The Alien Culture Project, part 14 by Rio Mack
DISCLAIMER: Contains depictions of gay sex.
After walking about 3 blocks, they reached the Riverbend Drive, a beautiful parkway that ran all along the river - it was the route Chance liked to run, cause you could get it a block from campus and do a very pretty five miles all the way to the harborfront and back to his dorm. But he'd never been this far down it before, in the industrial section fringing downtown. They walked up Riverbend for 2 more blocks, when Wyatt said, in that gruff, sexy voice of his, "Well, here we be. Come on around back; we use the freight elevator."
The building was a huge brick warehouse, old - it looked like it was built in the late 1940s. It had ancient-looking industrial windows all over; in fact, the sides of the warehouse looked more glass than brick. Chance and Reed followed their hosts' lead and hopped up on the loading dock. Wyatt opened a weathered steel door, and they entered a long, dark, musty corridor. "Elevator's right here," he said, opening the gate and then pulling the doors open. They all got in, and Wyatt pressed the button for 6, the top floor. "We have the penthouse," Jesse laughed. Chance could feel the deep, throbbing pulse of sexual desire running in a current through the group; it was manifest in lingering eyes, glowing faces, hands on shoulders or arms, chest brushing against chest (rubbing hard, aroused nipples), closeness.
As the old, grimy elevator slowly rose, Jesse told them what each floor was as its floor number went by through the lattice-work door: the first two were art galleries, the third a graphic design company, 4th was an oriental rug dealer, and the 5th was storage space for the rug merchant. At the top floor they all got out.
"Holy shit, this place is cool!" Chance burst out when Jesse hit the light switches. Indeed, the place was gorgeous. The floor was beautifully refinished pine plank; the soft, subtle glow of the lights showed off an impeccably decorated loft; and the two outer walls of the space, composed entirely of floor-to-ceiling windows, added unique charm. Chance went straight for the windows to check out the view from up on high.
"Damn, guys this is amazing! Great fucking view!" he said, staring down at all the car headlights and neon signs sparkling in the thick night.
"This is really a great place. You guys are very lucky," Reed said, appreciating the beautifully furnished space. Two very cushy-looking white leather sofas faced each other in the living area, and a couple of Eames chairs flanked them, with a big coffee table in the middle and a large flat-screen TV on the wall opposite. There was gorgeous artworks dotting the interior walls, mostly male nudes: several photos (Jesse's no doubt), a few pencil sketches, and a couple of large canvases (one, a photo-realist painting of a beautiful young twenty-something boy lounging in bed, his cock lying back flat and luscious-looking over his lower abs; the other was a quiet, serene landscape). Further back there was a very modern, restaurant-quality kitchen area, and next to it a huge antique pine harvest table, surrounded by ten old pine chairs. Soft, lambent lighting from recessed ceiling fixtures glowed intimately, to go with the cool mood of the place, and lovely objets d'art, vases of flowers, candles sticks, and other accents were sprinkled throughout.
"Glad you like it," Wyatt said in a low rasp, as he pushed a few buttons of a very expense-looking stereo, set on a long shelf-system filled with books, CDs, DVDs, and trinkets. Soft jazz piano drifted through the room from unseen speakers. "Jesse took care of the decorating. He did an amazing job."
"How did you find this place?" Reed asked, as Chance joined him, still rubber-necking the large, cool space.
"The building came up for sale 3 years ago," Wyatt explained, taking off his jacket and shirt, immediately riveting both his young guests' gazes. "I had some inheritance money, plus what I'd saved from 2 tours in the Marines. I put half down, and Jess took care of turning this top floor into a living space. The rent from the other tenants let us pay off the place a few months back. Turned out to be one of the better investments I made."
"No shit," Chance said, in a low, appreciative whisper, "it's the coolest space I've ever been in."
"Thanks, Chance," Jesse said, as he slipped off his own shirt, exposing a lean, nicely-developed torso. "It fits our needs perfectly. There's this big living, cooking, eating space, big enough for entertaining, then a hall runs to our bedroom at the other end. It's a great space, kind of a smaller version of this room, all-window on two sides, and since we're the last building, with only the river across from us, we don't even need drapes. It's pitch-black at night and there's gorgeous light in the morning. In the middle, off the hall, there's the bathroom and Wyatt's workout space on one side - again, one wall all windows - and my studio and darkroom on the other side. We'll show you around later. Right now, you boys make yourselves at home and we'll open some wine." He turned to Chance, adding, "And then we can do our photo shoot. After that," he said, shooting a knowing gaze to Wyatt, "we can relax. "
Jesse walked over to Reed and put an arm around him, giving him a few pecks while stroking him all over. "I'm really glad you guys came over," he whispered. "Come on, Reed, get comfortable." He started unbuttoning Reed's shirt, and Reed started undoing Jesse's pants. Their light pecks turned very passionate. Soon they were both nude and hugging closely, their hard dicks pressed up against each other.
This is so great, Chance thought. Guys together, intimate, so wonderfully casual and frank about a male's deep sexual needs. This is how he wanted to live, how he wanted to be with the boys he knew - enjoying each other's company to the absolute fullest, to the total limit of passionate physical intimacy; arousing each other, being aroused, and then gloriously consummating their longing. He started stripping, too.
"C'mon, Reed, I'll show you my studio, and we can get set up for Chance" Jesse said, breaking for air, both their heightened cocks rising beautifully. He cupped his delicate, sensuous hand around Reed's ass to lead him to the hall. Chance smiled as he watched those two perfect beauties walk away, dicks swinging and muscular asses shifting sexily as they walked, and Jesse's hand now stroking Reed all up and down his back, from ass-crack to shoulders. "Wyatt, love, open some wine, OK?" he called back to his boyfriend as the two disappeared down the hall. "This won't take long."
