Richard

Bound at the wrists, Richard was draped over a sawhorse in Dietrich's basement, much to the delight of several of his wide-eyed friends. The sexy, bearded German, whom the victim had met over the internet, was giving a small demostration of his leather skills to the appreciative gathering, who sat in abject silence as Dietrich began probing the prostrate man with an irrigation bulb. Richard winced as the hot liquid was injected into his anus, instantly clenching his sphincter closed, more by instinct than any presumption of instruction. "Now you vill hold it until I tell you zat you may use ze bucket," Dietrich gestured to a five gallon paint bucket in the corner. Richard grunted his acknowledgement, afraid to move. His bowels felt near to explosion. He waited until given the nod, then ran to the corner to evacuate his colon, arms, still tied behind him. He did this twice more, until the German was satisfied that the young man was clean, then resumed his place, face down, over the saw horse. Donning a pair of latex gloves, Dietrich spread the man's legs as wide as they would go, then opened his cheeks and began licking his bunghole. He circled the the tiny orifice gently, at first..smelling its still acrid scent...penetrating the sphincter and enjoying the tight squeeze on his tongue. His hand fell to Richard's genitalia -- his heavy sac.....his pythonesque organ..and he began to knead them, roughly....then withdraw..concentrating his efforts on deepening the drive on his tongue. Richard's breathing had become erratic.....gasping and moaning as he strained for further contact...... thrusting his cock against the ever-retreating German's hand. The tongue in his asshole was like something alive; hot and wet...slithering in and snaking up his rectum. The invasive, muscular organ darted in and out at a constant rate of speed, until it was replaced with a finger....then two fingers.....then three....until Richard's knees began to shake in anticipation. He heard the bubbled squirt of lube....the slick, squeaking sound of latex meeting and massaging it...and the deep intake of breath from the small group of onlookers as Dietrich curled his fingers. The big, bearded German worked his free hand between Richard's legs and gripped his cock, so that the deeper he stuffed his fist into Richard's asshole, the harder he jerked his dick. Richard came just as Dietrich's knuckles crowned, emptying his load in a puddle on the floor. "Now you vill suck me off," Dietrich removed his fist without so much as a warning. He doffed the gloves and lifted his captive's head with the tip of his finger, forcing his cock in his mouth. In his prone state, still resting his chest on the saw-horse, Richard sucked the immense organ like an animal, greedily slurping the meat down his throat. Dietrich pumped his mouth, holding his head up by the hair and stuffing him with cock. He jizzed in his throat with a grunt, then turned to the little audience. "Who's next?" he asked, smiling nastily...

