DISCLAIMER: This story contains depictions of gay sex.
Chance stowed his school materials back at his dorm, then headed for Tran's tailor shop. He stopped off at the dining hall to wolf down a quick bowl of whole wheat noodles and chicken teriyaki. He strode across campus still riding the crest of this incredible new wave in his life. He was a randy, well-built boy - had been for years - but now he was at play among a field of like-minded others, not shunted off, frustrated, wondering where the action was. His muscles felt full and pumped after a great workout, a good run, and lots of testosterone-rich sex; and his thick dick felt full, lusty, absolutely robust. Chance loved the sensation of that long thick dangler swaying sexily in his loose jeans. Noticing his reflection in a storefront window, he stopped and smiled, rubbing his hand across his new buzz-cut. Damn, that feels so fucking e-rotic, he laughed to himself. Bet Reed will dig it.
As he walked on, he couldn't help but notice the stares he got from cute young men and women. He caught all the boys' stares and held them with a sly grin. Fuck, did he ever love regular sex for the first time in his life. And not just sex, but intense, athletic, wonderfully nasty sex with such a great range of beautiful boys. The most satisfying sex he could imagine; sex that left his body wholly spent, drained, and absolutely buzzed. Soul-satisfying sex. Sex that was a heady blend of hard muscles, stiff cocks, tight holes, and thick cream. And there was no end in sight: he had a great, wonderfully intimate, totally loving base with Reed, which he knew would grow and deepen, plus license from his understanding lover to dabble on the side, to make up for all those years of frustrating celibacy. Damn, he thought, as his cock started swelling at the sight of a particularly hot young jock across the street, wearing sweatpants that made his ass look luscious as hell, he could go again right now. With his half-hard cock swaying in his jeans as he walked, and his mind humming with thoughts of boy-sex, Chance felt like a proud young stallion romping lustily through a meadow, ready to do stud-service to those so inclined.
Arriving at Tran's, he grew a little worried. The front window was covered by a kind of metallic-colored plastic shade that had been lowered inside, so he couldn't see in to tell if anyone was there. Was it closed? Had he got the time wrong? He tried the door, and to his great relief it opened. Mai was the only one working. She smiled when she saw Chance, then looked down demurely and walked over to a work table. Once there, she picked up two neatly folded items and brought them back to Chance.
"Try on," she said in that light, quiet voice of hers, motioning to the curtained-off changing area at the back of the store. She walked back there with Chance, waiting while he changed to see the results of her work. This for her was a labor of love. Chance had the kind of beautiful male body that Mai dreamed of: the All-American Boy. Even in Vietnam, years ago, she had seen enough videos and magazines and TV to become obsessed with the look. The walls of her bedroom had been lined with Calvin Klein ads cut out from magazines. She and her young girlfriends all learned the term "hunk" early on. And to have one finally - and not just one, but such an ideal - come in to be outfitted by her was miraculous. As she'd worked on the clothes earlier, Tou came in, kissing and hugging his sister gratefully for sending Chance his way. She giggled and thrilled as she cut and stitched to her brother's sexy account of Chance's trip to Tou's salon and the way they fooled around later. Thank God her father, working in the back of the shop, understood almost no English, so Tou could supply as many racy details as possible. Oh, she thought dreamily as she listened, to have such access to this beautiful boy's nude body! Tou was so lucky. When her brother left, and her father wasn't looking, she pressed her face into the crotch of Chance's jeans and breathed deeply, as her mind spun off the hottest reel of sex scenes she could imagine.
Behind the curtain, Chance quickly unbuttoned his jean jacket and stripped off the T he was wearing, anxious as hell to see how his new duds came out. He kicked off his work boots and shucked his dungarees. Then he unfolded the new pants and pulled them on. He could tell at once he loved them. The fit felt totally sensuous. They weren't tight so much as they were perfectly form-fitting, giving just right around his powerfully-built quads and calves, hugging them beautifully. And the waist! Holy fuck, Chance thought, looking in the wall mirror. In the front, the waist now came to about an eighth of an inch above the base of his cock. Chance smiled to see exposed there above the waist band, like a tease, the top inch or so of his closely-buzzed pubic patch. He couldn't take his eyes of the sight. Fuck, was it hot. He could just imagine himself lying back as Reed tongued down his chest, then came to the waist of his jeans, letting his sensuous tongue play over the light, sexy stubble of his freshly-groomed pubes, before unsnapping the jeans to get at his stiff, leaky prize. This radically lowered cut of his jeans' waistband also showed off his lean, ripped lower abs and carved hipbones perfectly, especially the start of that deep, sexy groove curving down over his quads. Chance was fucking stunned: He looked like some incredibly built, drop-dead-sexy male model, the kind of ultra-hot fantasy-fuck featured in those cool-ass gay magazines Reed borrowed him.