Chance turned to Wyatt, glad to see he, too, had shucked off all of his clothes except his jock, which looked incredible on him. What a fucking man, Chance thought, staring at that incredible body, that huge, beefy cock bulging out of the tight jock-pouch, alluring as hell. It was rare to see Wyatt this nude at wrestling practice, so Chance just slowly inhaled the sight.
Wyatt's muscles seemed more hardened than Chance's: definitely bigger, they also seemed tougher, more sinewy, more shredded. It was like all the fat had been worked out of his body, just straining, hard-packed muscle-fiber remained. His body hair was perfect: it lay close to his skin, swirling over his hard, flat pecs; fanning out when it got to his curved, ripped abs, sexily outlining that mouth-watering slab; then trailing down in a sexy line that disappeared into the waistband of his body-hugging jock. And then a beautiful dusting over his lower body, including a light coating on his ass that Chance wanted to lick all over. Fuck, did it look hot, the way that thin coat of man-fur beautifully accented the groves and curves of his incredibly ripped bulk, setting off each perfectly chiseled bulge.
"Be right back," Wyatt said gruffly, and Chance's eyes were glued to his rippled perfection as Wyatt turned and walked down the hall. He should have been a dancer, Chance thought; the way his muscular frame moves is riveting.
Alone in the loft, Chance was free to further survey the space. He grinned when he noticed that on the coffee table there in the living area, there was a big bowl of leather and metal and plastic cock rings (which Chance wouldn't have recognized a few days ago), along with tubes and bottles of lube, a couple of dildo's (which he'd learned about in the stroke-books Reed had borrowed him), and some items he couldn't figure out but which he was sure were for sex. There were a few DVD cases on the table, too, and the covers all showed gorgeous, naked men. On the shag carpet in that area of the loft, big floor pillows lay scattered all over.
Fuck, Chance thought excitedly, this place is an adult male playpen. Damn, Reed was right; he'd been a dope to think he'd have to nudge these guys into a 4-way: Reed and Wyatt ate, slept, and breathed hot sex, just like Chance was starting to. His dick got wonderfully hard as he thought about the pleasure they would all have tonight. Damn, is this ever cool, having good-looking friends who were into some serious fucking, guys like him who had finely-tuned bodies that begged to be put through their paces, taking a robust pleasure in each other's company, a pleasure that extends from warm regard and good conversation to licking, sucking, stroking, and fucking. It was Chance's young boy's dream: loving male camaraderie, thickly coated with cum.
Chance realized he was learning what it was like to be a full-blooded gay male. His mind drifted back to the scene of his dad's poker party. This is my version of that, he thought, his dick tingling now in anticipation. A man's need is deep, eternal: his research on the Greeks showed that, as well as those newly-emerging memories of his father; man's desire hasn't changed from generation to generation. The need for hot, satisfying athletic sex, with some like-minded, good-looking fuck buddies, is hard-wired in the male species; some guys look to girls to answer this need, and that's cool, but Chance knew the sex was far more satisfying with another guy, with one who fully comprehended, who literally embodied, the exact dimensions of male desire.
Chance's need, of course, was underscored with a sense of urgency, for he had so much wasted time to make up for, so he wanted to seize on any opportunity that came his way. He grinned sheepishly as he thought to himself: fuck if those opportunities ain't been comin' fast and furious since Reed helped me discover my true desire. Those big, randy balls of his pumped up lots of cream every day, and his goal was to drain out every drop. Somehow, he didn't think that would be a problem tonight.
Wyatt returned, holding something in his hand. As his gorgeous frame approached, Chance noticed that even Wyatt's feet were sexy as shit: big, veiny, solid, with perfect-shaped toes. Chance could just feel one of those feet rubbing his cock while he sucked on the toes of the other.
"Here," Wyatt said with an almost tender huskiness as he threw what he was holding to the naked young boy, "put this on. Those blonde little hotties of ours can prance around nude, dicks waggling, showing off to each other, but we studs should be dressed like men."
At first, Chance could just stare at Wyatt again, still in a bit of disbelief at this dreamy scene, this intense fantasy made flesh. He wanted to savor it, now that it was here. Wyatt was built big and beautiful, hard all over, like he was cut from stone in meticulous, loving detail. Gorgeously curved and densely packed, he was a study in cock, balls, muscle, and fur. He had the kind of ripe, muscular power you'd expect from a young stud Chance's age. But, Chance thought, Wyatt was in better shape than a twenty-something, cause there was a kind of seasoned quality about his hardness. This was a bronc who had spent a long time in the saddle. Next to Wyatt, Chance felt a little soft. But inspired, too, cause Chance figured this is what he would look like after several more years of intense workouts. What made Wyatt's musculature even more cock-stiffeningly beautiful was that sexy fur; it made him look like such a manly stud, Chance thought. Chance ogled that huge cock-stuffed pouch - damn, he looked big down there. Chance's ass tingled in boyish excitement at the thought of this hard, older jock-stud ramming away at him.
"Fuck, Wyatt, you're about the hottest-looking guy I've ever seen," he said quietly, knowing how thick his blood-engorged dick must look.
"Thanks, son, but you ain't too hard on the eyes yourself, y'know. Now put that on."
