, his trousers, his underwear, and exposing his cock, god, he is so fucking hard, his cock springs up, out, already completely rigid, so fucking big, thick, long, his dick bounces out of his pants and rears up from his now bare thighs, he grips himself at once and starts to rub his naked penis, I watch him, my cock still in his mouth, his hand fingering my tight scrotum, stroking my tight tender balls, as he masturbates hard and fast, his hand stroking his thick stem, pulling his soft foreskin back and forth, I can see the shiny wet tip of his dick, I can hear his breathing, the slapping sound of his moist skin moving over his taut tender glans, I hold his head, I thread my fingers through his hair, feeling him move, feeling his lips on my penis, looking at my stiff dick slide inside his mouth, I feel real and imaginary climaxes getting close. I stop, before either of us come. This is too much, I can feel a certain dampness now in my underwear. I open my eyes. As if waking. I glance over quickly, I am sure he was looking, he seems to be far too attentive to his book. I look at myself. The long curve of my straining cock is unmistakable. I look more obviously over to him. "Need the toilet I think." And let him make what he wants to of this. By the time I get into the small toilet my cock has lost some of its firmness, but I still push down my trousers, reach into my underwear and pull out my warm heavy penis, my balls hang low and full, stretching the skin of my heat-softened scrotum, I grip my thick stem, the urge to come right here, right now is almost uncontrollable, I stroke myself, slow, fuck, my cock stiffens immediately, I feel it thicken, harden between my fingers, as I stroke, barely, as I do little more than hold, and pull my foreskin back, I look at myself in the mirror, my face, my clothed body, the dark pink prong of my exposed dick, and glans, god I have leaked so much pre-cum my tip is slickly moist, covered in thick clear bubbly fluid. I hold my soft skin back, and stroke my bare tip with my other fingers, I form a circle and slide my slippery damp bulb through, and back, fuck, I feel myself stiffen, but feel a more immediate sensation, one I know will become critical, unless I stop, do I want to? The idea of coming at forty thousand feet has some appeal, quickly, stroking myself harder, quickly, ejaculating over the black plastic toilet bowl. I stop. I let myself soften enough to piss. I sit back down. He is awake, drinking a beer. I catch the right eye and ask for a glass of white wine. "When is your flight to Berlin?" "Oh, Paris first unfortunately, tomorrow morning, early, I have to see someone there, or, not have to, but, anyway then to Berlin, so I have a few hours. I hate hanging around airports, I booked a room for the night. You?" "Oh, same really, I have about six hours to kill. No room though, I am trusting Singapore airport to be comfy and distracting enough." "For six hours? Scheiße. You... you..." Can I suggest it? I want to. Do I trust myself? Am I past the point that this matters much? And he is straight, of this I am sure. To hang out, shower, drink a little. Be friendly. "You should use my room, with me, relax properly, have a shower, if you want to. Take a nap." "Wow, um, well, really?" "For sure, why not?" "I couldn't, really, it's your room, you want it to yourself." "Oh, it's a few hours, it will be nice to get to know you a little better, before we fly off and never see each other again." "Sure, but, I really don't know you." "I know, now's the chance. Oh, you mean, you don't trust me? I may rob you?" "No, no, I mean, well, I suppose I do, haha, silly isn't it." "Uh-huh. Listen, here's my passport, here's my flight, I don't trust people very easily either, seriously, have a look, and you know, if I do anything bad, you can track me down." He looks, without taking either, then looks up to me, at me, our eyes meet. And he breaks into a natural and infectious smile. "It's a kind offer, and, if you mean it, I'll take you up on it. I tell you what, I'll let you get off first, to escape, if you want, if you were being polite and didn't really mean it, and if you don't wait, well, auf weidersehen. If you do, sure, we'll get to know each other a bit." Six Hours in Singapore I think I fall in love a little. "Okay, a fine plan." We talk, eat the meal they provide, have a couple of drinks each. He talks of a girlfriend, still in Australia, he has to return to London for work, she is staying for another week or two. I tell him of Ilsa, I reassure, without completely avoiding the suggestion I might be into men too. "You have a couple of weeks in London on your own then?" "Hmm, yeah, terrible really but I am sort of looking forward to it, having the flat to myself." "Sure, what do you say? 