The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it is not allowed, cease reading now and depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind always to practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.
Patrick Young ClayCub51@Yahoo.com
CLAY -- Chapter Five "Realities"
"Ohhh, God, my head!" Clay moaned. He wanted to open his eyes, but his lids were too heavy and the light hurt. It hurt to move, to think, to ... REMEMBER! He bolted upright, only to have his brain slosh against his skull again, his hands cradling his throbbing head.
He slowly recognized where he was: that he was in his completely disheveled bed, alone, naked, smelled of sweaty sex. His hard morning rod ached, strangely abraded, encrusted with dried cum. He tried to piece together the story: okay, last night, the bar, the game, the IRISHMAN! "Oh my God!" he gasped. `That gorgeous Irish Adonis at the bar I helped home. He fucked me!'
Clay clinched his ass. His pucker spasmed, sending a dull ache deep into his bowels and a surge of hot slime out of the raw head of his dick. He threw me down and fuckin' RAPED my ass!' Another spew of dicklube bubbled forth. Clay gazed at his wet cock as his hand slowly grasped it, slicked the head with his juice, stroked gently. And I got off on it, didn't I? He pinned me to the floor and full-power DICKED me, and I wanted him to!' His strokes quickened with his breath, his shaft hard as iron, purple veins straining, head flared and flaming. `He held me down, and stuffed that big, hard monster cock up my ass and pounded me into the rug, slapped me, made me take it all! And I wanted it all!'
His fist was pounding his throbbing rod furiously. He reached back and jammed fingers in his sore hole, still swollen, loose and sticky and hot, SO WHAT? GET IN THERE!' searching for his chestnut frantically. He kept yelling, "Mine! You're MINE!" and I wanted to be his, I wanted him IN ME!' Clay flailed backward on the bed, saliva flying, reliving the ecstasy of being taken, taken totally, filled, owned. `I wanted that big dick to shoot in me, to brand me, to be his boy, his hole to fuck, to rape, to fill me, to drink him dry, to make him CUM!' He bludgeoned his hole with his fingers, his hips jerking upward rhythmically.
"Cum for me, goddammit, cum in me!" he shrieked aloud. "I want your big dick, Tony, I want you inside me! I LIKE YOU inside me, feed me your hot cum, fucker!" Clay hit his prostate again and erupted in a blast of jism that flew up his nose, ropes crisscrossing his furry chest, splatters across his heaving stomach, his hole sucking on the three fingers impaled there. "Fuck me, Tony, I want you in me, to CUM in me, IN ME!" he wailed, his back arched, his hand jammed up his ass, his cock thrusting in his big fist, draining the last of his spurts.
Clay licked his lips. The sticky, coagulating sperm was acrid, sweet. "Mmmmm..." he cooed as he swallowed. He milked his softening cock, caught his final spunk and sucked it off his thumb with a loud smack, "Ahhhh, yeah!" He looked down his splattered torso and rubbed viscous droplets into his pelt as the fingers of his left hand escaped from his pulsing hole, which he massaged and stroked. God, what a cum!' he thought. I love being a MAN! Feels so good, manlove!' A sudden image of Josh, impaled on Clay's big dick, riding it, spraying them from that hot hooded firehose as he came up Josh's molten ass, made him smile. "Manlove!" he murmured. Then he flashed on that hot little muscle Daddyman whose hand was damn near fisting him, demanding Clay to show him he loved the loving, demanding Clay's cock down his throat, sucking a quart of Clay's cum into his beautiful bearded face, voracious for more, more loving, more "Manlove!" he spoke louder. Then donkey-dicked Tony dominating him, immobilizing him, bludgeoning his bowels, claiming his hole, owning his orgasm through the pain. "Manlove!" he barked. "It was good! It was ALL good! Even when it hurt, it was good. Manlove!" He eased back into the pillow, spent, content, satiated, and drifted off.
Some time later, Clay awoke. He felt great! The headache was gone. He yawned and stretched wildly, his shoulders and asshole sore, but in a good way. He got up and went into the bathroom to piss the gallon of ale from the night before, and stepped into the shower to scrub off the sweat and cum matting him down. The warm water felt delicious, invigorating, soothing. His body felt alive. His spirit was full. Three men had wanted him. Three REAL MEN! Strong, virile, sexy men. Enjoying their maleness with him, expressing their ecstasy, release, bliss. And he expressing his with them. What's wrong with that?' he wondered. NOTHING!!' he concluded immediately. `Nothing is wrong with loving a man.' No guilt, no shame, no remorse. What's the problem with men loving men anyway? It was ALL GOOD!