"Damn, dude, where the fuck you been all my life?" he laughed at his reflection in excited disbelief.
He turned so his butt was facing the mirror and then craned his neck around. Mai had made it so the waistband in back now exposed about the first half-inch of his ass-crack. It seemed to wink out, like a leering invitation for a hand or tongue to snake down there. That's just the message Chance wanted to convey: "C'mon dudes, let's fucking get it on!" Plus, she had somehow managed to re-do the back of his pants so they now lovingly curved along each hard, muscular globe of his ass, cupping them perfectly. It was like the denim had been molded to fit his ripe, sexy ass. All the hard work he'd put into carving those chiseled glutes was now obscenely evident. You could even make out those beautifully lean, scooped-out indentations along the side of each buttock. Damn, boy, Chance grinned, back that ass up!
He noticed Mai was now peeking through the slit in the curtain, smiling. When their eyes met, Mai looked questioningly, "Like you want?"
"Dang, Mai, it's uncanny! It's exactly like I wanted! You're amazing!"
Mai looked down and tittered a laugh, "Is gay sexy, I think, no?"
"'Gay sexy' definitely! My boyfriend is gonna bust a nut! Damn, Mai, I didn't think I could look this hot!"
Mai didn't know what to say. How could this gorgeous young boy - her dream-stud, and her brother's, as well - be unaware of his incredible beauty? Mai had had no trouble altering those clothes so perfectly this afternoon because the powerful image of this beautiful living statue had been burned in her brain. She'd made those clothes as a kind of hymn to his muscular perfection, a kind of offering to this young god of sexual beauty. She couldn't help herself staring wantonly at him now. She wanted to reach in and rip those jeans off him, suck his cock till it was rock hard, and have him ravish her over and over her on the shop-floor. But she said nothing, just drank in this wonderful bounty of pure eroticism.
After staring long enough at his ripped, naked torso shown off to perfection in those incredibly cut jeans, Chance unfolded the altered shirt and pulled that on. Also incredible, he knew at once. It hugged his body like there was stretch elastic in it. The neck had been scooped out a ways, and now dipped just low enough to show off his very sexy collar bones. The short sleeves were gone, showing off his hard, lickably bulging young biceps and triceps. She had not only taken off the sleeves, but she had cut away a little of the fabric under his arms. Chance raised his arms up to see the effect: not only were his nicely muscled ribs shown off, but his sexy, hairless, muscle-stud armpits were beautifully exposed in all their luscious glory. The shirt now pulled across his torso so tightly, you could see each deeply etched groove outlining the ripped slab of his washboard. The "COLT" lettering was now stretched out taut across his chest, so that his hard little nipples were boldly evident. You'd have to be dead to not want to reach out and tweak those nips, Chance thought. And the T now stopped right at his belly button, pulling tightly across his lower torso. As he moved in it, he thought excitedly, his lean, flat button will be sexily revealed. And with the raised shirt and lowered waist, his tapering abs would ripple in bold relief, a too-tempting lure for any young stud into some wild fucking boy-sex with another hot dude. These were a stud's working clothes, all right.
Mai was still staring, nodding, feeling almost faint with desire. "Look good. Look very good," she managed to stammer. She turned away shyly, "Very hot young guy look," she blurted out, heart racing. She had remembered to pull the sun-blind down in front before Chance came, so he could see they had privacy, in case, through some small miracle, he wanted to lay her frail but oh-so-willing body on a work table and feed her that glorious dick for the rest of the evening. If he asked her to be his sex-slave now, she would cry tears of gratitude: she was that overwhelmed with the intoxicating power of his lovingly-carved perfection. She half-hated her brother, knowing he was going to enjoy a steady diet now of sex with this young paragon.
"No kidding," Chance agreed, still in disbelief, as he gazed at himself. He always thought he'd looked pretty good before, but this was the first time he really saw himself as a truly prime-beef, hot fucking stud: the gorgeous physique, now so lusciously exposed in these amazingly sexy club clothes, combined with the hip macho haircut Tou had given him, and his cool boyish beard-stubble, all combined to transform him from just another jock boy-toy to a total mack-player. His clear-blue eyes, slightly sunken cheeks, and that pouty lower lip that looked like it was made for a hard, dripping cock, completed a picture Chance was seeing for the first time in his life. "Fucking sex machine," he mumbled to the mirror, smiling in utter amazement.