'When the cat's away'?" "Indeed, and you? Were you, I mean, did you behave yourself in Melbourne?" My stomach takes a small tumble. Did I? It would be hard to say I did, and I'd love to tell him, can I? Why would he care? "You are hesitating? Did you misbehave?" "Well, the friends I stayed with in Melbourne are, well, they are nudists I guess." "Shit, really? At home, obviously?" "Of course yeah, whenever they can, but always at home, and I joined them. So, we were all nude, the time I was there." "Wow, sounds good, I mean it, sounds nice." "Hmm, and..." "Yeeaaahhhs?" "The last night but one, we got a little silly, the three of us." "Silly?" "Yeah, we had a big night out, and got back, and stripped off, and, well, you know?" "A threesome. Well, you hear about these things, and, I mean, I'm curious, he didn't mind, whoever he was, didn't mind you with his girlfriend? Or her, doing, with you?" "Uh, well, uh, there was no her." "No her? So... oh, ah, right." "Yeah, just, me and my best friend, my oldest friend, and his boyfriend, three of us, all guys, together." "Okay I get it, so, and Ilsa?" "Yeah, she knows I have a past, and kind of likes it in fact, she would not be so pleased it is in the present now." "No, well, no, not really." "And what happened?" "You are interested? Most straight guys are turned off by this." "Hmm, maybe, or they pretend to be." "Not you?" "Not... completely. So?" "Well, okay, we were all naked, together, and, started touching ourselves, our cocks I mean, then we touched each other, I had my hands on my friend's dick, and his boyfriend's, they were both touching me, my dick I mean, and we all started to get hard, then, well, we were, god, who is listening to this? Suddenly all three of us were so fucking hard. So, okay, the boyfriend sucked my cock, and masturbated, my friend stood up, in front of me, and I took his cock in my mouth." "Shit, was it good?" "Amazing, I didn't come though, we'd all taken some E, and, I don't know, it stops me coming sometimes, I haven't taken it for years though, but, they both came, god, sorry, I had Martin in my mouth, so I felt him come, tasted him, and then I took his boyfriend in my mouth as well, his hard dick, as he was about to come, so both of them, I loved it, I sucked both of them, both of them filled my mouth with their spunk." "Fuck, fuck, good night then." "Yeah, one to remember." We sat in silence for a moment, and I couldn't stop myself from looking. Was he aroused? Could I see if his cock had stiffened? As I spoke, at the thought of me fucking two other men? I was sure the shape of his cock was more visible, sure, fuck, I was sure he had become slightly hard thinking of me, three men, naked, erect, their stiff penises in my mouth. I let him visualise, and process, and linger over the thoughts I know he is having. So, now, he has agreed to share a room with a guy he has just met, in a strange airport, who he knows likes men as much as women. Is he okay with this? More than okay? The hours pass, we talk more, glance, I am sure he does, I do, at his face, his body, his crotch. When it seems we never will we land, and disembark. He does let me get off first. I wait for him. He grins again when he sees me. I smile back. And feel competing pulses within my body. Singapore airport is large and pleasant enough, lots of green spaces, comfortable chairs, eating and drinking opportunities. I am glad of the room though, it's not the seven hour flight behind me, more the twelve hour one ahead that I need to prepare for, and the eight hours in between. We walk with our carry-on luggage, his a brown leather satchel, mine a less impressive black record bag. I am unsure how this will go, how relaxed either of us will be, what impulses might drive us. I check in, Trent hangs back a little, I'm not sure why. We ride the elevator in sudden and strange silence. Both of us facing out. I think to press the brake, to stop us rising, to turn and tear open his clothes, to reach into his trousers for his thickening cock. I open the door and we both step inside. It's quite spacious, a bed, a sofa, desk and chair, TV, bathroom. I toss my bag on the floor and sprawl over the easy seat. Looking back at Trent. Still standing. "Please, think of it as our room, not mine, treat it as you would your own." "Thanks Willem, this is really kind of you. Fuck, I do need to stretch out, relax." "I know, do you want a drink? Mini bar I know, but...?" "Oh, yes, be nice, anything really, some whisky, if they have any." I set up two large whiskies for us. And sat. And drank. Trent relaxed, it seemed, we looked at each other. Would he? Could he? He was straight, attached, completely so? Curious at all? Curiosity would only get either of us so far, arousal was the thing. Was he? At all? Had he felt something unfamiliar on the plane? Had he had thoughts he had always previously sent away? "Oh fuck I need a shower, do you mind if I go first? I need to be out of these clothes, and clean, and fresh. Okay?" "Sure, I mean, of course, it's your room, whatever you want." "Great, thanks." I undo my shoes, pull them off, socks as well, as I look at Trent kicking his sandals off, stretching his toes, rubbing his feet. I want to undress right here, in front of him, I want to be naked in front of him. No. I can't. Too much too soon. I do strip in the bathroom, looking at my naked body in the large mirror, looking at my soft cock, cooled again by the air conditioning, my scrotum small and tight, my penis shrunk to a tiny point of pale skin, a small round-ish protrusion covered by the tapering crinkle of my foreskin. I empty bladder and bowels and step under the shower, turning the dial first as hot as I can stand, then as cold. It's about as good a shower as I can remember having. Strong, thick, numerous jets of water crashing over my scalp, my face, my chest. I turn into it and feel my skin tightening up, my cock reacting to the cold, my testicles being drawn further up. I muster up the energy to find shampoo, soap, and clean myself all over, under my arms, over my belly, slathering my pubic hair, my