Chance tore his gaze away and saw that Wyatt had tossed him a jockstrap. He stepped into it and drew it up, carefully adjusting his stiff young prick in the small pouch. It fit perfectly, felt snug and well-used. It was a thin-waisted runner's jock. Wyatt himself wore a thick-banded one, more of a weight-lifter's jock. Chance considered himself a true connoisseur of jockstraps, and so he knew the code of Wyatt giving him such a skimpy one: it was to make sure Chance knew he was the young pup here, and Wyatt was the big dog. Chance's jock barely covered his young ripeness; Wyatt was wearing the kind of jock a real man wore to look sexy as shit. Wyatt seemed fully clothed when compared to the thin little nothing that Chance had on. Its skimpiness made him feel more exposed than if he'd been naked; he realized, from Wyatt's lip-licking leer, that his coach was dressing him for the part of sexy young beefcake. Chance understood that, of course; but he understood something else: how fucking hot he must look in this thin strap, how beautifully it would show off his full young prick, his gorgeous body.
He looked down at his basket: oh yeah, his long, thick dick was perfectly encased, very clearly outlined. He could feel his full young hardness, not just stiff from the sexiness of the scene, but also from knowing he was wearing one of Wyatt's old jocks, one that this dream-stud had hugging his dick quite often, by the well-worn feel of it. Chance was amped to think how hot he must look to Wyatt in this tight, revealing, body-hugging strap. Wyatt sidled up next to him and stroked Chance's chest with one hand and his huge bulging jock pouch with the other. He leaned close as he stroked, his voice barely able to contain his powerful lust for this gorgeous young hunk.
"I thought that one would fit you just right. Fuck, looks like it was made for you."
He stood in back of Chance now, his hard, straining thickness pressing desperately into the boy's eager ass-crack. He kept rubbing Chance's pecs and dick as he half-moaned, half-spoke, "Fuck, I ain't never been as turned by a young stud on my squad as I am by you. The other day - fuck, Chance, I couldn't keep from pressing my dick in your ass like this as you lifted, you looked so fucking fine."
"Shit, Wyatt, I wish you coulda just taken me right there, on the mat. Fuck, you are so fucking incredibly sexy, dude!"
The two studs fell into a kiss, Chance turning his head back to meet Wyatt's breathlessly hungry mouth. Their kiss was full of the hot, insistent passion of men who'd worked their bodies hard and now wanted to fuck them hard. Lips, tongues, hot panting breath, low sexy moans - all sent tingles through each other's massive bodies, strained each other's cocks in their now-moist jockstraps. Wyatt was stroking Chance's cock hard and firmly through the thin mesh.
"Mmmmm, I've been so anxious for that cock of yours, I want the pleasure of waiting for it a little longer, anticipating it like this, seeing it wrapped up nice like this, like a gift I've waited so long for. Fuck, Chance, I've beat off to fantasies of you so often this month I've lost count."
"Damn, Wyatt," Chance panted, as the older man played his young ripeness like a concert musician, "I want to take every inch of you inside me. I want to worship your stud-cock and your stud-jock's body. I want to get you off every way possible. Fuck, Wyatt, I ain't never had a real man before, and I'm hungry as hell for one." He reached behind and stroked Wyatt's impossibly bulging pouch.
They continued stroking each other's huge, steely-hard, muscle-stud meat. Their jock pouches were getting deliciously wet already, a prelude to the gushers they'd be shooting all night long.
"Fuck, son," Wyatt breathed lowly, voice trembling with lust, punctuating his confession of lust with soft, light kisses on Chance's lips, face, and neck, while his fingers kept playing over that delicious young ripeness, "I'm harder'n hell fer you. You got a real young stud's body, the kind that drives me wild. Best I've ever seen, son. I feel I could make love to you all night long. That OK with you, boy?"
"Aw fuck, Wyatt," Chance moaned deeply, stroking Wyatt's dick through his pouch, "you know that's just what I want, hot fucking sex with an incredible stud like you."
Wyatt smiled, then let Chance's dick go and kissed him deeply. He didn't want a quick fuck. No, not with this kid who he'd obsessed over all term. No, this would be a night to relish. You don't rush through a dinner at a four-star restaurant, and with Chance, there were a whole series of delicious courses ahead, and Wyatt intended to savor each luscious mouthful.
"How about a drink?" he asked, walking over to a shelf in the kitchen area with a built-in wine-rack.
Chance, too, was glad for the breather. He seemed to understand that this was how it was supposed to happen - flirting, courting, passion building, hovering, body worship, passions left to cool for a little so they could build up again, blazing even hotter and brighter, and only then the serious foreplay that would lead to ecstasy. This wouldn't be the quick, excitable fucking of the randy boys Chance had known up to now; no, this would be the slow, deep arousal and lusciously satisfying release of men - hard-bodied, soulful men, wholly consumed by the intensity of their mutual lust.
"Sure, Wyatt," he said, thrilling again to the sight of that perfect stud moving around the loft, tight muscles rippling so erotically, "I'd love a drink."
Wyatt's deep, sexy rasp called out to the rear of the loft.
"I'm openin' a bottle of wine! You boys want some?"
After a moment, Jesse called out, in a voice that sure sounded like he'd been caught in the middle of something, maybe even with something in his mouth, "Mmmm, uh, sure, lover! Be right there!"
Sure enough, a few minutes later, the two naked hunks came back, both with hard-ons only slightly fading, Reed's all wet and glistening, Jesse's dripping a thin trail of precum. Chance smiled, and then he and Wyatt both noticed the same thing at the same time: dotting Jesse's little soul-patch was a huge gob of cum. Damn, Chance laughed, fast fucking workers. Reed must have been dying to get off, testosterone level all amped from the club and this incredible after-party. Wyatt smirked as his thickly-roped arms easily pulled out the cork on a bottle of red wine.