He now had the perfect iteration of the look he'd tried naively to capture for the past couple years - small, tight T's and low-hanging jeans. Reed had called his look - what was it, 'all-American classic'? - but no, Chance thought, that wasn't the right term for the look he was after; he'd always tried for a little sexier edge than that. If only he'da known it was a 'gay sexy' edge he was after! He laughed, realizing the cool look he'd been trying for for years was so much 'All-American Classic' as 'Gay Euro-Cowboy' (or whatever the hell you'd call the beefcake pin-up look he'd finally perfected). It was like this look had been hard-wired into his brain. Was there fashion DNA? Maybe, cause his sure had been struggling to come to the surface. And suddenly, here it was, done in a kind of funky, high-style perfection.
He glanced down to check out how his dick looked, and saw that Mai had done something to the crotch area, took it in or re-adjusted the pants seam or something, so now his long, thick cock was mouthwateringly outlined all down his thigh by the soft, worn denim. Damn, he loved the look these clothes gave him; it seemed to tell people here was a boy proud of how he looked, a strong, beautifully-developed, sensual boy, one who loved his body, one who loved all the pleasure this kind of body could both give and get, and one who could give as exquisitely as he got. These clothes perfectly advertised what he was: a proud young gay stud, big-balled, hard-dicked, and athletic enough to go all fuckin' night. Bring it on, dude - that's what his new style trumpeted in such ringing tones. Damn, Chance loved feeling sleek and sexy like this, like a big muscular cat. Reed, you are way losing this bet, you are so gonna be blowing me on the Sparta dance floor tonight, Chance laughed to himself.
He stepped out and beamed at Mai.
"I'd like to hug you, Mai, I'm so happy. Can I?"
She glowed a quick, flushed red at the question, and darted her eyes, needing to convince herself that her father really wasn't there. Hug me, she thought? Oh, fuck, Chance, you impossibly gorgeous creature, let me get down and worship your full, ripe boyish youth! Let me tongue-bathe your cock until the seed fills your balls to bursting. Then rip my clothes off, play roughly with my small hard breasts, and fuck my cunt and ass and mouth until I pass out. Shoot gallons of seed from that wonderfully long, thick cock I've been staring at; let me smear your wonderful cream over every inch of me, marking me as your gratefully conquered! She wanted to drown in the cum from that thick cock she saw outlined in his jeans. But she just nodded shyly to Chance.
He grabbed her in her arms, pressed her tight, and said, "You are a total genius, Mai! This is so cool!"
Mai, to herself, could only sob dry, quiet tears, wishing this big, heart-breakingly beautiful gaijin boy liked girls, too. Oh, for a night of pleasure with this gorgeous young hunk, that was the thought echoing so loud through her body she felt it might shake her apart. What heaven that would be, to press her thin, naked body next to his ripe, muscular power. She remembered the flush of excitement in Tou's voice as he recounted, in scintillating detail, all of what made Chance the best boy he'd ever had sex with. She could think of little else ever since. She and her girl-friends had rented "Troy" every weekend for the past month, squealing in orgasmic delight at the scenes of Brad Pitt naked. Oh, for this young Greek god in front of her to take her into his tent and make love to her all night! Tou had said his dick was enormous, and as she ogled that monster in his jeans now, she became weak-kneed.
To calm herself down, Mai picked up the jacket Chance had thrown on the floor.
"This jacket you wear tonight?"
"Yeah," Chance said. "It should look good, don'tya think? It's the same make, same fabric as the pants."
"Let see. Try on, OK?"
Chance put the jacket on, and Mai immediately made a face.
"Button," she frowned, as she walked in a circle around him.
Chance buttoned it. Even he could tell, as he buttoned it, it was wrong. It was too clunky and bulky now for the rest of his sleek new look.
"No good," she said, "not right. Don't wear, OK?"
Chance was crestfallen.
"Mai, what can do? It's a little too cool for just a T tonight. I gotta wear somethin'."
She looked at the big wall clock in the shop. "What time you need go?"
"I'm actually early. Not for about a half hour or so, I guess. Not sure how long it takes to get there. I was just gonna go put my other clothes back in my dorm and then grab a bus downtown."
It was like she was doing math in her head, before she finally answered, "OK. Leave other clothes here, yes? Pick up later. Downtown bus stop right at corner. We have time fix jacket."