Robert

Robert was a hard working man, he sweat for every dollar he earned. Carpentry was no easy business in South Texas, where temperatures rarely dropped below the 90’s and the humidity made life hell. But Robert always liked working with his hands, and even the blistering heat wasn’t enough for him to give up his work for an air-conditioned office. Robert’s latest project was building a deck, porch cover, carport and gazebo in a young woman’s backyard. Robert liked this client, she was sweet and always offered him something to drink making sure he didn’t end up with heat stroke. Most clients didn’t give a shit as long he built the thing level. Robert was finished with the frame of the deck and was getting ready to floor it and put the porch cover on. He’d pre-cut the planks the day before and was only left with nailing them down. Robert reached into his carpenter’s apron for nails and got busy, working his way from the house out. After about 30 minutes of hammering, Robert heard the glass door slide open and he knew he’d find his client standing over him with a pitcher of ice tea. Robert put down his hammer, wiped his brow with a bandana and looked up smiling. Robert was surprised to find a young man standing over him, holding the pitcher of ice tea. "Oh," Robert was startled, "I was expecting your wife." "Oh, Cindy? She’s not my wife," the man explained while pouring a tall glass of tea, "she’s my sister even though we look nothing alike." "Thanks," Robert accepted the glass of tea, "what do you think so far?" "It looks outstanding," he replied, "you do excellent work. But my God, how do you stand the heat?" "You just get used to it, learn to pace yourself." "Well, I’m unduly impressed, there’s no way I could stand this. By the way, I’m Pete." Pete extended his hand and Robert greeted it with a sweaty shake and his name. "Tell you what, Robert," Pete said, "I’ll prepare some lunch, and when you feel like you’ve hit a good time to break just come inside and we’ll have us some eats. Deal?" Pete had a winning smile, the kind no man could deny, so Robert agreed. Robert pressed on, nailing down 2x6 planks, his mind not entirely on his work. Robert wondered if Pete was just being friendly, a trait already displayed by his sister, or was this more? Robert tried not to assume anything, but it was a fact that most people didn’t invite working grunts inside for lunch. At the most, they brought food and drink outside to them. Don’t assume, Robert told himself, you still need to work in this town and one mistake might hurt you big time. Once he finished planking the deck, Robert sat back with his now warm glass of tea and lit a cigarette. He puffed on the smoke while admiring his work. Sweat dripped off his brow as he contemplated the best way to roof the porch. Pre-cut, or cut as I go, he thought, looking up at its frame. The door slid open once again and Pete stuck his head out. "Ready for some brisket?" he asked. "Sure, that sounds great," Robert said with a puff. "Well, c’mon inside." Robert crushed out his cigarette and stepped through the doors. On the table was a huge spread, as if it were a build your own sandwich bar at a deli. Sliced day old brisket sat on a plate, with warmed bbq sauce in a bowl next to it. Pete disappeared momentarily, then came back with a towel and a T-shirt. Pete tugged at Robert’s shirt, lifting it over his head, then handing Robert a towel. Pete then pulled the dry shirt over Robert’s head, and let his fingers trace Robert’s torso before the shirt covered him. It was a little small, but it was dry and Robert was still a little dazed about the events taking place. The men sat down across the table from each other and ate lunch. "Robert," Pete said between bites, "I have something to tell you." "Oh?" Robert tried to be non-chalant. "My sister told me all about you and that’s why I’m here." "Do you need work done?" Robert played dumb. "Actually, I do, but that’s a discussion for later. May I be blunt?" "Sure." "I want you to fuck me." Robert nearly choked on his sandwich. Pete went beyond blunt and the blood rushed to Robert’s face. Pete noticed. "Oh shit," Pete said, "You don’t fuck men, do you?" "Well," Robert tried to regain his composure, "it’s not that. It’s just I don’t get asked like that every day." "Oh, oh, good," Pete sighed with relief, "I thought maybe I’d misread you. So, how about it?" "Well, sure," Robert said, still thinking this was very peculiar. No seduction, no tip toeing, it was very rare for this part of the country, as people still feared being outed. "I need to explain a few things first," Pete said. "I’m married, so this only about sex." "Alright," Robert replied. Pete stood up from the table and motioned for Robert to follow him. Pete led him into a room Cindy used as a home gym. Pete stripped as if he were going to take a shower, and seemed perplexed that Robert didn’t immediately follow his lead. Eventually, Robert did. Pete positioned himself face down on the bench press mat, stomach flat to the board, dick dangling off the edge. He pulled his legs up around the outside of the bench, and curled his fingers around the far end. He stayed in that position silently as Robert finally pulled off his boots and jeans. Robert knelt down to rim the prone man’s muscular ass. He lapped at Pete’s ass, dipping his tongue in and out while stroking his own cock until it was hard. Pete never moved once, never made a sound, never gave Robert any inkling whether he was enjoying it or not. What the fuck, Robert thought, and he plowed his raging cock into the man’s backside. Pete gasped, squeezed his eyes shut and white knuckled the bench. Robert tore into him, fucking him like a whore. Robert’s legs surrounded Pete’s and he grabbed the bench around Pete’s head. With all the force he could muster he fucked Pete hard and long, slamming into him furiously. Robert could see Pete’s face, the man’s teeth were clenched and his forehead wrinkled. Robert couldn’t tell if Pete was enjoying it or not, but he figured Pete would speak up if he didn’t like it. So Robert continued to fuck the man. Pete never moved, never bucked, never twitched. At this point, Robert didn’t care, he was getting his rocks off and Pete’s demeanor only turned him on more. Robert had never fucked such a passive man before and he was discovering just how much he liked it. Robert continued to thrust his cock into Pete’s tight asshole, the squeeze on his meat felt incredible. Slamming deep hard thrusts, the sweat from Robert’s body now dripped onto Pete’s back. Robert felt his wad surge, and he reared back and slammed it home, right up Pete’s ass. Each forceful slam produced a thick burst into the bottom’s canal. Then Robert pulled out, he pressed his dick between his fingers and Pete’s back and shot the rest of his load on the man’s smooth skin. Humping Pete’s back, greedily extracting every drop, Robert watched himself roll off Pete’s back and onto the bench. Pete still didn’t move. When Robert was finally done, he lifted himself off of Pete and started to get dressed again. Finally Pete moved. Getting dressed, Pete looked at Robert as if nothing had happened, and in a businesslike manner he said, "I need an addition put onto my house, and I want you to be my man for the job." Robert knew he hadn’t seen the last of this man’s submissive hole, and he suddenly loved his job more than ever.