"C'mere, lover," he said to Jesse, who went over and stepped into a hug from Wyatt's massive arms. They stroked each other's torso's sensuously, and then Wyatt pulled back, smiled, and gave his lover and very hot, hungry kiss, tongue lapping everywhere. After it was over, Jesse said breathlessly, "Whoa, what was that for, darlin'?"
"Just missed you, that's all," and he shot a sly wink to Chance, who smiled to see that the cum-dribble had been cleaned off by Wyatt's talented tongue.
"Well, it's damn nice to be missed, lover."
Chance drank his wine eagerly. It seemed utterly appropriate to the occasion, like they were Spartan generals, ready for a night of rough, gloriously satisfying debauchery in their tents, but first enjoying some wine to help further fan the flames their lust. As he drank, he realized it was wine the likes of which he'd never tasted: it was a red wine, but actually looked more purplish in color, tasting not of grapes but rather of blueberries, cinnamon, even violets. Chance realized that Wyatt and Jesse had a sophisticated life-style unknown to a simple farmboy like himself. But it was a male style of sensuous coolness he very much wanted to learn. He was rapidly developing a taste for a very particular kind of male life-style, a very hip gay savoir-faire. That was the true alien culture he was mastering now - the sex had come easily, naturally - and the trick was to build that culture onto the already solid grounding his family had given him, to burnish those country roots with a patina of sophistication. Reed was already helping him learn. And so, too, would Wyatt and Jesse, for something told Chance the two couples were going to become fast friends. He savored another sip of wine, letting its taste blossom in his mouth.
He looked up to see Wyatt staring at him, gazing at his body. Chance realized that just as Jesse and Reed wanted to parade nude in front of each other, he and Wyatt each wanted to show off their rugged jock-clad frames. Chance bet that his own body, that of a corn-fed young cowboy-jock, was as heady to Wyatt as his coach's thick, sinewy physique was to him. To have their two frisky blonde boyfriends romping and teasing around them made it seem like he and Wyatt were regal, lusty kings, showing off their power and strength to each other, while their sexy, nude consorts frolicked sensually.
Chance set his glass on the kitchen island and walked slowly around the walls of the living area, stopping to gaze at the art the two men had displayed. He was conscious of Wyatt eyeing his body's every move, so he made sure his muscles were rippling just right. As he studied one painting, he rubbed his long mesh-covered cock slowly, teasingly. At another artwork, one of Jesse's he bet, since it was an incredibly erotic photo of a perfect male torso, he reached behind and slowly rubbed his crack. Wyatt joined him, placing his own huge hand over his, so now there were two hands rubbing into his crack.
"Like that?" Wyatt asked in his soft, husky voice.
"You mean the photograph or that sexy hand rubbing my ass?"
"The photo," Wyatt said lowly, as he kissed and breathed hard in Chance's ear. "I know you like this," he added as his middle finger brushed Chance's hand aside and worked sexily around Chance's tight pucker.
"It's incredible. So fucking gorgeous. I could look at it all day."
"He's a poet, all right. Here, come see this one," and he led Chance over to another photo, this one of another gorgeous guy, lying back, full, ripe, uncut cock draped down across his leg, incredible abs seeming to bulge off the surface of the photo. His arms, one cocked behind his head, the other lying across his torso, playing with a nipple, were perfectly-muscled. Chance was stroking his own dick absent-mindedly as he stared in awe at the sheer homoerotic beauty. Wyatt stopped his ass play. Like a lusty satyr moving in on his young prey, he positioned his beautiful musculature directly behind Chance, as he had earlier, his hard, long jock-covered dick, straining against its mesh, pressed up tight into Chance's ass. He held the boy by his broad, firm shoulders and kissed the boy's neck with a mix of tender sweetness and mounting hunger. He brought his hands around to slowly massage the youth's perfect pecs and abs, while his hips started slowly gyrating his hard bulge around in Chance's ass.
"Damn, Wyatt, let's fuck now, dude! I can't fucking stand it anymore!"
"OK," Jesse called out, "Chance, I'm all set up for you. Come on in, and bring your jeans."
Chance gave out a low, frustrated moan. Wyatt, too, was more than a little pissed at having to pull up short, but he took a kind of pleasure in the sharp, pulsing throbs of his hard dick, the feel of thick sperm churning in his big ballsac, and in the knowledge that soon he would have the boy's body to do with as he wanted. Wyatt hadn't cum more than 5 times in a night for a couple years, but he was gonna test that limit tonight.
Jesse's studio was starker than the living area; it had the same nicely finished pine floors, but the outer wall here was exposed brick. He had a big camera with a hood on it set up. It was pointed towards a area illuminated by a couple of very bright photo-flood lamps. The floodlights were trained on an antique wood-scrolled couch set against a backdrop of rich purple velvet. Scattered around the studio were tables with all kinds of cameras and other equipment on them, plus a few bins off to the side. There was a closed-off portion that Chance guessed was Jesse's darkroom
"OK, Chance, slip the jeans on. We'll do a few with jacket and pants only, then I have a few other ideas."
"Should I leave my jock on?"
"Hmmm," Jesse thought. "OK, we'll do these first ones with the jock, but then I want a lot with that gorgeous dick of yours clearly outlined."
He dressed and sat on the couch. The three others had forgotten how hot Chance looked in those low-riding jeans.
"OK, you look great. Just mess around on the couch. Look sexy."
Jesse snapped a few, then said, "OK, now just the pants, no jock."