balls, exposing my tiny pink cock head and washing myself there, between my legs, over my smooth wet ass, and lower, between my thighs, I run soapy fingers over the root of my cock, over my perineum, softly rubbing my smooth tight anus, soaping, cleaning, just, barely, pushing the very tip of my finger inside, fuck, I feel the clenching tube of my tight asshole, feel a reactive jolt of sensation in my penis. Okay, I'm clean. I take some more time to clean my teeth, remaining nude, letting the circulating air dry me off as much as possible. I reach for a large white towel, the ones I only ever use in hotel rooms. In a minute or so I have dried off. And face the mirror again. My clothes are still on the floor behind me, I think to put them on, instead fold them up onto the towel rail. Fair enough. I wrap the towel around my waist and join Trent again. He is sitting on the end part of the sofa, his glass in his hand on his lap, his eyes shut. He opens them as I open the bathroom door. I see him notice I am only dressed in a towel, my legs, my feet are bare, my belly, my now exposed chest. I know he can see the soft small shape of my dick underneath the towel. The idea of immediately discarding this too causes thrilling eddies of pleasure to circle within me. I wait, I force myself, if nothing happens then nothing happens, I don't want to spoil the next few hours for either of us, and I don't want to know now, this early, that he hasn't been turned on by the idea, the fantasy, the possibility of this. Of me. Fuck. He stands. Finishes his drink. "Are you okay if I take a shower as well?" "Of course, please, help yourself." "Thanks Will." His use of the diminutive pleases me, more than it should. I watch him walk the few steps to the bathroom, only his feet bare, closing the door behind him. I feel almost palpable disappointment. Did I think he would strip in front of me? In a few minutes I hear the shower, and am able to think of him naked, standing where I just had, water cascading over him, cold, hot, soaking him, flattening his hair, flowing over his bare body, through his pubic hair, along the length of his cock, washing himself as I had, exposing his soft tip, running his fingers over it, over his tight balls, between his legs. Would he? Does he? I think of him touching his bare asshole, stroking himself there. I pour another drink for both of us, still not dressing, hoping to lounge, that this is okay, for us both to sit and drink wrapped in matching white towels. I hear the bathroom door open. Trent steps back in. In nothing but a towel. I stare, trying not to, I look at his bare chest, broader than my own, but smoother, paler I guess, despite his holiday, hairless, his belly is not merely flat, but toned, worked, not to the point I would think obsession, but he carries the ripped look of some regular working out, combining with his natural, youthful tightness, his slim waist drawing in to his hips. I can see the thin trail of dark pubic hair snaking up to his large deep navel, and the shape of his cock, just, a slight bulge underneath the towel, shifting as he walks. He stands and stretches out cramped muscles, facing away, I gaze at his back, his strong looking shoulders, the full curve of his ass. I tease myself with the idea there is just one layer of material shielding him, covering him, separating us. "Listen, uh, I don't know whether you were going to have a sleep or something, but, uh, feel free, if you want to, you know, get in bed, turn the lights out, I am sure I can have a sleep on this thing." He indicates the sofa, which would be slightly small, slightly uncomfortable. "No, you can't lay out properly there, really, it's a huge bed, we can both use it to have a doze, if you're okay with that?" "Uh, of course, if you're sure." We're both being so polite, so coy, it is driving me wild. "Of course. You want another drink first?" "Mmm, yeah I do." I pour and hand it to him. Our fingers touch, quickly, currents pass into me. "I should, I should dress I suppose." I am sure he is inviting me to tell him not to. I try this out. "No, no need for that, let your body relax, both of us, certainly to sleep, I hate sleeping in clothes." And I take the step, I dare myself. "I don't know why we're bothering with towels really. I mean..." I let the thought form itself, leave the sentence hanging. I look. I look directly at him. I can't, I can't stop myself. And I unwrap my towel from around my waist, and drop it behind me, and stand in front of him, completely and suddenly naked. I register his shock, his eyes, dropping over my bare body, looking, the knowledge of his gaze slowly taking in my nudity sends fresh prickles of electric sensation inside me, he looks, fuck, down, to my slim waist, my own tight abdomen, the thick tufts of my vivid pubic hair, to my dick, god, I can see this is where his eyes are lingering, trying not to, not to look, but looking, at the soft frond of my cock, soft, small, perched on top of the tight round pouch of my balls, I don't move, I let him look, wanting him to, wanting him to stand and stare and not stop, I let him register the size of my soft dick, the tiny looking protrusion of my exposed male sex, I want him to feel the strangeness of this, my sudden nudity, but not to be repelled. Will he be? Is he? "Sure, why not..." His voice has dropped, is low, hoarse sounding. My stomach churns and falls. I watch. Trent pulls clumsily at his