Tales From the Weightroom The following contains material of an adult nature, specifically consensual sexual contact between men. If you do not wish to be exposed to such material, or are legally prohibited from viewing it, DO NOT PROCEED. Certain acts depicted do not conform to safe sex guidelines. The first part of this story takes place in the late seventies before the full extent of the AIDS epidemic was known, and should be viewed from that perspective.
Tales from the Weight Room
by K. W. Bennett
Chapter Twelve: Meanwhile, In Another Part Of The House....
....The late evening chill had forced everyone to change back into their clothes and a few had fetched jackets to combat the cold air.
Ian was sitting on a lounger, talking to Greg, the full back I had spoken to before I went upstairs with Gil.
"I know I've got the body for it, but I haven't got any co-ordination. I run awkwardly at best, and I can't catch worth a damn. Besides, I just don't enjoy playing games."
"Whatta ya mean, ya don't like playing games?"
"I don't even play cards. I've never found anything interesting in games. I could care less if I win or lose, and to actually take the time to learn the rules seems pointless when I won't get anything out of it."
"But the thrill, the sport...."
"Is completely lost on me."
"That's so weird! I can't imagine my life without them. I play some sort of game every day. Sports, cards, dominoes, chess."
"You play chess?"
"Sure. I'm not very good at it, but maybe that's 'cause I don't play with anybody who's better'n me."
"I play chess. Very well as a matter of fact."
"See, you do play a game!"
"Chess is different. It's more about strategy than winning or losing to me. I still don't care if I win, I learn a lot from a win or a loss. I can play for hours and only take note of the plus-minus when I'm done."
"You wanna play a game?"
"Sure, you know where there's a board?"
"In the Rumpus Room. Gil's got every game under the sun in there. There's a pool table, card table, the works. C'mon I'll show ya."
"Are you sure it's OK?"
"Of course. We can go anywhere in the house we want, except the third floor. That's where his parents bedrooms are. The only rule at these things is 'If you make a mess, clean it up, and try not to break anything.'. We have the run of the house while we're here."
"Great. Lead on Mac Duff."
Ian and Greg entered the house, moved down the hallway, and turned right into a darkened room. Greg hit a switch and the room was revealed.
It was wainscoted and panelled in dark mahogany. The panels were moulded squares, two feet by two feet.
There was a fireplace which was located centrally on the wall opposite the door. The mantel was carved mahogany, and the hearth was red brick.
Over the mantel hung a large black and white photograph of eight men in evening wear sitting around a sizeable poker table surrounded by eight identical leather wing chairs. The chairs were lower to the ground than would be normal for games playing, so the table was set at a lower height to accommodate.
In the centre of the room was a large, oak billiards table. Suspended over it was a lamp the same length of the table and only slightly less wide. The shade appeared to be black velvet with tassels hanging down all around it. It contained several bulbs which cast a more than ample amount of light onto the green felt.
The main light fixtures for the room were hanging over tables. There were wall sconces lining both the front and back walls, but they cast a feeble glow compared to the glare of the hanging lamps.
There were two raised recesses at either end of the room. One contained the poker table in the picture. A Tiffany Glass lamp hung over it, illuminating the green baize playing surface which was surrounded by troughs for poker chips. Each chair faced a trough, and each trough was flanked by a flat surface for glasses and ashtrays.
The other recess contained two chairs similar to those around the poker table. They were on opposite sides of an exquisitely carved table. A silk shaded fixture cast it's glow onto the playing surface..
Greg led the way to this alcove. After he climbed the steps, Ian could see the table was inlaid with a marble chess board of white and green squares. The table contained four drawers in the pedestal, each face carved with a replica of one of the playing pieces it contained.
"This is amazing!" said Ian. "Seems inappropriate to call it a Rumpus Room! I can't imagine much of a rumpus occurring in here. It's like a Library. I feel as if we should be talking in whispers!"
"You get used to it. Gil's Grandpa used to have his business cronies over for card parties in the fifties. Those things used to go on all weekend. More money's been lost and won here than we'll probably see in our entire lives. That picture over the mantel of the fireplace was taken before one of the parties."
Ian moved to examine the photograph more closely. The cut of the clothing, and the rich grey-white tones of the picture corroborated Greg's labelling of the era as the nineteen fifties.