As he dried his fine, strong body, the first pang of conscience hit. "What about Claire? What about your marriage? What about your commitment?" the voice demanded. Well, this was not about me and Claire. Nothing's wrong with me and Claire. I love her. That is not changed at all. She's my wife, my life partner, my ladylove, my one-and-only. This is separate from me and Claire.' "REALLY?" snarled the voice. "What kind of closet case are you? You just had sex with three different MEN, you dirty assfucker! Queerboy! FAGGOT! What the hell are you thinking? This is GAY SEX! You'll get AIDS, kill you and her BOTH, you stupid fuck!" Oh, shit! That's the one thing I would not do, threaten our lives..." Clay worried. "Well, you already DID, asshole. Now what are you going to do?" the voice screamed.
A sense of dread crept over Clay. He shuddered. "Now I've stepped in it," he said softly to the image in the mirror, whose eyes bored back intensely. "What do I do now?" His thoughts raced as he lathered up his face. I just didn't think I would ever be having sex outside of my marriage, much less risky sex. Certainly not gay sex. Guys just mess around sometimes, right? We've always grabbed ass and played gotcha in the locker room. It's never been about whoring around. THAT'S when you get exposed to disease, right, when ...' "What turnip truck did you just fall off of, you fool!" roared the voice. "You don't know where those dicks and asses have been before you, or how many times!" But these are good men, aren't they? I'm a good person and I keep good company. My universe is not about sleazy, dangerous relationships. I have met these men for a good reason, for some intention of discovering something positive in this life, right?' "POSITIVE is the problem here: ONE MICROBE IS ALL IT TAKES, IDIOT!! You could've been fucking Death itself for all you know. You've been fucking around, period! How stupid can you get?!?!"
Okay, I may have made a true mistake, and I have to fix it if I can. The first thing is to ask these guys the specific question: Was the sex we had safe? Or not?' He realized he had not yet made the first stroke with his razor. I've got to at least ask.' He began to shave, his hand a bit shaky.
"So what if you don't get the answer you want? And can you be sure you won't be lied to?" sneered the voice. `God knows I may have fucked up, but God also knows I have not done so deliberately nor wantonly. I love my life. I adore Claire. I want to make a difference in this world, and making new friends here has to start with being available, to know who my fellows are, who I am to be my intention with. So if I am to have any integrity, I have to know whose company I'm keeping, starting with sex, if getting physical is part of those I will know. And that means asking an honest question FIRST before an impulse just takes over.'
"Well, that's an improvement, buster, over letting the urges in your little head rule the brain in your big head," the voice chided. "But is that enough? What about the sex, period? What about it being mansex? Are you really gay, or are you bi, or what? What about your marriage commitment, son?"
Clay splashed water on his face to finish his shave. He looked up into saddened eyes. `The sex is just sex. What's the big deal with loving a man? It's being a male and enjoying being physical. So it's with another male. What's the difference? I don't feel wrong about being with a man. There was certainly nothing evil or bad about what we did. Hell, it was wonderful to be in a man's mouth, a man's ass, a man's cock in me. It felt GREAT to cum like that, to share such loving to release, dammit!' He realized he was softly smiling at his image. "You look good, Clay, good enough to be desired and taken," he told the big man in the mirror. "But what are you risking? Is the risk worth the consequences? You cannot compromise your integrity, or your marriage, or your life, for a fuck." The words caromed off the tiles. "Was it just a FUCK, or was it about the loving? Hmmmm..."
Clay grabbed a pair of shorts from the dresser drawer and was pulling them on when he saw the card. COREY 202-345-6789 was written in a strong, bold, impeccable script. How come I didn't see this before?' he wondered. He turned the card in his hand: nothing else. Did my invader the other night leave this for me? Had to be! And I find it at this moment, too...' He stared at the number a minute, then picked up the phone and punched it in.
A familiar bass barked, "If you have this number, it better be to talk to your Daddy. Leave your name and number and I might call you back if I decide you're worth it." The BEEP startled Clay.