towel, at the wedge he has made to secure it around himself, he pulls, and loosens, and lets it fall away from him. And in this movement becomes as naked as I already am. And it's my turn to stare at his nude body. His nude body. Fuck. We have stripped in front of each other, this strange beautiful handsome straight man has just stripped naked in front of me. And I look. At his thick, dense patch of pubic hair, his long toned naked thighs, up again, to his now exposed penis. Oh my god. I gaze at Trent's smooth soft dick. Small as well, smaller than average perhaps, smaller than me even, god, uncircumcised, his soft foreskin forming a crinkled hood over the tiny point of his glans, his stem slim, short, I realise his ball are large, larger than mine, drawn in super tight by his surely cold shower, the reactive skin of his dark hairy scrotum is pulling his full oval testicles close to him, and is pushing the soft small length of his dick outwards, just slightly, so it hangs over his fat balls, but points just slightly out, as if sprouting from the dark curly nest of his thick bush. I can see, as he turns, to tidy up his towel, I stare at the firm looking silhouette of Trent's bare sex. We face each other again, having said nothing for far too long now. I drink, to do something, Trent does the same, standing, I take a turn around the room, as if checking things out, pulling drawers open, wardrobe doors. I turn, Trent is at the window, I look at him from behind, his long strong looking back, his broad muscular shoulders, and his ass, oh fuck, his ass. Smooth, hairless, but so full, so round and strong and firm. I stare at his perfect male body, the shadows and cuts of his musculature, the curve and concave indent of his naked ass, the dark line of his cleft. He turns. Sees me looking. I forget to pretend I wasn't. And don't stop. I look now at his front, the tight saucers of his pectoral muscles, his dark small nipples, the lines across his abdomen, my eyes are drawn lower, lower, to the inviting source of his pubic hair, following this lower, as it widens, thickens, spreads into the delta of his pubic thatch, fuck, and his cock, that fucking cock, so soft, so slim and small, his small stem and tiny tip shielded by a covering of smooth pale soft skin, the smallest creased folds of foreskin extending out beyond his short length. So achingly beautiful, pushed up, fuck, up by the clenched folds of his fat scrotum, his sweet male sex perched and protruding at the centre of his utterly, ravishingly nude body. "Do you know I might have a lie down. Please, Trent, if you like to, relax properly, on the bed." My voice is getting as ragged as his. "Yeah, I might, thanks." And we step naked to the bed, closer again to each other's bare bodies, close enough to breathe in his odour, the smell of water, soap, the hint of something deeper, of hidden exchanges of thought and function. We both walk to the same side of the bed, stand less than a foot apart, I can hear his breath, and feel it on my neck. I sense his body heat, emanating from him, our soft naked dicks almost touch. I smile and pull the cover back, inviting him in. He smiles back, and sits, more or less upright, against a fat pair of pillows. I don't pull the quilt back, I leave his body exposed. His legs crossed, his thighs together, his delicately beautiful soft cock pushed upwards, vertical, too soft, too small and tight to flop back against his belly, held in place by the soft seam running along the underside of his prick and onto the bulging stretched sac of his balls. It occurs to me to remain where I am, to carry on looking, with provocative intent, to sit next to him, to reach and touch him, the delay of this however, the denial, it's too delicious to end it. I walk around the other side, pull the cover back, and get in next to him. We sit, side by side, naked, taking sips of whisky, and I stare, with less furtiveness than before, I let my gaze wander up and over Trent's smooth slim naked young body. "So, you've never... " Can I bring this up? Would this be too direct? "...you've never had any sort of gay experiences?" "Uh, no, none at all, no." "Wow, not even when you were young, younger? With friends? Experimenting?" "No. No." His voice is still low, ragged, nervous, or thick with desire? Barely hidden arousal? I am still looking with blatant interest at his chest, his stomach, his soft little dick. I am staring at his exposed cock as I speak. "And have you ever wanted to?" "Wanted to?" "Sure. I mean, haven't you ever... wanted another guy? Or wondered, or fantasised?" "Um, well, a little, occasionally. Yeah." "Uh-huh, what sort of thing?" "Oh, you know, the usual I guess." "Tell me." "Oh, I suppose, seeing another guy getting aroused, watching him get hard, feeling him, feeling his cock getting harder, I suppose I do..." "Uh-huh?" "I do... I do fantasise about..." "Trent, it's okay, tell me." "... about, I mean I have thought about it, once in a while, the moment I might suck another guy, I mean, the moment I, I suppose me, or he pulls off his underwear, and his cock is already hard, getting harder, and I hold it, and, well, I think of having another man's hard cock in my mouth, sucking his cock, tasting him, feeling the hardness, the thickness, the taste of a man's naked glans, this part of him. His cum. God. I do. I suppose, I do fantasise about sucking a man's penis and feeling him fill my mouth with hot