Bonerboard

From: simon peter <[email protected]> Subject: I Love Jim and Jim Loves Me I Love Jim and Jim Loves Me By Simon Peter I was stunned. The look in his eyes was totally unexpected. This happened around two weeks ago in the middle of the corridor of the school which my two boys attend. I had just finished sitting in on a parent/teacher meeting and was crossing the corridor with my two boys when another parent, holding the hand of his little girl, stopped me to ask for directions to the PT meeting room. I was immediately struck by his handsomeness. I estimated him to be perhaps 3 or 4 years younger than me-I am 34. Before I could answer, my eyes travelled from his very handsome face down his body, lingering on the space exposed by the two open buttons of his shirt. My older boy was telling the man how to get to the place when my eyes returned to his face. It was then that I was stunned. It couldn't have taken more than 2-3 seconds for my glance to appreciate the man's body. Apart from the extremely sexy patch of hair just showing through the shirt opening, he stood tall and lean, with a nicely pronounced bulge in his faded, but dressy pair of jeans. Instead of looking down at my son as he explained to the man how to get to the meeting room, he was staring at me. Not just looking at me, but staring. He had clear blue eyes, large and widely set, and his stare told me volumes. I realized that he had noticed my glance down his body and my lingering look at his exposed chest. I guessed that my facial expression was like a book and he was reading it. I am a happily married man with two fantastic boys. But I am also inclined to appreciate other men as well. Since I got married, I had been totally faithful. I had wondered at times what it would be like to have a lover, especially a male lover, since he would be easier to conceal and since this would give me a chance to experience male sex, which I hadn't had much of as a bachelor. Having said all that, and whenever my wife was not with me, I allowed my eyes to do the lusting, more for other males than for females-forbidden sex, you might say. The guy noticed my lust. What stunned me was not that I had been caught but that the man returned my lustful stare. There was a whole volume of communication between us, just through the eyes. We stood, two meters apart, frozen in space, everything around us dissolving, except the two pairs of staring eyes. We were shamelessly making love to each other with our eyes, right there in the middle of a school hallway, our children standing by us. I felt as if he was on top of me, making love, and my whole body shuddered. We broke from each other's gaze with a sigh. The man thanked my boy for the directions, looked back at me with a smile-oh, not just a smile, but more like "Hey, dude, you are one hot guy and I think you like me, too" kind of unspoken statement. I walked out of the school on wobbly legs, dazed. There was a sidewalk café and I treated my boys to ice cream as I ordered a coffee and started reflecting on what had just happened in there. What had it been? The electricity was unmistakable. Very strong current. But how could that ever be possible? Surely the guy was married: he had a little girl with him. Certainly, I was married, too. My two boys attested to that strongly. So what had that all been about: two married men meeting in a school hallway? Making love to each other with their eyes? Or was all of that the product of my over-active imagination? No, it couldn't have been. His look was unmistakably clear. My gaze at his open-collared chest and his crotch was also very clear. Around 15 minutes later, my heart raced as the man walked out of the school gate and was approaching where we were sitting, a small table on the sidewalk. I hadn't finished my coffee yet. "Hi," he greeted us as he came near, with a smile on his face, and I melted at the beauty of his expression. The smile was more than casual friendly. There was interest in the eyes. Was there some lust, too, or was it all in my imagination? Or wishful thinking? "That was fast," I managed to say, slowly and tremblingly forcing myself to stand up and extend my hand. Taking my hand in a firm grip, he said, "Melanie here is a bright girl and her teachers didn't have much to say except to praise her." His other hand stroked the girl's hair. She was beaming and I could see the resemblance-definitely his daughter. "Would you like to join us for a celebratory ice cream for the lady and a coffee for her dad?" I heard myself saying, almost sure that the trembling of my voice was definitely noticeable. I was past caring by then. I was ready to do anything to keep him there, not to lose him, not to take my eyes off of him. I couldn't understand what was going on with me. This was a first. I had never