"Uh, uh, Corey, uh, sir, this is Clay Grant, uh, in uh, Warren's former apartment on Calvert Street, remember? I need to speak with you, please, sir. 789-1234, any time. It's important, sir. I hope to hear from you soon. Uh, thank you, uh, sir. Goodbye."
Clay was shaking as he hung up the phone. He stared blankly at it, turning the card over and over in his fingers. The sound of the voice was so powerful, so exhilarating! No bullshit, just clear and strong and ... what was it about that voice? Compelling. Honest. Loving. Yes, that was it! Forceful and kind, the roar of a lion. Masterful. Rich. "Please call me back, Daddy. I need you right now. I need to know who you are, what you have. I need you to teach me how to do what you do."
The phone rang. Clay jumped, then snatched the receiver. "Clay Grant here."
"This soon enough for you, cubby?" sang the bass on the other end.
"OH! It's you!" Clay sputtered. "I ..., I just ..., I didn't expect it to be you, sir."
"Daddy hears that you need him, son, so I'm here." The voice was soothing, calming, kind. "Now, what is it?"
Clay took a deep breath. "I need to ask you something, sir, about the other night. I may have made some mistakes, so I have to know if I ..., if we ..."
"No, I don't have HIV or any STDs, so me loving you up ain't gonna hurt you," the bass crooned. "Is that all you're worried about, or is there more?"
`Jesus, he can read my mind!' Clay thought, stunned. "Uh, how did you know that? Yes, I've worried, and I had to ask," he stammered.
"Good boy, get to the point and get on with it. I'm going to like you, cubby, you're a keeper," the man chuckled softly. "What else, then?"
Clay's mind raced with questions, and a need that was urgent came clear. "Would you take some time to let me talk with you, sir? I would really appreciate a conversation with someone who ..., who I could ..., who might ...,"
"Help you, cub? Love you? Your Daddy is always here for you. You'll soon know that and believe me without a doubt." The voice was sultry, masterful.
"Oh, yes, sir!" Clay blurted as a jolt ran up his cock. "I mean, would you? When could you see me?"
"I'm scheduled solid until about 9:00 tonight. Is that too soon for you, son?" he sang.
"No, sir, that's so great of you! Where do you want me?" Clay was filled with a warmth centered at his racing heart and radiating to his balls, his cock thickening in his shorts.
"I'll come to you, if there's no conflict. I know the where you are."
"That's perfect, sir. I'll be waiting." A safe, intense calm eased his mind. He knew he was going to be all right. "Thank you, sir, thank you so much!"
"See you at 9:00, then, cubby." And the line clicked off.
"He's coming to see me!" Clay thrilled. "I'm going to be okay! Daddy's going to come back to me and talk to me. Thank you, God! I knew this was not all a big mistake, a bloody mess I made. There IS a reason I'm going to know this man Corey, and he's coming to help me figure it out. Tonight!" Clay looked in the dresser mirror at a very different image than the one in the bathroom. A light from within himself, energy and warmth surrounded the man he now saw. "And he's going to know me, too!"
"Hello?"
"Josh, it's Clay. Got a minute?"
"HI!" Josh chirped, clinching his ass. "Wow, I was just daydreaming about you, stud! How do you do that?"
Clay chuckled, "Do what, you crazy man? Am I making you blush?"
"There, you did it again! I'm making a mess in my shorts and you knew it!" Josh cooed. "Are you psychic or something?"
"Call it intuition, if you like. Listen, I need to talk. Can you come up?"
"I was just getting my gear together to go work out. Want to come with me as my guest, maybe check the club out? It's just three blocks away. We could chat on the way," Josh almost plead. "C'mon with me, man, let me do this for you. Might be just the place you were looking for."
Clay checked his watch. Plenty of time to work up a sweat and be ready before 9:00. "Okay, I'll meet you in the lobby in five minutes."
"Super!" Josh burbled. "See you downstairs!"
Clay got out his gym bag, threw his gear in and headed out the door. Josh was waiting outside the elevator and his face lit up upon seeing the big blond buck who fucked him senseless yesterday. `God, he's gorgeous! And so unaffected! I think I might be falling in love...' he thought. "Hiya, big boy! Ready to sweat again?"
"You keep your dick in your pants, hot stuff, and there won't be any more trouble," Clay joked back, the edge to his tone belying the twinkle in his emerald eyes.
"Oh, it was no trouble at all, buddy, not for you!" Josh bantered back, throwing his arm across Clay's shoulders as they bounded out the front door.