Shawn & Jer

Shawn and Jared had been together for 12 years now, and as in all relationships their sex life grew a tad boring. For their vacation this year, they decided to drive to Tahoe, rent a cabin and spent an intimate weekend together Shawn was the breadwinner, although he never lauded that over Jared and Jared always had free reign over their money. Afterall, Jared took care of all the everyday things Shawn hated to deal with. Shawn worked part time, and took care of the bills, the shopping, most often the cooking and the cleaning. It was a perfect match, especially since they had insane fun together almost always. Along the way, Jared asked Shawn what he thought about having a threesome. Shawn, somewhat conservative, had his reservations. Shawn didn’t persist, but he was determined to spice up their sex life one way or another. Once out of the city limits, traffic thinned out and Shawn put the car on cruise control. He leaned back, one hand on the wheel and told Jared how excited he’d been about this weekend. Jared ran his fingers through Shawn’s thick brown locks, and returned the sentiment. Jared caressed Shawn’s neck, and ears, leaning over a few times to run the tip of his tongue over the edge of Shawn’s ear. Shawn smiled and with an "mmmmmm" he reclined his bucket seat just a notch or two. Jared could see the bulge in Shawn’s pants, and he wanted to suck Shawn off but wasn't sure if Shawn would go for it. Jared slipped his hand down between Shawn’s legs and lightly massaged the quickly hardening package. Shawn’s eyes closed for a second and his legs flopped even wider as if he were inviting Shawn in for a taste. Unable to resist, Jared unzipped Shawn’s pants, and slipped his fingers in the hatch of Shawn’s briefs. After a few minutes of stroking Shawn’s hard cock, he pulled it and dropped his mouth over the erect shaft. Shawn’s legs instinctively jerked closed as he worried about who might see, or worse, crashing the car. But, Jared didn’t lift his mouth from his man’s tasty cock. No, he kept right on and after a while, Shawn relaxed. Jared felt Shawn’s fingers in his hair and his own dick started to throb. Jared took Shawn’s dick deep with each soft bob of his head, and Shawn’s hips started to thrust upward, searching for deeper throat. Jared obliged, but didn’t pick up the pace. It was a long drive, Jared thought, no need to rush this. The miles whizzed by and Shawn tried to stay alert, mainly for cops, but keeping his mind on the road became increasingly difficult. He did, however, manage to keep them in one lane while gently fucking the back of Jared’s throat. Occasionally, Jared would slip down to suck Shawn’s balls, his fingers dancing around the swollen cock. Shawn’s strong hand made his way down Jared’s back, under his shirt, caressing the smooth man’s skin. Shawn’s acceptance of Jared’s blowjob now gave him his own raging hard on. Jared mouthed Shawn’s shaft again, while unzipping his own pants just to give his cock some room to breathe. He worked Shawn’s dick slowly, never letting his man come, torturing Shawn with his adept tongue and mouth. Shawn slouched down in his seat, and unbuckled his belt. Jared followed his lead and slipped Shawn’s pants and briefs down off Shawn’s knees. Jared now played with Shawn’s balls, squeezing lightly, massaging them, still slowly sucking Shawn’s throbbing cock. Jared slipped a finger down between Shawn’s ass. Shawn slouched even more, until his butt hung off the edge of the seat. Jared fingered Shawn’s asshole, teasing the rim, circling it, pressing against it, then suddenly pushing the tip of his finger inside. Shawn’s eyes rolled a little and Jared continued to slowly suck him off. Shawn couldn’t believe it, this had to be the most incredible torture he’s felt since his teenage years. Jared continued to poke his fingertip in and out of Shawn’s hole, and kept his slow pace on Shawn’s cock steady. Shawn could feel it swelling, he knew he was ready to blow his load, but he didn’t want to. Not yet. With every wet slash of Jared’s tongue, Shawn felt himself getting closer and closer, yet he continued to fight it off. Jared wiggled his finger inside Shawn’s hole, then slipped it a little deeper, then wiggled it some more. Tongue and mouth still making Shawn’s dick ache. Still fighting it, Shawn knew his load was coming, and small spurts starting spraying the back of Jared’s throat. Jared didn’t relent, he continued on the same excruciatingly wonderful pace, and Shawn kept fighting it. Each wiggle of Jared’s finger producing another small spurt of spoo. Jared swallowed his man eagerly, but never picked up the pace. He made every second of Shawn’s orgasm pleasurable torture. Shawn’s knuckles grew white around the steering wheel as Jared worked him for every drop of his wad. The orgasm must have last ten minutes before Shawn cold spoo no more. His body fell back, his shoulders slumped, and his legs flopped wide. Only then did Jared stop. Only when he was certain he’d sucked every drop of his man. Jared sat up and kissed Shawn. Smiling, he whispered, "Happy vacation," then jerked himself off and fell asleep. Shawn didn’t pull his pants up until they had to stop for gas, some two hours later.