been hooked to a stranger like this before, never ever. "Well?" he looked down at his daughter. "How about it Mel?" The girl nodded enthusiastically. He drew up two chairs from a nearby table and sat in the one next to me. We had to squeeze around the small table that we had. I motioned for the waiter and ordered the ice cream and coffee. Our knees touched. I almost fainted. What the fuck? What was I doing, acting like a love-struck teenage girl? I had no control over my body, especially when Jim did not pull his knee away, but rather pressed lightly against mine. Again, all my surroundings dissolved except for Jim. I felt the stirrings in my groin, the twitching of my ass muscle, the fluttering in my stomach. Inevitable. Uncontrollable. Unexplainable for a grown, adult, married man. The ice cream was consumed. The coffee was gone. Jim stood up. Oh, the exposed upper chest. Oh, the pronounced bulging crotch. "It's been nice meeting you, Oliver," he said with a dazzling smile. "I guess our kids are going to get along handsomely now that they have been introduced to each other over ice cream." "I guess so," I said, trying to return the smile, fully realizing that my lust for the guy was glowingly apparent. I even bulged inside my dress pants with a semi-erection. "Tell you what," Jim said, not letting go of my hand, "if you aren't doing anything special this evening, we could have a drink or something." He pressed slightly at the something. "Just the two of us," he added, and those few words were loaded with unspeakable meaning. Just the two of us? What about the spouses? The children? The two of us? Just? My God, if there ever was a come-on invitation for sex, this must have been it! "Yea, great," I responded, totally conscious of my hardening cock and my racing heart. I had just agreed to go out on a date with a man. Most probably a fuck, too! With a man. "Say, seven o'clock? Do you know Murphey's?" I nodded. "See you there, then," and he walked away. My hands were sweaty. My whole body was sweaty. I could even feel the sweat forming under my balls and between my ass cheeks. I watched his butt: firm, manly, perfectly fitting his faded designer jeans. Oh, my God. We slid into a booth at Murphey's with two glasses of red wine. There was no talk. His hand reached down and pressed on my thigh. I emitted a low moan. We sipped the wine, staring at each other. Jim was simply a beautiful person. Physically, he had no competition, as a man. But more than that: as I sipped the wine, I felt our two spirits mesh and combine. The chemistry was unbelievable. "I knew it," he whispered as he rubbed up and down the inside of my thigh under the table. "We're married," I couldn't help stating the obvious and I felt stupid for saying it. "And we lust for each other," he retorted, his hand cupping my crotch. The bar was dark and all this touching was hidden by the table in the booth. I was rock hard already and his hand massaged my erection erotically. Normally, I would have described what had been happening with Jim, especially the last few minutes, as unabashed vulgarity, as being too forward, as lacking class. Surprisingly, however, I felt that his hand fondling my cock inside my pants was exactly where it should be, that this was the most normal thing to happen. When I reflect, even now when I'm writing about it, I can't believe that I had gone along with it. I can't believe that I had let Jim grope my crotch in a public place, even though hidden by the table. At the time, I was way too excited, way too taken by this man that I had put aside all my inhibitions, my values, my set behaviors. "Jim," I had to bring some reason, some responsibility to all of this. We weren't two teenagers experimenting in a dark alleyway, for Pete's sake. We were two grown men, married with children. "Jim..." I repeated, but I had no more words to say. Words just fell short of the intensity of the moment. Uncontrollably, feeling the shuddering of my body at his rubbing my erection, my own hand slid to his crotch. He was hard. I could even feel the throbbing. And he felt big! I reveled at the sensations streaming through my body. "Let's get out of here," Jim whispered, squeezing my crotch. Get out of here? Where? Why? To fuck? Oh, my God. Although I lusted for him and I knew he lusted for me in return, although we were rubbing each other's cocks through our pants, the idea of having sex with a man hadn't seriously crossed my mind. What? Fucking? Wasn't this just a passing fling? I felt such a clutz. Of course, with all that had been happening, getting into bed with Jim was the most logical conclusion. I slid from behind the booth, hoping that my bulge wouldn't show. Jim was saying something about having left his daughter with his in-laws for the night since his wife was out of town on