"My God! That's a veritable who's who of corporate magnates. All of those guys were the movers and shakers of the post war era."
"I guess so. Personally I wouldn't know an Eaton from my Astor, but I'll take your word for it."
"Very funny. But seriously, I never realized Gil came from such an influential family. I recognized the name, but didn't think he might be related."
"Oh, yeah! Our little Gilbert was born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth."
"He sure doesn't act like it. How come he goes to our high school? I would've thought he'd be at prep school or something."
"So did his Mom. I don't know all the details, but I know his Dad came from the other side of the tracks so to speak. I figure it's his choice."
"I see. You ready for a game?"
"Sure. The pieces are in the top drawer. The one with the castle on it."
"That's a Rook. I hope you don't call the Knights 'Horsies' or this game is over before it starts."
"I know the names. I just wanted to get your goat. I also know they're called 'Men' not 'Pieces'."
Ian opened the drawer and was taken aback. Thirty-two enamelled figurines, painted to resemble the French and British armies of the Napoleonic wars were nestled in red velvet.
The Kings were Napoleon and Wellington, the Queens were represented by the figures of Britannia and Liberty. The Bishops were crafted in meticulous detail, from the mitres on their heads to the croziers in their hands. The french Bishops were Roman Catholic and the British were Church of England. The Knights were Cavalrymen on horseback, and the Rooks were a tableau of artillery men with cannons.
The Pawns were unusual in that they were individual figures. They were all foot soldiers in an attitude of battle, but no two figures were alike.
The same was true of the other pieces as well. The three pairs of Knights, Bishops, and Rooks, were all individuals, their only commonalties being the size of the figure and the uniforms or robes they were wearing.
Ian drew in a breath and gently picked up the figure of Britannia. He could see by the patina of use that the figures were antiques. The craftsmanship was exquisite, the detail flawless. The figure was heavier than he expected, and he concluded it must be cast metal covered by enamel, painted, then lacquered to protect the pigments.
He replaced the figure in the drawer and looked up at Greg.
"These are fantastic! I'm flabbergasted! They're obviously very old, and quite valuable. I don't know if I can play a game with them. I could spend my whole time examining each one."
"Then we'll definitely use them. I can use all the help I can get. If you're distracted, I might have a chance of beating you!"
Ian laughed at the comment and the two boys sat down. Ian then said,
"Not a chance! But seriously, is this the only set?"
"There's another one in that cabinet over there, but it's older than this one. They're carved and painted wood that look like those dudes in the Robin Hood movies. Believe it or not, this is the everyday set."
"Then I guess we'll have to use this one. I don't think I even want to see the other set till we're done our game. I'd spend too much time gawking. So, White or Black?"
Greg opened the second drawer and removed a backgammon cup and one die. He popped the die into the cup and handed it to Ian.
"We usually roll for it. Highest is White."
"Nice."
Ian shook the cup and rolled a five. Greg replaced the die in the cup, shook it and rolled a three.
"You win. We usually play French as Black and British as White, red blooded Monarchists that we are, but you can choose which you want to be."
"I was just about to ask, but no need to break with tradition. I'll be Wellington. No sense in changing history."
"What?"
"Napoleon lost the Battle of Waterloo. I'm gonna whup your ass, so it's only fitting you be the Late Emperor."
"Ha ha. Don't count me out just yet. Besides, I thought you didn't care about winning?"
"I don't, but considering our vastly different skill levels, I think the outcome is pretty well already determined."
"Then let's add another element to make it more interesting."
"Like what?"
"You're already distracted by the set, but that's not enough to unbalance you. How about if we each have to take off a piece of clothing whenever we lose a man?"
"Strip Chess!? That's disgus...."
Ian looked the young full back up and down. He was fairly well built, brawny but not defined. Ian had to admit the guy was hot.
"Well maybe not disgusting, but definitely not cool."
"Afraid you'll lose?"
"No! It just seems so dirty. I have a problem equating Chess and sex. They just don't go together in my mind. Besides, you know I'm gay. Getting a chance to see you naked might just be an incentive not a distraction."
"I know you're gay. I'm Bi, so the incentive works both ways. Of course, so does the distraction."
"You're bisexual? I always thought that was a myth. A way for guys to convince themselves they're not gay."