cum." "Mmm, it is nice, fuck, I mean it, both ways, seeing a guy with your hard cock sliding into his mouth, and sucking a guy's cock, god, this is just so good, feeling his dick getting hard as you kiss him, as you slide your lips over his tip, tasting him, feeling him getting so aroused, feeling him come, god yes." There is silence. I look. Trent is still completely perfectly soft. I check myself. I see the first signs of arousal, just, my cock has thickened, just slightly, is laying heavier against my bare thigh. We can hear the hum of the air conditioning, the chatter of TV noise coming from other rooms. Our silence builds to an unbearable pitch. "Do you think of anything else?" "Oh, I suppose..." "Uh-huh?" "Just, I mean... being naked with another guy, looking, looking at his body." "Why don't you look at me, now." He turns and faces me, our eyes meet. Fuck, those eyes. I look at him, slowly, up and down, lingering over his chest, his contorted stomach, his thick bush, his soft little dick, and I stare, finally, I stare at his small bulging sex, the tight crinkled skin of his scrotal sac, the slim digit of his cock. I stare. And hear him breathe. He is fighting this, fighting his own arousal. I look up, sit back slightly. "Do you want to look at me, properly? Another man? Naked?" "Yes. Can I?" I don't answer, I let him get there himself. Finally his eyes drift away from my face, over my own chest, my slim belly, my dense roof of pubic hair, my own exposed penis. "What are you looking at?" "Your cock." "What are you thinking?" "That it's... that it's..." "Uh-huh?" "That's it's lovely, soft, small, so smooth looking, just, I... god, I've never been this close to a guy, naked I mean, both of us. Fuck." "Hmm, it's quite nice isn't it. Do you like looking at me?" "Yes. Yes. Do you like looking at me?" "Fuck yes, I do, god, you have a beautiful strong body, so lean and toned, your chest, your stomach, and I love your soft little dick, it looks so good, so small and precise." Six Hours in Singapore More silence. "What else have you thought about?" " " "Have you ever touched another man?" "No." "Do you want to?" "Yes. Fuck." I say no more. I stay still. I look at Trent, his heaving chest, his mouth open, his pupils dark and wide. My arousal matches his, but both of us are still denying our physical response. "Trent." "Yes." "Touch me, touch my naked body, please" my voice is thick, heavy with lust. "Touch my chest, my stomach, oh god, touch my cock, I want to feel your hand on my soft cock." I look as Trent looks at me, at my naked skin, my quivering trembling prick. And he moves his hand, saying nothing, I feel him touch me, for the first time, his fingers grazing the skin of my shoulder, my arm. Then over, lower, he touches my bare chest, his palm covers my small stiff nipple. I fight my own arousal, I am delirious with adrenalin but I want to perpetuate the feeling that nothing is happening, whilst everything is happening, whilst Trent hovers over my belly, to my side, his fingers barely touching me, back, oh god, back to my stomach, circling my navel, I feel him touching the soft hairs covering my abdomen, lower, lower, stroking, almost, but touching the thicker growth of hair lower, fuck, he is, I look, I open my eyes, his fingers are threading through my pubic hair, still I control my reaction, still my exposed cock remains soft. Oh, oh fuck, I look, he is staring at what his fingers are doing, almost, still just almost, almost touching my dick, Trent is, now, oh, I feel his fingers stroke the soft tight length of my cock, touching the curled tip of my foreskin, bolts of pleasure shoot into me, I look, he looks, grazing the soft tender skin of my penis, lower, stroking the full stretched skin of my scrotum, thoughts are buried under layers of physical stimuli are pressed by pointillist details of transgression. Trent is touching my cock. He opens his hand, and holds it over the bulging warm flesh of my sex. He looks up, back up, to my face. His hand moves away. "What else? What do you want to do?" "I... I... I..." We are trapped in each other's gaze, I look to his mouth, his soft full lips, open, I can hear his breath, and I move closer, close, still not touching, neither of us touching now, I lean close to him, our shoulders, the bare cool skin of our shoulders touch with electric charges tripping into us, Trent is still, waiting, letting me move, I move, my mouth open, my lips apart, and I hear my own breath, my own throbbing swirl of rising, sweet, unbearable anxiety, I move, our eyes still locked together, but I look down, to his mouth, his parted lips, I can feel his breath now, cool sweet, I lean, and stop, less than a centimetre apart, I stop, the moment is what deathbeds are for, what poets and songwriters try to capture, I live and die in this moment, both of us naked, trembling with desire, denying, our lips so nearly together, his breath entering me, caressing me, I raise my eyes again, and meet his, his amazing eyes, those beautiful blue-green pools of light, and he moves, oh fuck, I let him, he moves the tiny distance that separates us, and touches his lips against mine, just that, our soft moist lips touch, and open, and part. He moves his head, I move forward, and open, and out tongues touch, my arousal bursts its banks, I remain in charge of my movements but my body has lost control, we kiss, fuck, Trent kisses me, my hand finds his arm, his