a business trip. Oh, man, I was going to have sex with this guy! I called home and explained that my meeting would go on for a couple of hours. I sometimes had to go to meetings in the evenings, so there wouldn't be any raised eyebrows when I got home, fucked and all. As if in a dream, we walked over to his place, entered the living room, and immediately started kissing. "Whoa," I gently pushed Jim back, taking in a deep breath. My hand burned at the touch of his chest skin, so sexy. "Jim, man, this is going so fast." "I'm not complaining," he said with an impish smile, placing his hand on my face cheek, caressing it, feeling my evening beard stubble, his middle finger following the outline of my lower lip. I bit on his finger playfully, and then started to suck on it, keeping my gaze glued to his face. He closed his eyes and pulled me towards him in a tight embrace. We kissed passionately. There was so much hunger in our connection, so much unreleased passion, so much lust. I felt dizzy. As we moved to the couch, we started to undress each other. When I saw him fully naked, my heart stopped. He was the most beautiful male specimen I had ever laid my eyes on. Lean, moderately hairy, with defined muscles, toned skin, and a cock to die for. Erecting at an upward angle, his cock revealed his fuzzy balls and reached up to his navel. Cut. Mushroom head. Thick shaft. Easily 8 inches. I wasn't to laugh at either, but I was nowhere near his godlike killer body. I went over his body with my lips, adoring his maleness, his masculinity, his firm and toned physique, his hard, throbbing marvel of a cock, his balls, his ass crack and butt cheeks, his thighs, legs, and feet. I felt like a whore, but it was such an intoxicating experience for me, and evidently such an erotic one for him, for he moaned and groaned with every lick of my tongue, every kiss of my lips, every fondling of my fingers, that I didn't stop until I was totally out of breath. Jim did the same to me. As he reached my throbbing cockhead, he mumbled, "You are so fucking beautiful, Oliver," before he wrapped his lips around my achingly throbbing tool. Me? Beautiful? My God. No one, not any one, had ever told me I was beautiful. His mouth slid down my cock shaft, wet, warm. My body burned. My moans came out load. I pushed his head down, aching for him to swallow me all the way to the base, and further, to take my whole body. "Yea, Jimmy, yes, my God, oh, yes, yes, suck my dick, oh God, yea, yes, oh, fuck yea," was all I could mutter as he gobbled on my cock. His sucking was in no way near to the couple of blowjobs I had experienced with my wife. Infrequently, she would "service" me, clearly showing her aversion, and that she was doing it just to please me. But what was so erotic about Jim's sucking was how he took pleasure in it, how he doted on my erection, how he moaned and swallowed and moved his head, how he looked up at me, his eyes wide, his mouth full, his lips stretched, his Adam's apple bobbing. I shot my load in buckets, deep down Jim's throat. He swallowed, never letting go of my cock, his finger already rubbing my hole. When he felt the first spurt hit the back of his mouth, he inserted his finger up my ass. This intensified my ejaculation. I had to stifle my screams. I had never cummed like this. And I felt like it went on forever, like my insides were violently being ejected through the silt of my cock. When finally my cock finished spewing juice into Jim's mouth, Jim held my balls with one hand, kept his finger inside my ass hole, and licked on my dripping cock, slopping the last drops of cum. I remained hard, surprisingly, and he stroked me gently, beads of sweat formed on his forehead and upper lip, his chin covered with thick, white semen. Holding his handsome face between my hands, I pulled him up onto me. I lay back against the back of the sofa, feeling the heat of his body, pressed on mine, and the wetness of his lips on my mouth. I tasted sperm, my sperm, and I couldn't help but suck greedily on his tongue as he pushed it between my lips, slimy, salty, and unbelievably erotic. His hardness rubbed on my crotch. I still felt my own erection, but now it was Jim's turn. We kissed, Jim on top of me, our bodies glued, our crotches grinding. My heart stopped when I felt Jim's hand raise one of my legs and his thick, hard cock slip under my balls. He started humping between my ass cheeks, the wetness of my sperm and his spit making the sliding up and down my crack easy. Suddenly, his cockhead was at my hole. Oh, Jesus. I was going to get fucked! "Hold on, Jim," I mumbled through our interlocking lips. He pressed on my hole, gazed deep into my eyes, and smiled. "What?" he mumbled back. I could feel his cockhead starting to stretch my rim muscle, the beginning of pain. "You can't