Chance quickly shucked off his pants and jock, then pulled just the pants back on. He got back on the couch. He tried lying back on it, playing with his nipples, then half off the couch, then sitting up on the back - in each pose he tried to look like he was ready to fuck (which wasn't hard, cause he really wanted to get this over and get back to Wyatt). He unsnapped the jeans and unzipped them a little, letting the root of his dick and his sexy shaved pubes show.
"Hot!" Jesse called, clicking away. "Fuck, Chance, you are so damn gorgeous.
As he thought about how to pose, Chance started thinking of his dad again. He thought his dad would be real proud of him for having toned his body to the point where men would find it erotic, desirable. "You wanna be out in front on most things, Chance," his dad told him so often. Well, here he was being photographed, his image to be used, maybe, for one of the months in an incredibly famous calendar of sexy men. Chance took that to mean that he could be considered one of the 12 sexiest men in America this year. Dang, that's about as far out in front as you can be. The thought filled him with an incredible sexy glow. He could feel himself more centered. He knelt on the couch and stared soulfully at the camera, imagining the guys who would buy it and get turned on seeing him.
"That's great, Chance! Perfect! Just move your body slightly, flex, ripple, keep that expression!"
Chance turned his head to the side, crooked one arm in back to expose his pit, put one hand in back to play with his crack. Each pose sexier than the last. Reed was totally in awe of his boyfriend as he watched. It looked to him like Chance was channeling the essence of gay sex. The naive college-jock expression, charming as it was, was gone. His look now as he posed was lust, passion, hunger, even a little arrogance. He was brooding, beautiful, romantic, smoldering. Reed, still naked, stroked his hardness unashamedly as he watched his sexy-ass lover play porn-star.
"OK, great," Jesse said. "I just want to try a few more with . . . what, I wonder," he asked, as he combed through the stuff in one of the bins. "C'mere, Chance. What do you think about this?" he asked as he held up a small, ripped wife-beater.
"That's pretty hot," Chance said, but his gaze fixed on something else in the box. "What's this?" he asked, as he pulled out some leather straps joined by a metal ring.
"Ooooh," Jesse smiled, "that's Wyatt's old chest harness, from his leather bar days. You like that? I hadn't thought of leather . . . " Jesse said in a mulling-over sort of voice.
"So you were a hot leather daddy?" Reed laughed, sidling up to Wyatt, letting his hard wet cock poke the man's jock-pouch, and stroking his hairy chest.
"Damn straight, you hot little twink fuck," Wyatt laughed, pulling Reed close to him and playing hard and sexy in his ass. With his jock-clad cock pressed firmly against Reed's dripping hardness, he kept up his deep-ass-play, and the two kissed hungrily. They both looked forward to what the night held in store.
Jesse showed Chance how to put on the harness.
"Fuck, you look hot! Good call, Chance! OK, back on the couch."
"Wait just a sec," Chance said excitedly. He couldn't believe it - this is the thing so many of the hot young studs at Sparta were wearing. "I gotta see how I look."
In the mirror, Chance saw his hard young firmness now accented by these thick, sensuous-feeling leather straps. Shit, did he look good. It was like his young jock body now had an aura of very hot, adult, sexy danger added, a thrilling edge. He unzipped his pants all the way, so his pubes, groin, more of his dick, and one of his sexy V-lines were fully exposed.
"I'm gonna use my digital camera, too, on this last set," Jesse said, as he grabbed it, adjust it, and held it in one hand.
"OK," he said. Chance hopped up on the couch, knelt on the seat, flexed his chest, and threw his head back, as if to say, "I don't know if y'all can handle this shit!"
"FUCK YES, Chance! Incredible! Feel your pecs, lick your lips! Now, close your eyes and rub your head!"
Chance did all that, then jumped up sexily on the couch, faced against the velvet, flexed his back muscles against the tight leather harness, then turned to the side. His jeans draped even lower, exposing more of his luscious ass-cleavage. This pose, especially, just reeked of homoeroticism: it was as if the moment right before the most incredible sex in your life, with this gorgeously sexy, wild-ass muscle-god, was frozen. The image was crammed full, oozing out, with the promise of total pleasure. Jesse took a few photos of it with each camera; he sense this would be the one.
"Oh fuck, are you hot, Chance! When I used to shoot porn, this was right around the time the guy would whip his dick out!"
Chance was in the zone; that's all he needed to hear. He pulled out his hard uncut beauty and started stroking. He worked a big gob of pre-cum out onto his middle finger and sexily licked it off. One hand worked his long shaft while the other sucked his finger deep into his mouth. Reed had grabbed Wyatt's dick out from beneath the precum-drenched jock pouch; the two of them began stroking each other off in deep, masculine awe.
"Fuck, dude, you ain't never told me you were a male stripper back home," Reed half-laughed, amazed at his lover's raw sexuality. He thought back, just a few days ago, to Chance's sexy strip-tease in his dorm-room. Shit, Reed thought, scratch Chance just a little and there's a sexy-ass cowboy-hustler ready to burst out. Damn, where does this side of him come from, Reed wondered.
Chance pulled his jeans lower and played with his ass. He spread his cheeks apart, looked back at the camera, licked his finger again, then worked it up into his ass. That smooth hard crack was a major turn-on for all three viewers. Jesse was almost pissed he had to keep taking photos, that he couldn't start jacking off to such a hot live sex show.