She got busy with her pins and soap again, pulling Chance's jacket in, pinning here and there, measuring, marking off with the soap. Again Chance marveled at how fast her fingers flew. Like her brother's, he thought, as the warm, fresh memories seeped into his libido: Tou's long, thin fingers as they danced through his hair earlier that afternoon. Or, he remembered dreamily, as they'd played across his chest and abs and then toyed so wonderfully with his foreskin. Fuck, was that fine . . .
"Now, take off, please!" Mai said, snapping Chance out of his randy reverie.
He took off his jacket and handed it over to the girl. Quickly, she used a seam ripper to pull off collar, cuffs, and the strip of material bordering the waist. She cut a swatch away from the waist, a little off each arm, and scooped the neck out just a shade. Then she began cutting away at the trace marks she'd made with the soap chip, along the sides and the back.
She looked up and smiled, "This just be quick job. Come back later, I fix right."
Then she turned the jacket inside out and ran it a few different ways across a sewing machine. Chance was hypnotized watching her. Such a combination of speed and skill. She grabbed the strip that had previously been sewn on the waist, took heavy scissors and trimmed about half its thickness away, matched up seams, cut away a little extra off each end, then sewed it back on. She did the same with the cuffs and collar, trimming them sleeker, then re-attaching them. She looked at the clock; about twenty minutes had passed. She checked all the seams again, and brought the jacket back to Chance.
"Too fast, I think. Maybe not good. Try on."
Chance put it on, and again he could tell just by the feel it was perfect. Like the pants, it hugged every curve and ripple in his torso, giving his pecs enough room, then tapering down to hug his washboard. The length was great, it stopped now maybe three-quarters of an inch past his T-shirt bottom. His lean slab would be visible even with a jacket on. And the new narrow collar now caressed his collar bone sexily, falling open perfectly. Fuck, Chance said, eying himself in the mirror, you look like the Marlboro man's sexy young gay-stud brother.
"Good!" Mai smiled, surprising even herself.
Chance could barely take his eyes off his new duds.
"Dang, Mai, I wish everyone who saw this could know it was you that did this. You don't have anything with your logo on it or anything, do you? That you could sew on, so people would know who designed these incredible clothes?"
Mai's eyes widened. She had no labels, but she had indeed been thinking for a while about starting a custom clothing business out of her father's shop. There could be no better mannequin advertising her clothes than this dream-boy muscle-hunk.
"No, but could make quick, OK? You have time?" her smiling eyes pleaded.
"Sure!"
Excitedly, she took a few pieces of nice fabric. Then she quickly drew on each the logo she'd planned to use for her business: it was an "M" with an eyeball next to it, a rebus for her name. Then she threaded some white thread into a machine, and button-hole stitched perfectly around each one. As she sewed the 3 logo patches, a devilish idea occurred to her. She had to see her Achilles nude before he left, and she knew just how she could do it.
"OK," she barked, trying to sound as authoritative as her father, "quick, you give me clothes now! Hurry!"
Chance was a little confused. He started back towards the changing area.
"No time," Mai barked again, seemingly all-business. "Change here. No one here, no one see."
What the fuck, Chance thought. He was very comfortable naked; he preferred it actually, wearing his nudity like a beautiful outfit. He gave her the jacket back, then peeled off his shirt. Mai grew excited, trying to memorize that hunky physique, filing it away for future fantasies. His torso muscles rippled deliciously, and his lean abs sent a stab of lust through her, as she watched him fiddle with his work boots. Then he stood up and shucked off his new jeans. Mai couldn't help herself; she let out a gasp when Chance's long thick dick flopped into view. Chance either didn't hear or pretended not to, for he gave no notice of Mai's knee-jerk cry of lust, merely looked up, smiled, and handed the balled-up pants to her. Mai could only stare, soft cooing moans escaping from her, as she basked for precious moments in the beauty of her smooth, young god. Chance's cock was easily 3 times bigger than any of the young Asian boys Mai had already fooled around with. It made her light-headed to look at. The head barely poked out, covered so beautifully as it was by the skin from the shaft. And those two huge balls dangling low in their pink sack. None of the boys she'd known had ever had such a huge full ballsac like that. Tou had perfectly described, she saw now, how beautifully he'd groomed the pubic patch around Chance's cock. It was majestic, hanging full and proud at the center of all that muscular, erotic perfection. Finally, she forced her gaze away, smiled nervously, took the pants, and got to work.