fuck me, Jim," I protested. "You're too big." He pressed harder, "Oh, yeah?" God, that smile, those eyes. I was dying for him to fuck me, but the pain was increasing. I tried to relax. The cock knob felt huge. There was no way I would be able to take him in. With a forceful thrust, he forced his cockhead in and penetrated... and I screamed. "FUCK! Jim fuckfuckfuck, it hurts." He kissed me and eased on the pressure, keeping the head just inside my rim muscle. I tried to take deep breaths to ease the pain, but his kissing won't allow me. Slowly, ever so slowly, he slid into me. At first, the pain was unbearable. My first fuck! My virgin ass stretched for a man's cock! I wanted to beg for him to stop, to pull out, to forget about anal sex, but some strange thing inside me made me shut up and take it. The pain receded, slowly, and the fucking started. Jim was beautiful. I was on fire. My erection throbbed and bobbed between our bodies, in rhythm with his thrusts. In and out, fucking me, my legs now spread wide, his hands holding onto my ankles. I watched his stomach muscles ripple with his thrusting. The first beads of sweat started to form in the hair patch in the middle of his chest. Watching this super-masculine body on top of me sent me reeling with indescribable sensations streaming throughout my body. I raised myself on my elbows and bit his nipple. He grunted and pounded me deeper in response. His cock seemed to grow thicker inside me, even longer, pushing my insides up against my back. With every thrust, Jim groaned. He mumbled all kinds of things, but what I retained and got excited most about was how beautiful I was under him, how hot I made him, how fantastic my ass was for his fucking cock. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I watched him as he bent over me, reaching for my mouth. I felt his pounding increase in tempo and in thrust. He fucked me, his tongue deep into my mouth, until moments later he froze and emitted a scream, muffled by my mouth. I felt the hot cum hit my insides. I didn't actually feel the cum, but I felt his cock thicken with every spurt. Like me spewing in his mouth, he emptied his balls in my ass. Jim remained inside me as we kissed and as his cock flexed. I squeezed my rim muscle around his cock shaft a couple of times, feeling my balls shrink and my load ready to explode. His belly was rubbing on my cock and I cummed hard. My semen covered both our bellies and stomachs, gluing us further onto each other. Finally, Jim pulled out. I felt empty. We showered. My ass burnt. My cock remained hard. Amazing. After love-making sessions with my wife, my cock would immediately wilt. I would just turn over and go to sleep. Not with Jim. My erection never subsided. I wanted more, never to end. I fucked Jim in the shower. Using soap, turning him around, raising one of his legs, I entered him. He bucked against me, supporting himself with his hands aginst the porcelain wall. I drove up into him hard. It took some time for me to shoot: this was my third load. Three intense loads of cum within less than an hour. And I cummed as hard as the first time, filling Jim's ass, my cum seeping onto his thighs and down to the shower floor. I could say that I was spent. But I wasn't. This was a new world for me. My dick refused to settle. It went semi-hard but quickly back to full erection as soon as I touched Jim. My ass still hurt when I squeezed my rim muscle. Jim's cock was no joke and he drilled me hard. My cock burnt a little also. But this didn't affect my erection. During the following hour, I ejaculated twice more, once in Jim's mouth and once up Jim's ass. Jim met me one for one and wanted even more. We were insatiable. Later that night, in bed next to my wife, I felt guilty. Elated, but guilty. I wasn't really thinking that I had cheated on her. It wasn't another woman that I was having an affair with. With Jim, it was totally different. What I felt guilty about was the fact that I had enjoyed sex with Jim far more than any other sexual experience I had had. Was that normal? If I was experiencing it, then yes, why shouldn't it be normal? I drifted into deep sleep with the image of Jim's naked body on top of me, his lips on mine, his big dick filling me. Jim and I are lovers now. Needless to say, our relationship is a total secret. We both stand to lose a lot if it were known that we fucked. We value our married lives and our families, and it has been implicitly agreed between us that we wouldn't jeopardize what we have. We enjoy each other immensely. To the outside world, we are close friends. In bed, we are hot lovers. This may sound tacky to many. It would have sounded tacky to me as well before I met Jim, before I slept with Jim. Now, I can say this with a full mouth (pun intended): I love Jim and Jim loves me.