Chance lay back down on the couch and kicked his jeans off. With his head pressed back against the couch, he used his powerful leg muscles to raise up his lower body. His hard clenching ass looked magnificent as he sensuously stroked that long wet dick. He played a little with his foreskin, as if he were teasing the hundreds of eyes that might see these pics. Now he worked his big, floppy balls between his fingers, his face a drawn-up mask of hot boy-lust. He held his cock in one hand and worked down in his ass-crack with the fingers of his other, powerful calves and hips still holding his ass up. Fuck, it felt good, he thought, as he fingered with abandon, proud to show the others how he masturbated, totally buzzed on how they were getting off on it. He was close to shooting and - .
"STOP!" Wyatt yelled, brushing Reed's feverishly stroking hand aside, and tucking his cock back in his jock; it looked so fucking hot under the moist, almost see-through mesh, all hard and splayed-out against his tight lower abs. "Fuck, boy, I'll be cummin' in a minute, and so will you, and that seems an awful waste o' seed. You got enough pics, Jess, don't ya?"
Jess had caught his breath. Damn, he wanted the cumshot, but he knew Wyatt wanted it worse.
"Oh yeah, I'm fine. I'll print some of these in the morning, and we'll see how they turned out. I think I know which one I wanna use. Thanks, Chance. I'll give you a check when you leave. Let me say, dude, this was one of the hottest photo sessions I've ever had. Shit, they ain't been this raunchy in years, have they Wyatt?"
"Naw, but what'dya expect when you got a fine-ass stud wrestler to pose for ya? We're 'bout as raunchy as they come, ain't we, Chance?"
Chance was standing up, working the harness off, his cock still twitching and dripping.
"You got that right, Wyatt. Dang, I could use another drink, I reckon."
They went back to the living area. Jesse and Reed sat next to each other on the sofa, kissing and whispering lowly to each other. Each had the other's cock in his hand. Wyatt was filling his and Chance's wine glasses for one more drink before the sex started.
Chance grabbed a seat on one of the other couches and motioned for Wyatt to join him. Wyatt set down the two glasses of wine and put his arm around his young wrestler. Chance sank back into the couch and rubbed his hand up and down Wyatt's massive, lightly furred thigh, stroking the older man's hard bulge every now and then. He sighed in contentment: he was ready for a hard, raunchy fucking from this sexy-ass stud.
"Wyatt, put a movie on, would you?" Jesse asked, voice thick with lust. He wanted to sit on the couch and make out with Reed to some hot porn flick. He wanted to feel that beautiful tan, torpedo-shaped uncut cock of Reed's ramming deep in his ass. All he could think of as he'd sucked Reed off earlier was how good that thick, hard, uncut beauty would feel plowing his hole.
"Sure," said Wyatt. He turned on whatever disk was in the player, and then asked Chance if he wanted to see his home gym. It was time for the muscle-studs to leave these hotties to their sex-play; it was time to show this delicious young stud what real man-sex was all about; it was time for some very hot fucking.
He led Chance down the hall and into his workout space, cupping his ass greedily, letting his fingers roughly play up and down the crack he would own in a few minutes. He flipped on the lights.
"Nice," Chance commented, enjoying the sensation of those rough, manly fingers claiming his ass.
Wyatt had a great room; the far wall was all windows, like the front area of the loft. There were mats almost everywhere. The equipment was minimal; it belonged to a man who really knew how to work his body: there was a rack of weight plates, some barbells and dumb bells, a pull-up bar hanging from the high ceiling, a big wooden cube that Chance knew was for calf raises, and a couple of benches - one standard, one inclined. It was exactly the kind of set-up Chance would have chosen: no machines, some basic weights, and a bar to do chin-ups, pull-ups, and hanging crunches. Wyatt must think like Chance, who got the best pump when he was working against his own body weight in exercises like pull-ups, push-ups, and crunches.
Chance jumped up and grabbed hold of the chin-up bar, his perfectly toned body knocking out a set of forty-some chin-ups before he exhausted his muscles. He hopped down and flexed his muscles. Wyatt smiled, loving the show made by Chance's bulging, sweat-sheened muscles, and that mouth-watering, semi-hard, uncut cock bouncing up and down. He hopped up and cranked out forty with no sweat, then ten more one-handed, then flipping his grip mid-air to pull-up mode, he managed about thirty more. Chance was totally turned on as he watched the older stud work that disciplined body up and down, upper arms pumping in pure athletic abandon, abs bulging in lean, rippling beauty, and that jock-pouch just a slick wet cover to an achingly beautiful cock. Chance's dick was totally stiff, jutting, and dripping now; his lust-worship was unmistakable.
Wyatt hopped off, came over to Chance, and the two stood facing each other, getting a good look at the perfect body each lusted after. Wyatt stepped forward, stretched his massive arms slowly, rested his arms on Chance's shoulders, and the boy stepped into the enveloping embrace. Chance's thick young cock jutted up in proud, masculine glory, but in a moment his sex was pressed hard against Wyatt's groin, their full balls pressed tightly together. Chance placed his arms on Wyatt's shoulders.
They slowly ground their cocks and ballsacs against each other's, Wyatt's still encased in his wet, straining jock. Gripping each other's shoulders, grinding wonderfully away at each other's groins, they each leaned back to drink in the other's beautiful body - arms, chests, abs, thighs. Both were so beautifully worked, it was like looking into a mirror, except one was young and smooth, the other was older, with the drenched, musky fur of a bear-stud.
The two embraced in the heat of unbridled lust. While their tongues hungrily explored each other's mouths, one of Wyatt's big hairy paws played teasingly with Chance's hard, drippy cock.
"Lie down, boy," Wyatt croaked huskily. "Let me look at you."