shoulder, and I feel his slide along my side, up to my neck, over my back, still soft, still barely touching, as our lips stroke, as our tongues tease and tickle, he strokes the sensitive tip of my tongue with his, the underside, barely entering my mouth, we meet exactly where our lips touch, crossing, entering, retreating. The moment lasts, I want it to carry on forever, my hand drifts over his body, fuck, his naked body, his side, behind him, I hear his first moan as he feel my hand stroke the smooth skin of his bare ass, tracing the curve of his strong firm cheek, grazing a soft finger of his tight warm cleft, oh, his hand shifts, to my back, lower, to the up-slope of my own bare ass, I feel his tongue rubbing against mine as we stroke each other's behinds. Trent has to stop, to breathe. We lean back, still staring, still stroking each other. And we know, without looking, but we look, I look, I look down, slowly, wanting him to follow my gaze, I look at Trent's cock. He has become utterly, completely hard. I look at myself. My dick is achingly rigid. Both of our cocks are upright, vertical, sticking up between us, straining up from our tight full balls. Our arousal is immediately and brilliantly visible, unhidden by trousers, clothing, all we have done is kiss but our nakedness has made this more transgressive than ever, one kiss and I can see how hard Trent's cock has become, one simple caress and he can see the swollen rail of my own turgid organ. I push back, I want to see, I want him to know I want to see. I look at Trent's erect penis. Oh fuck he is large. Oh fuck. His foreskin stretches over his swollen tip, I can already see the tiny damp lips of his slit, which is, oh god, which rises up past his dark deep navel, I stare, Trent lets me, his cock looks huge, so fucking thick, so long, I know at once his dick is longer than mine, thicker, I think, I translate, god, at least two inches, oh fuck, Trent's hard cock strains upwards, I see him looking at me. At my own raging prick. Smaller, I know, I don't care, the sight of his larger thicker cock dick sends absurd tremors of pleasure in and out of me. Our kiss has broken all disguises, we are not clothed, we are not constricted by anything, a single kiss has left us blatantly and rigidly aroused. I cannot look away from his erect penis, his tight balls, the length of his stem, the wide bulge of his glans. "What else do you think about? Tell me?" "Oh Will, oh fuck, I want to... I want to touch you, oh fuck, can I? I want to touch your hard fucking cock, god, I want to touch another man, I want to touch another man's beautiful hard cock." "Touch me, fuck, touch my fucking cock, hold it, please, stroke my cock, oh fuck." We move, I lay back, Trent shifts to my side, he moves his hand over my stomach, down, drawn down, oh god, go on, I know he has not touched a man before, like this, touched another man's hard penis. And he does. I watch, I feel, I look as he opens his hand and closes it around the hot rigid stem of my cock. His touch is blissful, I feel dramatic pleasures start to expand deep within me, god, I force myself to exert some control, some, I look, he has curled his fingers around my hard shaft, is holding me, still, gently, feeling my soft skin, the hot core of my engorged penis. "Tell me what you're thinking, do you like this? Do you like holding another guy's erect penis?" "Oh fuck yes, god, it feels incredible, fuck, so hard, god you're so fucking hard, it feels so hot, fuck, so stiff, so different to touching myself, can I pull your foreskin back?" "Do you want to?" "God, yes, I want to see all of you, I want to see all of your beautiful hard cock." "Oh fuck, do it, please..." He does, I watch, he grips my thick stem a little harder, I feel myself pulse and throb, he is so slow, so tantalisingly slow, I can't tell if this is nervous hesitation or a deliberate tease, fuck, I look at Trent's hand, gripping the middle of my dick, and pulling down, slowly, I watch as he strokes my soft skin back along the rigid length of my shaft, and I watch him ease my foreskin back, fuck, over the tip of my aching cock, slow, but carrying on, he pulls, he eases my skin over the shiny smooth end of my stiff penis, more, the sensation is consuming the rest of my body, I hear his breathing, heavy, the knowledge of what he is doing causing a rise in his own physical pleasure, he strokes my cock and exposes my dark thick tip, I am slick with clear bubbling fluid, fuck, I have been oozing pre-cum for hours it seems, despite the shower, the swollen head of my cock is covered with sweet shiny liquid evidence of my arousal. "Oh god it looks so good, you're so wet, fuck, does this feel good?" "Fuck yes, fuck, please don't stop, fuck, do you like it?" "Yes, I have never been more turned on, oh fuck, can you... do you want to..." "What...?" I know what, I want him to say it, I want to hear him say it, to cross this next line. "Do you want to touch me?" "Touch you? Do you want me to?" "OH fuck, yes, please, touch me, god, I want you to touch my body, my cock, fuck, touch my hard cock, stroke my hard cock." We lean closer, I reach between us, trying to be as slow as he was, and hold his thick rigid cock. I hear him gasp with pleasure. "Oh, oh, oh fuck, oh fuck, stroke my cock, oh, please, oh fuck this is so fucking good, oh..." I grip his hard stem and pull his velvet soft skin back, over his dark fat tip, and expose this last part