One after the other, she placed, then sewed on the labels - a small tag on the back of his T, right beneath the neck; another small tab on the ass of his jeans, right below the waistband; and the large logo on the back of his jacket, right in the middle, above the waist. The entire job didn't take too long at all, but it's a wonder she was able to do it without balling up the fabric or cutting her fingers on the needle for her hands shook so badly with heart-racing lust. Chance, as soon as Mai took the garments, had placed one huge, beautifully muscled arm on the store counter, and hoisted up his gorgeous, rippling frame in one strong swoop, then landed on his butt, facing Mai, with his long, luscious legs hanging over the side of the counter. Then, with those long muscular arms, he gathered his knees up against his chest so he could settle in to watch Mai work. She smiled at him, but was utterly flustered, for his long thick dick dangled alluringly down between his legs, going way past the counter top. He smiled sweetly, and Mai got to work the best she could.
All through the sewing, she fantasized. She saw herself, naked and perfumed, in Chance's tent. The young god had decided to dally with this serving girl for a while, while he waited for his real lover, another beautiful boy like himself, to return. Timidly, she stroked her light fingers down the front of his chest, passing over one, then the other, of his hard pointy nipples. She spent some time tracing the beautiful curves in his abs, which brought a soft "Mmmmmmm," from the young warrior-god. She had to feel those big, beautiful arm muscles, and those thick, sinewy thighs. As she traced the cut ridges in those incredible thighs, she looked over and gasped again as she saw his huge cock, enormous to begin with, start to swell even bigger as it rose between his legs. She crouched closer, hypnotized now by this warrior's powerful young manhood. She brought one hand in to cup that achingly luscious, low-hanging ballsac, and with the other she brazenly stroked his huge dick, but gently, sensuously, even as lust coursed through her, so she could try to forestall a little the body-quaking orgasm she could feel starting to build in her.
"That pleases me, young girl, don't stop," the young warrior might softly sigh. "Such a soft, delicate touch you have."
She would move in even closer now, her reserve falling away. Now she would greedily finger that silky-smooth ball pouch. So big and ripe they were, like smooth, fist-sized river stones; they felt almost magical in her hand. The sacfull was far too big to fit in her one small hand, so she fingered first one, then the other. Her other hand was marveling in the amazing feel of that proud, uncut cock, sliding the loose flesh back and forth over the long, thick, veiny shaft. Sometimes she'd just trace the veins, mesmerized by the feel of them as they ran down the mighty shaft. Then she could stand it no longer: she brought her mouth down and lightly played her tongue all over this impossibly beautiful boy's majestic cock, holding the base in one hand, and luxuriating in the feel of her tongue and lips all over that long, thick shaft. With her other hand, she began to finger herself madly.
"That's lookin' great, Mai," Chance called out, snapping her out of her reverie. "It's so cool that now people'll see the logo and ask me where I got these great clothes!"
Mai smiled, but actually felt close to passing out from the wake of her fantasy-fueled lust throbbing through her. She kept sneaking peaks of that long, veiny shaft dangling over the counter, that incredible-almost wholly-hidden cock-head, and those huge low-hanging balls. It was almost as if she were a slave to their incredible power. No wonder Tou is gay, she thought. Who can resist this kind of male beauty and power? Achilles' true lover in the 'Troy' story, her friend Kou told her, was the beautiful boy Patroclus. But of course, Mai thought when she heard that. That's the kind of sex all hard, beautiful boys would want, pleasuring each other, enjoying each other's luscious masculine beauty. She wished she were a boy, so she could feel what it was like to have a beautiful, hard cock - or know what it felt like to have a boy's tight ass, eager to take an achingly stiff prick up into it. Eyes getting slightly misty, she finished the last logo and handed the clothes to Chance, who hopped off the counter.
"What do I owe you for the jacket, Mai?" Chance asked, as he pulled up his jeans.
Mai smiled and looked down. "I say, we even. Plus, you so nice to Tou, he tell me. Looking forward to seeing you tonight, he say."
Chance finished dressing quickly, gave her his old clothes, which she put in a bag and labeled, and, after a quick goodbye and a big smile, was out the door. Mai watched him leave, and began to rub herself slowly as she replayed the last few glorious minutes, having that gorgeous boy sitting naked in her store, about a foot away from her. She wouldn't share this with her girlfriends. Well, maybe not till tomorrow. Tonight it would be a secret memory she wanted to explore alone.