Chance lay back on the mat. His hard cock - so much longer and thicker than most boys' - twitched in ecstasy. The gorgeous fullness of his musculature was a gift to Wyatt, offered to do with as he pleased. Wyatt knelt next to his young wrestler, staring at the exquisite perfection he'd dreamt about all term, and let his rough hands trace gently over each gorgeous curve. Christ, he loved big-muscled boys with long, full dicks.
"Fuck, you are beautiful," he said in his low, lust-coated rasp. His own cock was painfully, awkwardly encased in his jock, but he wanted to slow down and gain firm control of this first fuck. He idly traced Chance's ripe bulges over and over, trying to get his own breathing and passion under control.
"This is gonna be so fuckin' nice," he cooed hoarsely, as Chance groaned in a kind of taut ecstasy. Chance brought his own hands up to play tenderly against the fur-covered glory of Wyatt's gorgeous physique. The two cooled their passion a little as they glided over each other's hard curves and ripples. Wyatt bent in to give surprisingly tender kisses to Chance's body, while his fingers continued to trace their lust-pattern. The young boy lay back and thrilled to Wyatt's gently rough teasing.
Wyatt began concentrating on Chance's dick, playing with it, marveling at its size and girth. He leaned in and played with the foreskin, the way he liked his own played with. He stretched it, nipped at it, tongued under it, jerked it slowly back and forth. Each glistening dollop of precum that formed on the tip was licked tenderly away by the older stud. He lightly fingered the boy's smooth ballsac with his big, strong fingers; it felt to Wyatt like a soft velvet pouch given to some hero in a fairy tale, holding precious, magical gems. His tongue played over that sac with excruciatingly slow tenderness, then he gently took first one, then the other in his mouth, savoring them, laving each ball sensuously, teasingly. Wyatt's tongue was like a sophisticated pleasure-instrument to Chance, who was almost wholly swept away in this soft rush of ecstasy: it was sending tingles through him that were the most exquisite sensations he'd ever felt. The older stud's tongue played everywhere over Chance's smooth, ripe ballsac, then snaked lower, painting his perineum with the thick moistness of mature lust. Even further he went, down the smooth path to Chance's tight pucker, teasing it just a bit with the promise of the full-bore pleasure to come.
Wyatt had kept it slow and gentle; his dick had grown soft and plump from the quiet rhythm of that sensuous genital-play. It was time to fully strip and get down to some real sex, so he rose off Chance's scrotum so the boy could lie back and watch him unveil his cock. He wanted Chance to see it in all its meaty uncut glory. He knew from experience his was a dick young cock-hounds like Chance lusted after. So, straddling the boy's chest, he stood up and slowly peeled off his moist jock.
"OH FUCK!" Chance gasped, reverently, eyes riveted to Wyatt's astonishing manhood, as the older stud tossed his wet jock aside.
Wyatt's cock was incredible, the perfect crowning touch to his raw-stud sexuality. It was full, thick, long, and meaty, like Chance's, only probably an inch longer and thicker. But what made it mouth-wateringly hot was the long extra fold of foreskin-hood nippling down about an inch over the head. The whole lovely package dangled sexily down over a pair of drooping balls as big as a young boy's fist, nestled in a beautifully sweaty puff of Wyatt's pubes. Chance, already hard, now felt like he might shoot just by looking at that dick. He raised his hands up and handled it worshipfully, toying with that deliciously tempting mouthful of foreskin.
"That's the hottest-looking dick I've ever seen, Wyatt. Fuck, stud," Chance said, voice thick with lazy lust, "get back down here and lemme at this thing."
"Glad you like it, boy," Wyatt smiled. He turned around and eased his hard, muscular frame down on top of the boy so his cock was right at Chance's hungry mouth. Meanwhile, he grabbed Chance's hard, wet, twitching prick roughly by the base and went right to work on it. Wyatt had been lusting after Chance's thick young meat all night. Other than fucking, there were few things Wyatt loved more than pleasuring another stud while his own cock and balls were getting serviced, so the two muscle-studs commenced to 69 with an almost-obscene relish, finally free to commence what they hoped would be a long journey of intimacy with each other's bodies.
After a few minutes of hot, juicy slurping and sucking, Wyatt pulled off to get a better purchase on Chance's hips. As much as he loved sucking that long, thick, veiny young meat, he wanted something else more: he hoisted Chance's hips up to get at that smooth, muscular ass. His own dick, simmering from the smoldering heat of Chance's oral worship, was set to burst, so he wanted to ready this dream-boy's ass for entry. His tongue dug in, as excited as a young boy with a triple-scoop cone handed to him. He lapped and tongued that smooth, hard jock ass in sheer saliva-thick delight. He could remember no better sensation than this young stud's smooth crack and tight pucker. He thought he might cum just from the contact high of his tongue sensuously grooving that velvet-slick pleasure-zone.
He lapped, sucked, pried his tongue in, working the tight hole open, all the while slurping and snorting with luscious abandon. As he grew more and more enraptured with the best ass he'd ever rimmed, Wyatt noticed Chance's attention to his own dick lagging. He laughed to himself, knowing that he was sending Chance over the edge with this rim job. He got into some serious, hard tongue-fucking, twirling and twisting his stiff, wet love-probe into every possible spot along the walls of Chance's love-tunnel. Slurp, lick, suck, tongue-fuck, tongue-fuck, lick, slurp, tongue-fuck - Wyatt set up a deep, insistent rhythm of hot, masculine passion. It's like my tongue's a key, Wyatt thought, and I've finally found the lock it fits. Suddenly, Chance's moans grew louder and harder.