of him, I look, we are both still looking, he is gently stroking my own stiff prick as I ease his elastic foreskin over his shiny smooth oval glans, I stare, oh fuck he is as glisteningly damp as I am, coated in thick clear bubbly liquid, I rub his stem up and down, hearing him moan, his cock feels huge, god, the thickness stretches my fingers wider than I am used to, the length of him thrills me, sends tremors of desire into my belly, my groin, my full aching balls, I stroke his long stem, feeling all of the delicious tiny hard ridges and valleys running along the edge of his wide shaft, I hold his foreskin back, staring, still staring at his thick shiny cock head, the raised narrow mouth of his opening, another tear of pre-cum seeping out of him, I grip his large stem and run my fingers over the slippery smooth skin of his bulb, stroking around his super sensitive rim, underneath, the tender cord of his frenulum. "Oh Will, oh fuck, oh please don't stop, oh fuck this is so fucking good, oh fuck, I am fucking close already, oh, can you, I want you on top of me, please, I want to kiss you, kiss me, hard, as you stroke my hard fucking cock..." I move over him, my legs either side of his, if he is close I am already on the narrow precipice of vertiginous pleasure, I can already feel cum filling my long stem, I slide over Trent's smooth tight now sweat-moist body, and feel my chest against his, our stomachs touch, and I feel his long thick rigid dick touching mine, our hands still stroking and rubbing, he moves a free hand and I feel him grip my smooth bare ass and pull me closer to him, his fingers grope my butt, stroking, delving along my tight hot cleft. And we kiss again, I lower my lips to his and our tongues meet, with more force than before, more uncontrolled desire, I feel him devour my tongue, swirling, fighting, his lips open, pressing onto mine, our bare bodies sliding against each other, both of his hands now on my naked ass, my hand still between us, holding us, holding both of our raging rigid cocks together, oh fuck I am close, I can feel my orgasm rising, building, consuming every particle of my body, his hands are gripping my ass, pulling, fuck, he delves between my buttocks, running a firm finger along the soft damp tender skin of my anal crevice, I slide our bodies together, savouring each centimetre of sweet sweaty friction, his firm chest against mine, my hairier body gripping his smoother skin, his hands, I feel his finger exploring me, touching, then, fuck, he finds my tight secret spot and presses the tip of his forefinger onto the clenched wrinkle of my asshole, he pulls me harder on to him and I stroke our cocks lengthways along our stiff stems, gripping his thicker stem, feeling the long solid huge length of his young prick. "Will, fuck, please, oh my god, oh Will, this is so good, I am coming, oh, I want to see you come, oh, come over me, please, let me see you cover me in your hot fucking spunk." I draw myself up, our cocks still together, manage to grip both of us, feel both of our raging pricks at once, god, the relative size of us churns my belly, I grip my slimmer stem as I stroke Trent's thick stiff rod, his length still surprising me, the width of his stiff stem still shocking the memory of my fingers, our tight full balls touch, our tight sweaty scrotums press together, I rub us both, stroking our exposed slick tips and take us both over the edges of our arousal, into a freefall of eruptive pleasure, I look, Trent raises his head, his hand still on my ass, his finger pushing gently against my tight slick asshole, I feel my climax break, I hold my cock, my foreskin pulled back, my damp slippery tip clear, I watch the first thick creamy white stream of cum spurt from the tiny slit of my dick, splash upwards, long, fuck, as long and thick as I can remember. I come over him, on him, he watches as my orgasm issue from me, his finger still touching my tightening anus, my balls contracting as a second thicker, longer spurt of sweet spunk spasms from my pulsing cock and lands on Trent's chest, another, fuck my climax is huge, it convulses me, I moan and gasp with pleasure so extreme it is almost painful as three weeks of denial and edging spurt out of my stiff penis, I watch previously unseen amounts of cum spurt from my quaking dick as I rise on another wave of orgasm, as Trent stiffens, as his hands grip my ass harder, stroking and fingering my tight little ass, as I feel his cock swell in my hand, fuck, thicken even more, fuck, his huge stiff dick becomes utterly gloriously rigid between my fingers as he starts to join me in extremis, as he starts to come, fuck, oh god, he comes in huge long gouts of ribbony semen, spurting from deep within him. I stare with something close to wonder at his beautiful big cock, his long thick stiff spurting penis, as he comes and comes, both of us ejaculating with volume and force, up to his face, his neck, his chin, coating his smooth firm chest with warm rivulets of male spunk, I release our trembling dicks and stroke his damp chest, smearing and smudging our warm cum into his smooth fresh skin, bending to kiss him there, to lick his bare body, to taste the sweet salty cocktail of our semen, his sweat, his hot male flavours. My orgasm recedes. I sit up, looking at him, his heaving belly, his visibly trembling body, our cocks touching again, sliding gently, rubbing our bare oozing tips and stems together. I