Stv & Ian

Ian had worked for Stephen going on 6 years now. He started as Stephen’s assistant when the business was brand new. Stephen was dedicated to his work, and spent nearly every waking moment cultivating it and now it was starting to pay dividends, but at a price. The company had grown fast and Stephen hadn’t prepared himself for the stresses. One afternoon Ian went into Stephen’s office for a routine daily report of messages, phone calls to be made, bills to be paid, etc. Ian found Stephen with his head back staring at the ceiling, looking overwhelmed. "I haven’t had a life in over 6 years," Stephen confided, "I feel like I’ve never left this desk, I haven’t had a date since high school, it seems." Ian, always there to pick up Stephen when he needed it, whirled him around in his high backed chair, leaned him on the desktop and massaged Stephen’s shoulders. Stephen fell asleep, yet his muscles were still tight and bunched up. Ian knew just the cure. Slipping under Stephen’s desk, Ian slowly unzipped Stephen’s pants. He knew he wouldn’t have to fish around for long, it was a well discussed rumor that Stephen was hung. Stephen never budged while Ian unleashed his dick. Ian sucked on the head of Stephen’s enormous cock until it started to get hard and the harder it got the more amazed Ian was by how big it really was. Stephen finally began to stir, though Ian wasn’t sure if he was fully awake yet. Ian continued to suck Stephen’s cock, taking it as deep in his throat as nature would allow. Slowly, Stephen’s hips began to force himself deeper down Ian, and deeper, then deeper. Ian massaged Stephen’s balls and relished in this now come to life fantasy. He’d always wanted to suck Stephen off, and now he was doing just that. Stephen was notably more relaxed as he started to slow fuck the back of Ian’s throat. The rhythm was perfect, the pace maddening for both men. Ian wanted to suck Stephen dry, wanted to swallow every drop of jiz Stephen could blow his way. But, he’d be patient, afterall he’d waited 6 years and who knew how much longer he’d have to wait before getting another taste? Stephen barely made a sound, but his movements spoke volumes. Ian knew Stephen was enjoying it, what little of Stephen’s body Ian could see was visibly more relaxed. Ian bobbed back slowly, then took the length of Stephen’s shaft hard and deep, and continued this for what seemed an eternity. Intermittently he’d tease the tip of Stephen’s throbbing dick with his tongue, then bury it deep down his throat once again. Then, he could taste it, the sweet juice he’d longed for. Stephen was getting ready to come. Ian squeezed Stephen’s balls gently, then tighter, and firmer. He wanted every last drop. He orally rode Stephen’s cock a little faster now, hungry for the full load. And a full load Ian did get. Stephen started spurting loads and loads of jism as Ian greedily sucked for more. Savoring every swallow Ian didn’t let one drop go to waste. Ian kept Stephen in his mouth until he was sure there was nothing left to take. Then, he gently put Stephen back together, zipping him up and slipping out from under the desk. Stephen was still asleep! Ian didn’t mind, he got what he wanted and quietly left Stephen to his slumber. About an hour later, Stephen buzzed him. "Better extend our daily meetings to two hours from now on," Stephen didn’t wait for a reply.