Chance waited on the corner about five minutes for a bus downtown to come. While he waited, a guy on a motorcycle drove by, slowed, stared, rode off, and then returned a few seconds later, obviously having circled the block, this time bringing his bike to a halt. The leather-clad biker got off, strode over to Chance, and removed his helmet. Even before he took it off, Chance could see this guy was a stud: leather riding chaps doing little to conceal thick, beefy quads, with a ridiculously bulging, jean-clad pouch sticking out. His motorcycle jacket was unzipped enough to show he had nothing on underneath, just salt-and-pepper fur covering a broad chest. When the helmet came off, Chance smiled approvingly: he was a very good-looking, buzz-cut, goateed thirty-something. The bits of gray flecking his goatee and chest hair Chance found sexy as hell. The biker extended a hand to Chance, and in a low, raspy voice said, "How ya doin,' stud? Rode by and wondered if you was maybe lookin' for a ride."
Chance saw the biker's eyes raking over his body.
"Could be, dude. I'm headin' downtown to one o' the gay clubs to meet my boyfriend." Chance wanted to get rid of any confusion right up front. "You goin' that way?"
"Downtown's exactly where I'm headin,' dude!" the biker gave a huge smile. "And I'm on MY way to one o' the gay clubs downtown, too! I'm meetin' some friends at Sparta, if you know where that is."
"No shit! Sparta's exactly where I'M headed, dude!" Chance smiled. "So, seriously, you cool with givin' me a lift?" he asked. "Name's Chance, by the way," he added, extending a hand the biker grabbed heartily.
"My tag's Derrick, Chance. Pleased to meet you, dude." Then Derrick started spitting a little more game. "Fuck," he said. giving Chance's gorgeous physique another once-over, "shoulda known the hottest-looking stud I seen in months was on his way to Sparta. That fuckin' club is like a gay porn star convention on the week-ends. Hell, yes, I'll give ya a ride. Sit yer ass back o' mine, and don't be at all shy about scootin' up real close to me to hold on. It's just us boys, right? And I drive kinda fast, so you prob'ly wanna hang on as tight as ya can."
He winked at Chance, unstrapped the extra helmet he had on his bike, and tossed it to the gorgeous youth. "Here, bro. Put this hat on."
Chance was utterly taken by how cool Derrick's muscular frame looked wrapped in leather and denim. He strapped the helmet secure, then hopped on the seat in back of Derrick. He took Derrick at his word and got immediately intimate with the stud biker, holding on to those muscular, leather-covered thighs so he could get a good purchase to nudge himself even further forward, nuzzling his hardening cock until it just touched up against the biker's ass. Mmmm, it felt great pressing gently against Derrick's meaty butt. Hooking up with a cool gay biker dude like Derrick had got his juices flowing immediately.
Derrick, who hadn't replaced his helmet yet, turned around and smiled at Chance. "That'a boy, Chance! That's the secret to riding double on a bike: you know you're on safely when the driver can feel a nice hard dick wedged way up in his ass-crack!" He winked again, then put his helmet on.
Chance didn't need a second invitation. Keeping one hand on Derrick's leather-clad torso, he brought the other down to the biker's crotch, so he could get a firm hold on that bulging package while he rammed his hips even further into Derrick's ass, pressing denim against denim as hard as he could, wriggling and squirming till his thick young dick fit snugly between the older man's cheeks. Derrick revved his engine, threw his head back, and they took off.
Wondering where he should put his hands, Chance figured 'what the fuck,' and slowly began to stroke Derrick's thick scrunched-up cock teasingly as they roared through the streets, all the while keeping his own rapidly hardening dick tight and straining against Derrick's ass. At one point, Derrick slowed for a light. He doffed his helmet, spun around, and smiled broadly.
"You're the first passenger I ever had knew ALL the safe-driving rules, Chance! You just keep that up and we'll be fine. And ya know, rubbin' my cock AND balls seems to make me concentrate on the road better!"
When the light changed, Derrick sped off. Chance kept one hand busy down in Derrick's wonderfully meaty crotch, sensuously rubbing the whole package; the other hand he brought up to massage the stud's pecs through his leather. After some sensual kneading, he unzipped the biker-stud's jacket a little and slipped his hand inside, so he could really tweak some tit. Chance grew instantly harder when he felt the steel ring through Derrick's nipple. Too cool, he thought! Leather and piercing! For Chance, that was pretty fucking hot, so he pulled and twisted and rubbed and tweaked that nipple and nipple ring for all he was worth, while getting more and more insistent down in Derrick's crotch.