could look for hours, despite my having just come. I lay back down next to him, still uncovered, hot and shiny with sweat and spunk. We sleep a little. When I wake it feels like hours have passed, I expect to see my apartment, Ilsa, when I find myself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling I look immediately around. Down to myself, to my own naked body, then over, all within a couple of seconds, to see Trent next to me, still asleep, still uncovered, still naked. My breath leaves me before my eyes have a chance to clear. He has turned on to his front, I look at his bare back, the rippled muscles of his shoulders, the slope down to his coccyx, the full dune of his amazing ass, I stare again, wanting to touch him there, to lean, kiss his soft smooth skin, run my moist tongue over the firm round curve of his young butt, I want to invade his nude body, to cover him with mine, to feel myself harden against him, to open his tight buttocks and eat his tight little asshole. He stirs, and rolls over, his eyes opening as I look at his bare body, as he looks at me, looking, his firm chest, flat belly, the soft length of his cock. His foreskin has crept back over his glans, his scrotum has relaxed, I resist another urge to roll onto him, to drop my head and take his soft pouch in my mouth, to lick his stretched sac, pull one of his fat tender testicles in my mouth, to take all of his flaccid cock between my lips, to kiss his soft tip, feel him stiffen as I lick his thick organ. "What's the time?" "It's fine, we only slept for an hour or so. You okay?" "Sure." "Not... freaked out?" "Freaked out?" "Uh-huh. I mean, you just had sex with another guy, it might be... weird for you?"" He says nothing. He is on his side now, half on his side, with one long toned leg raised, his torso lifted up on his elbow. I glance at his cock, hanging low and heavy over his hip. His scrotum has already tightened in the chilled air, has drawn his large oval balls up closer to his body. I do more than glance, I am staring again, at Trent's beautiful nude body, his gorgeous dick, god. I have to be careful here, anyone can get carried away once, and regret it with some shame immediately afterwards. Even men who know they are gay can fight it at the beginning. What is he thinking now? That he needs to dress and get the fuck out of this strange kraut's hotel room? I raise my eyes back to his face, and notice Trent quickly looking up, from my own bare body, my own flat belly, and small, spent cock. I glance, I have retreated, my balls are enclosed in their tight round pouch, my soft little dick has withdrawn to its familiar bulb like shape, my foreskin wrinkled and protruding over my now tiny tip. But he is looking, he is not getting up. "Trent? You're okay? Do you want anything?" I glance, again, his dick has shrunk, his balls have tightened. "What do you want?" "I..." His mouth opens again, his eyes flick across my skin, oh god, he doesn't want to get up and leave does he, he wants to stay, does he? "Can we...?" He looks with deliberate intent and desire down my body, I feel his gaze, fuck, his eyes rove across my like so many tickling feathers, to my stomach, my exposed cock. I let him say it. "Can I get some water? Do you want some?" "Ya, yeah, water would be good." It would be. Is this was he wanted to say? We have some time. It would be too easy to push, to lead him there, it is more delectable, far more erotic to let him get there himself. Wherever that is. I watch him sit up, and get out of bed, and walk across the room to the small fridge. I watch him move, his tall naked body, his bare feet padding softly over the thick pile carpet, I stare, at his broad shoulders, the tapering lines of his waist, the round bulge of his firm smooth naked ass. He bends and rests on his calves, I can see the twin globes of his large balls hanging between his legs, the swinging seam of his stretched scrotum, the hint of dark hair sprouting from between his buttocks. He stands upright and turns back to face me, two clear plastic bottles of water in his hands, and I look, fuck I look, at that smooth strong chest, his flat ripped stomach, the thick bush of dark pubic hair, his thick round sac, I stare with undisguised desire, at the round shapes of his testicles, and the small soft length of his naked prick. Trent steps gently back to the bed, his slim little cock bobbling and dancing in the nest of his dense thicket of coarse hair surrounding his beautiful male sex. I accept one of the bottles, open it and take a long cold draught of water. Trent remains standing, drinking, letting me look, and looking. I am sitting up again, my legs crossed, my own penis soft and small, drawn both up and forward, my tight balls pushed up by my legs. We look. My orgasm already feels distant. I want more. I want to pull him onto me, push him down, open his strong naked male ass and kiss his tight hairy anus, I want to slide my tongue over his full firm butt and lick his tender little asshole. I stay where I am. Sipping water. Looking. Trent gets back into bed, sits up, then shifts down and lays on his side, I look at his penis drop sideways over his hip, exposing the full fat pouch of his balls. "Will you tell Ilsa about this?" "Uh, uh, I don't know, actually, I really don't." "What would she think if you did?" "She would, she'd be disappointed, she'd say I was predictable, another fag pretending to be straight."