Ted

Ted insisted he was straight, but Alan said otherwise. Alan had a convincing argument, especially since Ted visited every evening after work and fucked him like a schoolboy. "You think a nellie boy can fuck you like this?" Ted said while fucking Alan over a coffee table. "No sir," was Alan’s usual reply. Ted had a weird gig going. It wasn’t a daddy fetish, and it wasn’t a discipline fetish in the usual sense of S&M. It was more like an obedient fetish. He liked to feel power over Alan, and since Alan liked being passive when it came to sex it was a perfect match. "Only you get fucked like this," Ted would hiss, "because you’re my personal fuckhole. Right?" "Yes sir." Ted would often mention how he never fucked his wife like he fucked Alan, and Alan figured it was true by virtue of Ted never fucking his wife anymore at all. Ted was gay, but he lived in denial and Alan didn’t mind the game. Alan got fucked every evening and never had any strings attached. What could be better? "Tell me how you like it," Ted barked, "tell me how you like me to stab my dick deep inside you." "You know how I like it, I like you to fuck me like an animal." And that, Ted did. He pressed his palms into Alan’s back between the shoulder blades, and mashed Alan’s face into the carpet beside the table. Ted squatted, straddling Alan’s raised ass and fucked Alan relentlessly. Deep slam after deep slam after deep slam. It was all about Ted and Ted getting off, it seemed as if he never cared about Alan’s needs. Luckily for Alan, this was what he liked. Ted rarely fucked Alan once then went home to his family. He took charge of Alan for the duration of his visit and violated him in any number of ways. He’d always start out fucking Alan, as a sort of warm up. Then he’d dismount and probe Alan’s asshole with whatever he felt like using that day. Today, Alan heard the slap of a latex glove, then felt Ted jab a few fingers up his ass. "Don’t fucking move," Ted told Alan, "because if it hurts, I’m not stopping." "Yes sir." Alan already knew the drill, it was more or less the same script, different props or positions each night. Alan stayed perfectly still while Ted violently probed his asshole, sticking in more fingers at will and shoving them deeper on whim. After a short while, Alan felt Ted’s knuckles pressing at his rim, he gritted his teeth knowing that Ted would just force his way in. And Ted did. Once Alan’s sphincter settled around Ted’s wrist, it felt quite good. Ted massaged Alan’s prostate gland, and watched Alan’s face for a reaction. Alan liked it, liked it a lot, but he didn’t dare show Ted. Alan’s face was stone. "You like that, don’t you?" "Yes, sir." The words were barely out of Alan’s mouth when Ted made a hard fist that sent a small jolt through Alan’s body. Ted unclenched, then clenched his fist inside Alan, then started to jerk himself off. Alan, as usual, stayed completely still. Ted twisted his hand inside Alan’s rectum, still making fists and jerking off. Alan knew Ted would come pretty quickly, as the rush of any experiment on Alan’s asshole sent a rush through Ted’s body almost instantly. Alan could feel Ted’s wad starting to splatter on his back, and roll slowly downward toward the back of his head, that was still pressed against the floor. "Okay, you can jerk yourself now." "Yes sir." Alan stroked his cock slowly, preparing for Ted’s removal of his fist. Ted twisted his hand inside Alan and pulled back until it finally slipped out. Ted peeled off the glove, dropped it on the floor, then got dressed. Alan remained prone, jerking himself. Ted grabbed his keys and left. Alan blew his wad. He knew he’d see his cousin again tomorrow night, and couldn’t wait.