Braeden Wright, by Jon Malinowski

A casual shot of Dean with pals Nick Sandell and Dan Rockwell on location in San Juan, Puerto Rico, for a photoshoot. That’s another shoot I would’ve paid to be the wardrobe assistant for!

Attila Tóth

Jordan Ver Hoeve by Joseph Lally. I don’t know whether he’s trying to tell us to want him or asking us if we do. In either case, the answer is, “Yes!"

Jordan Ver Hoeve by Joseph Lally. (Do “horizontal twinks” count for this topic too?) I don’t know whether he’s trying to tell us to want him or asking us if we do. In either case, the answer is, “Yes!"

Cutie Mark Hill (left) with superstars Joe Reeve (center) and Lance (right) in a screen capture from the Colt Studios/Buckshot video “Good Times Keep on Coming.”

Bob Gerrity Dog's Best Friend: Woof Woof!

Alarm Suitcase

Andre Kjernsmo

Trevor Signorino

Jimmy Morris

Alam Wernick

Torsten Ullman & Marcel Gassion

Part Two (Two Years Later) My name is Manny Fuego. I own a six-unit apartment building in West Hollywood. I do all the repairs and maintenance myself, so the rents support me comfortably. None of the apartments are ever empty for more than a week. Most of the tenants are gay men, who find the location of the building to be ideal for them. I, myself, am gay. My partner, Clark, and I are madly in love. I know in my heart that will never change. We will always love each other. I sincerely believe that we are soulmates. Clark is a great actor, and he has become a movie idol. His good looks, and exceptional talent, have given him a meteoric rise in the film industry. The problem is that Clark believed that he must remain in the closet to preserve his career. I named off a string of famous actors, who were out and proud, but I couldn't change his mind. As a result, I never go anywhere with him. He has to make many public appearances, and I have to remain out of sight. He even attended The Academy Awards ceremony, with a beautiful young starlet on his arm. I watched on television as he was interviewed entering the theater, and my heart was broken. It got worse for me, when a famous actor walked The Red Carpet, with his husband. On the rare nights when he was home, we made love slowly and passionately. We assured each other how deeply we loved one another. Unfortunately, he was rarely home. There were times when he left me to do location shots outside of the L.A. area. Those times were particularly sad for me. I thought about visiting any of the number of gay bars in West Hollywood, but I couldn't bear the thought of cheating on Clark. I couldn't even imagine being intimate with anyone else. Did Clark cheat on me? God knows, he had plenty of opportunities. I asked him once, point blank, if he ever cheated on location. He started to cry. "Never, never," he said. "I love you too much." I wanted to believe him. Finally, I confronted him. "We can't go on like this," I said. He opened his mouth to speak, and I told him not to say anything until I was finished. He closed his mouth, and looked at me fearfully. "I don't know if you are aware or not, but you have completely shut me out of your life. I can't go on like this. I know that most of the parties and events you attend are obligatory, but there are many I could go with you, if you would come out of the closet. I'm afraid this is an ultimatum, Clark. I'm tired of sitting home alone almost every night of the week. One of my apartments is becoming available at the end of the month, and I'm going to move back. I should say, I'm going to move back home. It's not like we have a home together here." Clark stared at me. His eyes were disbelieving what I said. Suddenly he jumped up and tried to embrace me. He started to scream, "Please don't leave me. I'll die if you do. Stay! Give me time to work it out. I'll talk to my agent about it. He'll be able to advise me." "Why not just ask the press to attend our wedding." "No, I need time to think. I believe I should come out gradually; a hint, here and there; you going places with me. When the time is right, and someone asks me point blank, I'll come out." "How much time is time to work it out?" I asked snidely. "I don't know," he whimpered. "I promise it won't be long. Just don't leave me. Make love to me," Clark said, and he started to strip right in the living room. Even though it is difficult to live with Clark, I was easily seduced into an evening of impassioned love making. We both came more than once, in our mouths and in our asses. Every time one of us came, he yelled, "I love you." In the morning I was thinking rationally again. I laid down an ultimatum. "Clark," I said as sternly as I could. "I can afford to leave that apartment unrented for two months. There are two weeks left to this month. I'll give you until the end of this month and the following two, to decide what to do. If you make a decision, which is right for you, and wrong for me, I'll understand. I love you, and your happiness trumps all my other needs." Clark began to cry. He did not comment on my ultimatum, but he kept whimpering, "Please don't leave me." I could only wonder if he loved me enough to come out of the closet. Two days later he said to me, "I've decided on how to come out." I was flabbergasted. He hadn't even prefaced it by saying that he was coming out. He made it a fait accompli. I got excited. "Yes," I said too eagerly. "Tell me." "I've been invited to The Met Gala in New York. I want you to