For the rest of the ride Chance gave Derrick about the best hand-job and tit-play possible while balanced on the back of a Harley doing about fifty as it tooled through city streets. Chance laughed to think of what this ride was like: in those stroke books he'd borrowed from Reed, there were a lotta cool cartoons by this guy called 'Tom of Finland.' The cartoons were incredibly erotic; Chance had never seen anything like them and they'd gotten him really hard. Each one was sort of like the other, yet they were all very hot. They showed some total leather stud guy going through his daily life, and suddenly the situation would erupt into mind-bendingly raunchy sex. Like, for instance, the leather guy would be walking on the beach, and some young lifeguard in a very skimpy swimsuit, huge bulge showing, would walk by, and the leather guy would tease the lifeguard by pulling his swimsuit in the back, so his ass was exposed, and then reaching his hand down into that hard, round ass. Soon they were reaching into each other crotches, pulling out these really huge, hard, dripping cocks, and then they'd start sucking and fingering and fucking. Or the leather guy would be walking by a construction site, and soon he and some hot young construction worker would be 69'ing and fucking and fisting. Chance realized life was imitating art yet again: the leather guy riding on his bike picks up and hot young stud and soon they're fingering and stroking and shooting.
Derrick was pressing and wriggling his ass hard back into Chance's crotch, which was rubbing up and down in Derrick's crack. Soon he could feel Derrick's precum seep through his jeans. Fuck, he wished he could have a taste of this older guy's honey. The smell of Derrick's leather was an aphrodisiac to Chance, and the sensuous feel of it against his hard, exposed abs was wonderful. The air whipped around them, stirring their passions even higher. And the sound and reverberation of the engine became the loud, powerful hum of their lust. Chance rubbed his torso against Derrick's back, so he could feel the soft, cool jacket leather against his exposed abs as he ground his hips against Derrick's ass.
Derrick's cock was growing harder and longer. Chance had to grip and stroke that meaty shaft fully in his hand, so he undid Derrick's jeans and reached down into the waist band to fish out the older stud's cock. Mmmm, Chance thought, he's wearin' a jock, as his fingers felt the sticky, wet mesh straining over Derrick's cock. He rubbed that for a while, wishing he could suck the precum right through that mesh, and then he reached beneath the jock pouch and fished out Derrick's hard thick dick, which spronged straight up as it was released. He played his fingers over it greedily; it felt especially warm against the cool air blowing past them. Lovingly, he began stroking up and down on the biker's steely shaft. Derrick revved about ten MPH faster as Chance's fingers played on his cock like this. Damn, Chance thought, Derrick must be about nine inches hard, and fat as fuck. Chance could play with this kind of stud-cock all day. With one hand tickling his juicy balls, the other latched on to his big, cut cock-head. It was wonderfully wet from all the precum flowing out of that biker-daddy dick of his. He swirled his hand all over the head while his fingers dug around those hairy balls. Derrick revved the bike again, as if to say "AWWWW FUUCCKKK!!!" He grabbed Derrick's shaft with one hand, and then with his other he nosed a fingertip down into the piss-slit, digging out gooey precum, then trying to open that piss-slit as much as he could. Then he began to trace the sensitive ridge of the flared head, while his other hand went back to fingering Derrick's hefty ballsac as they sped on.
Derrick, meanwhile, was in gay biker heaven. He couldn't believe, minutes ago as he rode by, that someone as sexy-looking as this jean-clad young muscle-god even existed. He had to circle around to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Sure enough, it was a hard young stud, waiting for the bus, wearing the sexiest outfit he'd ever seen. He was dressed like a sexy male Britney Spears or something, just drop-dead, turn-on sexy. If Derrick'd been a cartoon character, his tongue woulda rolled down to the street and his eyes woulda bugged out. What a walking wet-dream this boy was. He'd gotten off his bike and nervously tried a clumsy, obvious pick-up line. When he found the boy was headed to the same gay club he was, he was dumb-founded. And to see how quickly the young stud picked up on his cornball attempt at some hot cycle-sex was incredible. Young dude must be about as big a horn-dog as he was. The feel of the youth's fingers now, playing so lewdly with his cock and balls - OH HELL YEAH!, one of his fingers was snaking down toward his hole!! - while that hard thick boy-cock dry-fucked his ass-crack was sheer bliss. Derrick decided to turn off and take the longer way to Sparta, going by way of the river, so Chance could finish him off.