Tim

Tim never regretted his life; he looked back on his youth with fondness but never once wished to go back. Sure, those were the glory days, the days of the bathhouses, multiple tricks, and hard-ons that lasted all night. But life was still good for Tim. He’d been successful in business, he was retired now, at age 52 and living on the beaches of Monterrey. He was over his tramping self and enjoying the fruits of his youth. Every afternoon, a group of 6 or 7 surfers would stop by for an hour or two of good waves. Most people along the beach chased the young men off, but Tim really didn’t mind them using his beach. Afterall, he thought, we’re all young once and far be it for him to ruin their fun. They were harmless, they didn’t dirty up his beach, and, well, let’s face it, they had fabulous bodies! Tim only occasionally went outside when the young men were out there, but mainly it was to enjoy the sun or to pick up trash floating in from the ocean. On other days, he’d bring a sand chair out and sit in the shallow surf to watch the adept surfers do their thing. Sure, Tim fantasized about the guys, but that was always as far as it went. He’d never entertained the thought of approaching the presumably straight boys, and really, even if they were gay, they were just too young for Tim. They were in their late teens or early twenties, and Tim could have been any one of their fathers. Nonetheless, Tim would sit in the surf, close his eyes and remember his own youth. The days when old men looked at his body and fantasized having a piece of his ass. Tim wore loose gym shorts; he liked the way the surf made his dick dance in the current. From one side, to the other and back again. It usually took about 15 minutes for him to get hard unless the water was painfully chilly. Today, the temperature was just right, so Tim sat back, watched the sun glisten off the young men’s bodies and smiled to himself. Eventually, Tim fell asleep in the warmth of the sun, dick still dangling out of his shorts. Tim started to dream, he dreamt that someone was sucking his cock. A young muscular man whose face Tim could not see was bobbing his head over Tim’s bulging dick. Tim shifted in his chair, slumping down a little, letting his legs flop to the sides. As all dreams go, this young man sucked dick like no man before him, Tim could even feel his temperature rise. Now half-asleep in somewhat of an orgasmic haze, Tim’s hips gently moved with the motion of the young man’s blowjob action. Tim’s load started to surge and in his dream he started to blow jism into the young man’s mouth. The man removed his mouth and jerked Tim’s spurting dick better than Tim ever did for himself! Every ounce of energy Tim had shot out of Tim’s pulsating cock and his head rolled gently to the side. Smiling, Tim lazily opened his eyes and was surprised to find his load floating in front of him. Sitting up now, Tim watched as a young man, surfboard under one arm slowly trotted away. No way, Tim thought. I’m just still asleep. Then the youth turned slightly and hollered over his shoulder, "Thanks for letting us use the beach!"