walk The Red Carpet with me. We'll wear matching tuxedos, and when the paparazzi ask me who you are, I'll say, `My fiancé...my future husband.' My current movie will be wrapped up by then, and I don't start the next one until after The Gala. I'm excited about it. It's not a romantic comedy. I'm going to be an action hero." He grinned broadly at me. I couldn't believe what he had just said. I was speechless, but I was more than able to hold him in my arms, and suck his tongue until it hurt. When The Gala was over, and the world learned that Clark Davis, the macho matinee idol, was gay and engaged to be married, his studio got the usual hate mail, but the vast majority of the mail was positive. Surprisingly, the paparazzi were the group most supportive. In gratitude, whenever they bombarded us, we gave them plenty of pictures, and even mugged for the camera. One of them was always sure to ask when we were getting married. We hadn't really talked about, but we figured it was time to set a date, and to decide how we were going to do it. The only family I had was a grandfather in Argentina, and he was too frail to make the trip. Clark informed me that his parents said they loved him, but they would never attend his same sex wedding, so we decided on a small reception with just a few good friends in attendance. I invited nobody, and Clark invited his agent. We honeymooned in Argentina, so I could show Clark the humble roots I had come from, and most importantly, I wanted him to meet my grandfather before it was too late. Even in Argentina, Clark was recognized, and more than a few fans asked for his autograph. I was so much happier now that Clark and I could go places together. We ate out a couple or three nights a week, and I attended other Red Carpet events with him. My greatest thrill was attending The Academy Awards with him, and walking The Red Carpet holding hands. Even though he was not nominated for anything, he was a presenter. Clark's career expanded when his agent convinced him to cut a music album. He had a spectacular voice which was not being exploited in his movies. The album was moderately successful, but it vastly increased his fan base. Everything changed in our lives, but one thing remained constant, our love. No matter how busy we both were, we always made time to make love with each other. Clark told me that his greatest pleasure was not his fame. It was when he was sucking my cock, or entertaining it up his ass. I told him that it was the same for me. One evening, after a very intense, and completely satisfying, love making session, Clark wondered out loud if anyone would have the guts to make a movie about the love affair and marriage of a gay couple. "I'd want to star in it," he said, and I wouldn't mind if you were my co-star." I broke out laughing. "I can't act," I said adamantly. "Don't worry. I'll teach you. Anyway, without acting, think how authentic our love scenes would be." After thinking about it for a moment I suggested that maybe we could produce the film ourselves with hidden cameras around the house. "That would be porn," Clark said. "But maybe, just maybe, we could make the film independently. Clark fell asleep that night with much to think about, and with a goal in mind. The film would probably never be made, but we had something to plan and ponder.

Add to the story! It can be a sentence, a phrase, or a whole chapter of fun. The story can go in any direction you want, so have fun and throw in as many twists and turns as you want! ========================================================== Click click. New notification. Click click. It was a late Tuesday night, and @wolfe was leaning lazily back on his bed. His readjusted his laptop on his legs while he browsed the latest pictures on AdonisMale. Damn, he thought, as he came across the latest set of images from @Steve in Bun, Buns, and Bunns: @wolfe moaned as he came down to the photo of the guy arched against the recliner chair, with his massive and engorged cock tucked downwards. Such hot pictures, he thought to himself, while he readjusted his laptop again. His boxers were getting constricted, and even though his windows were open to the cool air, his body temperature was getting heated. This was his usual routine for the past couple of nights, and tonight was no different. @wolfe knew he could always find some images to which he could jack off, and the latest set of images in Bun, Buns, and Bunns made him yearn for a nice ass to hold and fondle. His mind turned to the new guy Dorian in the local choir who joined only last week, a guy who definitely filled out his jeans during rehearsal. @wolfe didn't get to meet the the guy at all during rehearsal, since he was already singing with his practice group when he noticed Dorian hurriedly rush in and join the newest set of recruits in their own singing group. Click click. @wolfe's mind started to wander. Dorian was a cute guy, a lot younger and fresh out of college, but he had one of those ready-to-please grins always plastered on his face. Dorian had flashed a million-dollar smile at @wolfe during last week's rehearsal, but @wolfe didn't think too much of it since the kid was smiling at everyone. Goddamn he was cute. Click click. New personal message. @wolfe's mind immediately snapped back to attention. Hmm, he thought to himself, who would message me right now? ============================ It's your turn to add to the story!