"Are you sure, Josh? Can I be sure there's no trouble?" Clay replied, suddenly serious. "Do I have anything to be worried about?"
The realization of what Clay was asking hit Josh like a brick. His eyes flew wide as he wheeled Clay to a stop, faces close. "Oh my gosh, Clay, I didn't even think about that. God, NO, there's nothing to worry about, man. I just got my screening results last week, and I'm totally clean. That's why I didn't even give a thought to us not using any protection. I wouldn't dream of putting someone at risk if I wasn't absolutely sure that there was nothing to worry about. Do you believe me?"
"Of course I believe you, man. Why would you lie to me?" Clay said. "I know I'm na^'ve and probably stupid, and I'm certainly new to having a man jump my bones for pleasure, but it hit me that I hadn't been present enough to even ask the question. I guess I better get used to that if I don't want to bring anything home that neither Claire nor I want there, right?"
"Jesus, you are amazing, man," Josh replied, as they resumed down the block. "Aware of your parameters like no one I've ever met. You're very special, you know." He squeezed Clay's neck muscles lovingly.
"I have to be fair, Josh. I am a married man, and I desperately love my wife and our life. This move is presenting a lot of new and amazing experiences to us, and I'm not going to screw it up by not thinking clearly and without intending to make a difference to the people I meet. You're not offended that I had to ask, are you?"
Josh stroked Clay's blond curls. "I'm impressed. A man of integrity as well as a total hunk! You're as dear as you are sexy!"
"Awww, cut it out, you're the sexy one," Clay laughed, punching Josh on the arm as they entered the club.
"God, I'm beat!" Clay sighed as he collapsed on the bench in front of their lockers. "You pushed me hard, you muscle maniac!"
"As if you didn't push right back, stud!" Josh retorted. "Let's hit the sauna and relax a while before we clean up, okay?"
"Sounds like a plan, man," Clay said, peeling out of his sweaty togs and grabbing a towel. "Lead on!"
The steam was delicious. Both men found benches and collapsed, groaning lightly. There were several others elsewhere in the fog, a stream of entering and exiting. "Mmmm, that feels good!" Clay heard Josh's murmur close to his right. He opened his eyes to face a formidable hard-on right before him. He recognized Josh's ring on the hand that reached up and clutched the big cock, stroking deliberately. "Nice!" came Josh's voice again. Clay's dick bloomed into glory at the sight before him, and a big hand snaked up Clay's thick thigh to grasp it.
"So's this one," came a familiar voice. "You two wanna play?"
Clay sat upright, his cock surging into the milking hand as Josh stood and nestled his hard rod between them three. "I'm game, man. How `bout you, Clay?" Josh whispered.
"Depends," Clay stalled as the other two stepped close, dicks duelling, drooling.
"Play or not, your choice. I'm ready," said the monster's owner. He leaned down to take Clay's cock in his mouth all the way to the pubes and back to the crown with a loud slurp, then brought his face up to Clay's. TONY! The hot Irishman, his rapist! Clay's breath caught in his throat, his dick throbbed a stream of lube out the slit, the big hand slicking it around the head. "Oh, yeah, from the bar, right? Want a good pounding, fucker?" he crooned lasciviously into Clay's ear.
Clay was dumbstruck, torn between the thrill of another chance at Tony's impressive schlong and a sudden pang of risk, not so much from the possibility of being dominated and maybe hurt again by the wild, angry Irishman, but more the threat of not knowing if this was safe. Clay's hesitation betrayed him, and his cock deflated suddenly in Tony's hand.
"No? That's okay, man," Tony released Clay's cock and turned towards Josh. "This one'll do just fine! Let's go, boy, I'm horny!" and Tony whisked Josh through the swirling steam out the door.
Clay sat there for a few moments, stunned and saddened by being suddenly abandoned. God, be careful, Josh,' he thought as he stood and wrapped his towel around him again, heading back to the showers. Then he remembered his meeting at 9:00 with Corey, his Daddyman, and he felt centered again. Maybe this is just as well. Maybe the universe is telling me something here. I bet Corey will help me sort it out.'
TO BE CONTINUED
Thanks for all who have written with your comments on the story so far.
Special thanks to Tony for the visual inspiration, and to Evan the Lion for your mentoring and presence.
Comments and feedback to ClayCub51@yahoo.com