Troll

It’s different when you’re young; the whole idea of being a dreaded "troll" seems so foreign. Then, one day, you wake up and find that indeed, you are one of the dreaded trolls. Suddenly, a pity fuck doesn’t seem so bad. Last night, a pity fuck is just what I looked for, too. I really wasn’t fooled by these two young guys who were chatting me up. It was Monday night, the bars were empty, I had money, they wanted drinks, I wanted sex, they were young. We’ve all been on the young side before, so I knew precisely what I was getting into. I like to think the whole scenario is somewhat similar to the Ancient Greeks making men out of the boys, but even I’m not that delusional. It’s about money, and balling. Nothing more, nothing less. Who was I to buck to the system when I had a boxerload of spoo wanting to take a ride? Long story, short, I buy these two 20 something’s what seemed like an ungodly amount of liquor and bar snacks before they finally ask for "a ride home." On the drive home, they chatted like a pair of drunken schoolgirls, gossiping about this one’s hair and that one’s pierced nipple, and I wondered if these two knew their way around a back door well enough to make this worthwhile. To my delight, it was worthwhile. We got back to my place, and I did the obligatory drink offer and porn tape in the VCR, just to let them know what was going on. They needed no clues; they were on me like a pair of shoes. Within minutes, I found myself ass up, bent over the leather sofa with two pairs of hungry lips and hands all over my body. Granted, they weren’t big on foreplay, but I wasn’t looking for loving, I was looking to fuck and get fucked. One guy spread my ass open, jabbing his tongue in like an amateur, but I wasn’t about to complain…especially when the other one slipped around the sofa and stuffed his cock down my throat. I took his dick in my mouth, holding the base of his rod tight until I sucked the whiskey dick out of him and his cock stood alone. Then I got busy working the tip of his bulging cock and I could hear him moan with pleasure. I teased him for a while, pushing his hips back when he tried to make me deep throat him, and I could see he was enjoying this little game. Around back, his buddy poked around my asshole as if looking for loose change, so I finally told him to forget the finger play and fuck me already. His pants were off and his dick was buried within seconds. He fucked me fast, and fucked me hard, and he came nearly as fast as he shed his oversized jeans. I rolled my eyes as I got off the sofa and told the young man to sit in the Lazy-Boy and observe while I fucked his buddy properly. His eager friend got down on all fours, like an obedient slave, and I rimmed him for a while as I spread his hole open with my fingers. I wasn’t sure if he’d taken it in the ass before, so I wanted to be careful. He was drunk, but not so drunk I couldn’t potentially hurt him. I finger fucked him for a while, as his friend looked on, slowly stroking his own cock in search of another hard on. "Go get the Crisco out of my kitchen," I ordered, and he quickly jumped from the chair and returned with my order. I lubed the pink hole before me liberally, stuffing a few fingers deep inside, then pulling out, then in again. I stroked my cock, my very hard and wanting cock full of lube, then reached down to jerk the young man’s hard on. "Get under him and suck his dick." The young man immediately slipped beneath his friend and obliged. I pressed the tip of my throbbing dick into the glistening asshole presenting before me, going slowly in order to gauge a reaction. He bucked back into me and took my entire shaft, nearly knocking me back in the process. Oh yeah, I thought, I’m in. I rocked slowly against his ass, but this didn’t satisfy him. He started fucking my dick, and I stood firm in amazement. This kid was hungry and he’d do all the work if I let him. And I did let him, at least for a little while. He slapped his ass back against me furiously waiting for me to haul off and fuck him, but I waited. After teasing him for long enough, I placed the palm of my hand in the middle of his back and pushed him down to the floor. Then I fucked him. I closed my eyes and slammed my rod in and out as hard as my old body would allow. I grabbed his shoulders for leverage and fucked him as deep as I could. I could hear the young man moan and that got me even more excited, I could feel the surge and I knew I was going to come very soon. I pulled out at the last second and jerked my spoo onto his smooth back. Loads of pent up jism rolled off his back and onto the carpet, and when I was done I laid face down next to him. "Now that’s how you fuck a man proper," I breathed. As I lay there next to this young man I just fucked, I started feeling smug, as if I really weren’t a troll. I was only 37, I reasoned, and these guys will probably brag they had the best sex of their lives right here in my living room. I was fooling myself. Who was I kidding? I’ll be the one they gossip about when tomorrow night’s trick takes them home. Then I felt my ass peel open, and lube spread about my hole, I realized we weren’t done yet, and that I was about to get fucked proper by a pair of twinks. Oh yes, life was NOT over at 37, not by a long shot.