"UH, UH, OH FUCK. OH FUCK, WYATT! OH, THAT'S SO FUCKIN' FINE, I - "
And then the boy shot. Globs of hot young jock-cream coated Wyatt's torso, as well as the boy's cut abs. Wyatt loved how young guys came in such full, thick loads. Smiling at this youthful athlete's tightly-wound erogenous trip-wire, Wyatt kept tonguing while he scooped up what he could of Chance's thick boy-juice and used his cum-coated fingers to work the tight hole wider. He kept tonguing and licking, so he could lap up as much of Chance's hot young spunk as possible. Delicious, a sweet tang to it. Chance was panting in ecstasy, and Wyatt was pleased to see what a sensitive ass the boy had.
Finally he felt Chance was wide enough to take his enormous cock. He flipped himself around, kissing Chance deeply as he turned, then tonguing his ear as he whispered, "You are so fucking fine, son," he hoisted the boy's powerful legs up onto his shoulders, stared as the youth's gorgeous, powerful muscularity, now so sexily vulnerable, and brought his huge, dripping cock-tip to Chance's smooth, slick ass, glistening from cum and saliva. Chance stared down briefly, to marvel that the hood of Wyatt's foreskin was still totally covering his long, gorgeous stiffness.
"Here it comes, boy," Wyatt croaked raspily, barely able to speak from the force of lust overpowering him.
Chance cried out in awe as that dream-dick slid slowly in. Wyatt's cock was thicker than anything he could imagine. It had to be ten inches in diameter, easily. As Wyatt slowly worked the meaty length in, holding his well-muscled frame back proudly as he eased into the boy, Chance was in total bliss. His ass was electrified, begging for each thick inch.
"OH FUCK YES!!!" he cried, and Wyatt just smiled at having found his ultimate young muscle-bottom. He looked down and watched as the young stud's tight, hard ass seemed to inhale his dick, gobbling it up more eagerly than anyone ever had before on a first fuck. Soon he was in all the way. Chance could feel the soft, sexy fur of Wyatt's thighs on his ass, that puffy patch of pubic hair tickling his balls, and Wyatt's hefty low-hangers nestling up to his ass-cheeks. This was a bliss he never wanted to end.
"You ready for some fuckin,' son?" Wyatt asked huskily, bending close to kiss his new young fuck-buddy, both of them falling off the edge of delirium.
Chance kissed back, moaning with all the raw, urgent passion of delirious youth.
"Fuck me, Wyatt! Fuck me hard and long! You are so fucking big, dude! I never had a real man's dick in me before, and I'm fucking lovin' it! God, I need this dick! Fill me with your hot jock seed, man. Make me a man, Wyatt! Make this ass yours!"
This first dream fuck with Chance was proceeding just as Wyatt had hoped. He grabbed the boy's smooth, strong thighs and began to pump. Their two muscular bodies were a blur of athleticism.
Chance relished this huge, hard, thick cock in him, being wielded by such a strong, beautiful hulk of a man. At first he just lay back, his ass-walls tingling with this ultimate stimulation. Wyatt, on the other hand, had never fucked an ass this tight since he first started exploring his sexuality with other young boys in high school. His most recent partners had all been experienced lovers; Chance seemed like a young, just-fucked virgin. And when a hole this tight belonged to the hottest-looking young jock he'd ever seen, why, no wonder his prick was hard, excited steel. All his senses were flared up. He pumped hard, fast, expertly; he wanted to dazzle Chance with his first real man-fuck.
But Chance was up to it. His ass started moving slowly this way and that, up and down, showing Wyatt he was an equal partner. The sensations on Wyatt's dick, with this powerful young dream-stud using his strong core muscles to ride Wyatt's long hard thickness, was exquisite. As good as Wyatt could give, hitting every switch he could in Chance's tight ass, Chance gave back - it was as if Chance's ass were alive and aware of just the kind of pleasure it wanted. God, what a fuck, Wyatt thought. No one had ever met his sexual athleticism like this before. He gazed down at Chance's face, a mask of sweating, straining joy. He was working as hard for his pleasure as Wyatt himself. Their sweat-sheened muscles were a blur of tight, hard, ripples. Had this fuck been filmed, it would have been the best-selling porn-tape in history. It was like watching an older god fuck a young one.
Wyatt's gym echoed with the hard, strong cries of these two athletes, lustily crying out their passion from deep in their guts. It was mostly wordless grunting with the word "fuck" repeated over and over. You couldn't get any deeper into sex than these two were getting.
Wyatt felt it build, an orgasm rushing on him like a tidal wave. He plunged hard and deep into the lush moistness of Chance's sweet ass, causing the boy to gasp, pushing him further into ecstasy. Wyatt pumped three thick loads of man-cum into Chance's ass, but knew a few more spurts were coming. He pulled his long, thick, glistening cock out and brought it close to Chance's lips. The boy, in the dreamy throes of just-fucked lust, brought his hands up to stroke that gleaming, glorious prick. Wyatt's face clenched and he shot a few more thick gobs, which landed on Chance's lips and cheeks like cool water on the face of a sun-parched desert-traveler. Wyatt felt one more blast churning up from his near-empty balls. He caught it in his hands, lapped it up with his tongue, and then bent down to kiss his new bed-partner. Chance opened his mouth in tender gratitude, and Wyatt delicately used his tongue to coat Chance's tongue and lips with his cream. With that loving gesture, he cemented forever a new, intimate relationship with this young god, the best boy he'd ever fucked. He loved Jesse, nothing changed there, but Chance now became a wonderful new opportunity for sex. It was like two proud warriors from the same tribe - each stranded and alone in a new world - had, through some stroke of luck, found each other, each recognizing a brother, silently vowing they would never break this newly-forged bond.
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