Mac enjoys texting about the English weather with @wolfe, such a suitable topic for repressed Brits, But for some time there's nothing back from Wolfe - perhaps Wolfe had gone to sleep or was he doing some statistical analysis on the rainfall figures? (actually Wolfe had forgotten to press 'send' in his excitement). While he waits, Mac starts browsing through AdonisMale on his PC - so many gorgeous and hunky men, and as he flicks through the hot pics of Steve O'Donnell (the most gorgeous of them all??) Mac feels his uncut and swollen cock pulsing. He realises that he's already absent-mindedly pushed his shorts right down. He almost starts jacking off, but then, damm, he'd promised himself he would go to the gym today and there's only just time. He promises himself that he - and his cock - will enjoy the latest postings from Steve in "Jets of Cum" afterwards. With some difficulty he pulls his shorts up and manages to get his cock back inside them, and rushes off. The gym is not the best but it's cheap and so a lot of young guys use it. Mac enjoys the views and checking them out. Mac is not sporty at all but he enjoys the exercise and feeling fit. Mac starts a session on the rowing machine. it's a large hall and facing him are some skiing machines. Half-way through he's distracted by a young jock using one of these. The energetic jock is smoothly shaven and classically handsome with tanned arms and shoulders all shown off magnificently by his vest. He looks adorable and Mac finds that he's slowed down with the rowing, almost stopped, thinking about the nipples and six-pack under the vest, and how the guy moves so well. The jock notices Mac is smiling at him and smiles back - a full, happy smile, a smile to make you happy too . For a brief moment the jock takes his hands off the handles of the machine and runs his hands slowly down his thighs. It's late and a Sunday so the gym is almost empty. Mac finishes the rowing and goes to shower - at first he's the only one in the showers.. Mac is absent minded at the best of times and now his mind is a million miles away - grrr, it's Monday and there's work tomorrow, he thinks. So at first he doesn't notice the new arrival at the shower next to him until he's suddenly aware of the fine bare muscular ass close to him. Good enough for Bun, Buns, and Bunns. And yes, OMG, it's the jock and he's turned round and he's smiling - and yes, Mac can see how well hung he is and his chest is just as Mac imagined. I'm Stephen, says the guy, still smiling broadly as he looks down... right at Mac's now massive boner... and only now does Mac realise his cock is fully erect .... and they both laugh and... In his shorts in his locker in the changing room, Mac's phone buzzes with messages from back across the pond, but Mac is not there. "Mac you are not going to believe this,,," it says, "Dorian......."

I was right. The only person this could have been was @macnasty who was always in a horny mood for some hot sexting so he could blow off a load. Mac starts texting the hot things he's going to do to me and my cock grows rock hard pushing against my tight boxers. Damn, was that the fricken door bell? Hold on a sec Mac I say as I look through the peep hole. WTF it's Dorian what's he doing here?" I noticed you forgot some of your music so I asked someone where you lived so I could drop it off" he replied. I saw that his eyes were focused down to my shorts where my erect cock was now sticking out the slot.. Er am I interrupting anything? He said sheepishly as he saw the laptop in my hand. I was ,em, well you know, just em....." That's OK I get it "he says. Continue on with what you were doing" He pushes me back into the chair pulling my boxers down. Mac you are not going to believe this I text....

The difference between sex and love is that sex relieves tension and love causes it. - Woody Allen