Both men, young and old, were utterly turned on by the body-thrumming sound and vibration of the motorcycle reverberating against their sexed-up loins. Chance humped away as he worked his hands over Derrick's thick tool and dug a finger up into his hole. Chance realized the road they were riding on was utterly deserted, so he pushed up on Derrick's ass and slid his jeans and chaps down a little lower, which gave him more room to give the biker's big hairy balls a real going over. Plus, it would give him better access to this leather-stud's pucker. Derrick revved his engines again in joyous assent to Chance's intentions. He'd thought about pulling over, so they cold do this right, but this was just too damn sexy.
As soon as Chance's finger penetrated fully into Derrick's rosebud, those furry ass-cheeks clenched it tightly, and the bike's engine revved again. Derrick wriggled his ass excitedly down onto the long hard finger in him. He'd been amped all day today about getting fucked tonight in the leather room downstairs at Sparta; this was a sweet, unexpected prelude. Chance kept dry-humping the biker's ass and sped up the cock- and ball-play with one hand, while two fingers of his other hand now pleasured this leather daddy's hard ass. Derrick's amazingly talented ass was fucking his fingers like the talented bottom he was. Chance fed him a third, poking and wiggling and massaging and tickling. He felt Derrick's prostrate, so he applied a full-court press to the biker's love-nut, tickling and rubbing and teasing, while his two other fingers brushed around his love-chute. Mmmmm, Chance loved this. His own cock was painfully rock-hard as he kept up his zipless fuck of the hot biker's ass. He sped up his ball-play with the other hand and tickled Derrick to distraction. Suddenly Derrick took off. The motor whined loudly, and Chance wondered what the fuck was up: they must be going at least seventy along the deserted river highway, he realized. But then he knew what it meant. Simultaneously Chance felt Derrick's ass-cheeks squeeze his fingers in a vise-grip, as his other hand felt warm gobs of biker cum pump in thick waves out the man's cock and ooze creamily all over his fingers. Chance rubbed the cum all over Derrick's cock and balls and ass and thighs. He was pissed the helmet prevented him from licking his fingers clean.
By then, they had reached downtown. Derrick's bike snaked through a few streets until it pulled up at a fairly non-descript building. Chance could see the sign for Sparta, just as Reed described it, so he took his hands out of the biker's cum-drenched pants. Derrick pulled around to the side, found a space among about thirty other big, gleaming bikes, and they came to a halt. Chance hopped off, and Derrick, still a little weak-kneed, followed, doing up his pants as he went. They took their helmets off, and Derrick grabbed Chance's lean, exposed waist so he could kiss him roughly. His lips played across the youth's rough stubble, and his hand rubbed his sexy, sand-paper-gritty head.
"Dude, you're the sexiest young fucker I've ever had on that bike. Wish I coulda got you off, too. But I'll sure as fuck give ya a rain check: you ever want to stick that thick boy-meat o' yours up a hot biker stud's ass, you just let me know. I'm here at the club most every weekend." His eyes looked Chance up and down, fingers rubbing his sexy expanse of exposed abs. "Fuck, I'd lick your smooth hard body up and down all over for hours and then have you fuck my ass raw with that hard young cock o' yours."
"Thanks, dude. That was the best fuckin' ride. You're a hot-ass biker stud, Derrick. I'm really glad you picked me up. I'd love to hook up again with ya."
"Fuck, man. Anytime you wanna go ridin' again, just let me know. Derrick Frank, I'm in the book."
"'Derrick Frank.' OK, I got it."
"I sure as hell envy your boyfriend, Chance. What a lucky-ass sunovabitch!" Derrick was rubbing Chance's thick tool up and down in those sexy-ass jeans of his. He just didn't want to stop. His mouth was thick and moist with drool, and he could feel he was oozing a new load of precum out of his newly-hardened dick. With a real aching sadness, he cooed in the boy's ear: "Damn, would I love ta feel this hard young dick up my ass."
Chance realized this was the first time he'd had any sort of sex with someone as old as Derrick. He had to admit, it was pretty fuckin' hot. Derrick seemed seasoned as hell and probably had a lot he could teach him. 'Derrick Frank,' yeah, that was easy enough.
"Fuck, man," Chance said, after giving Derrick a hot, deep kiss, "sure wish we had time, bro, but I think I'm way late as it is. My boyfriend was supposed to be waitin' out front."
"Hey, man," Derrick perked up, smiling broadly again, as he gave the boy's beautifully big dick a final squeeze, "he don't show, you head downstairs to the Barracks. I'll be waitin' fer ya!"
They kissed goodbye, and then Chance walked on ahead while Derrick locked his bike.
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