"It's no myth. There's one standing right in front of you. I know most people don't recognize the validity of what I am, but that doesn't change the fact that I, and others like me, exist."
"I didn't mean to offend you, Greg. Hell, I'm just getting used to accepting myself as being gay. I just blurted that out. I'm sorry."
"It's OK Ian. That old story about saying you're bi to cover up being gay is something I've had to live with. It's funny. Straights think we're just confused, and gays think we're fence sitters. I personally think we see the best in both worlds, and that's why people don't like us. Nobody likes to think someone else is having more fun than they are. It isn't really all that different for me than it is for anybody else, another myth that should be exploded, but because we technically have the whole world to chose from, people naturally think it's easier."
"You have to admit, it doesn't hurt to have double the chances."
"That's just it. I don't. I have double the choices. There's a difference. I have to get to know someone, just like you do. I have to face the possibility of rejection, same as anybody. Just because I'm attracted to both men and women, there's no guarantee they'll be attracted to me. It's not like, 'Oh she doesn't like me, I'll go with him.' It doesn't work that way. Being rejected is being rejected, straight, gay, bi, or whatever. I'm surrounded every day by people I'm attracted to and don't have a hope in hell of ever connecting with. What makes that any better than what you go through?"
"I never thought about it like that before. But then I've never really thought about it at all. I've known for a long time that I wasn't attracted to girls sexually, but it's only recently I've been able to think of myself as gay. I can't imagine what it takes to accept what you have to deal with."
"It's not easy. I've had experiences with both sexes, and I even had a girlfriend for a while, but there's never been anything that lasted. I'm open to a monogamous relationship, but when things were getting serious with my girlfriend, I told her about being bi. She freaked. I went from being a loyal boyfriend into some kind of lascivious whore in the space of about two minutes. She accused me of being unfaithful and started naming guys she thought I'd been with. I had been completely faithful to her the whole time, but she just wouldn't listen. We broke up that night, and we avoid one another when we can. She never told anyone about me. I guess she figured it would reflect badly on her. So much for honesty!"
"That must've been awful. I'm surprised you still tell anyone."
"I don't. To tell the truth Ian, you're the only other one who knows about it. Anyone I've been with either thinks I'm gay or straight."
"I'm honoured, but why tell me?"
"Because I'm really attracted to you, and I thought since you were so open about being gay, you'd understand and maybe there might be a chance we could hit it off."
"Oh Greg. I'm so sorry. It's not that I'm not flattered, and at another time I would have jumped at the chance. But Jordy'n me are kinda a couple. It only happened in the last couple of days, but I think I love him and I wouldn't want to do anything to hurt him."
"Bummer. About you and me I mean. I think it's great you've found someone you can care about. I guess I'll just have to keep looking."
"Don't give up Greg. Before I hooked up with Jordy, I had the biggest crush on Keith. When I finally got up the nerve to tell him about it, he was already going out with Dan. I was disappointed, but that same day I met Jordan and things just sort of happened. Jordy, Dan, and Keith have helped me a lot. Maybe we can help you too, if you'd like."
"Thanks Ian. It sure would be good to talk to someone about all this. I don't know Keith very well, but I know Dan and Jordy. If Dan loves him, Keith must be pretty special."
"He is, believe me. It's too bad he doesn't realize it."
"What's the problem?"
"It's a long story, but the short version is; his Dad's a violent prick who's abused Keith for the last several years. You've seen those shiners on his face and the split lip? His Dad did that. Keith's been put down all his life for his weight and his lack of interest in more quote-unquote, manly things."
"That sucks! From what I've seen, he's a decent guy. You don't get to be SAC President without being popular in some way or other."
"I don't think he looks at it like that. To him, it's something he can do, and do well. I honestly think he believes he got the position because he was the best guy for the job, and because the last guy was such a jerk.. He doesn't realize the number of people who went out and drummed up support. Not only because he was the best guy for the job, but because everybody genuinely likes him. I worked on his campaign. My job was open and I got in by acclamation, so I spent a lot of time boosting him. The funny thing was, there really wasn't much boosting to be done. Almost everybody I talked to either knew him or knew someone who knew him. He'd essentially won the election just by announcing he was running. When the votes were counted, he had a ninety-five percent majority. He just sloughed it off as a reaction to the chicanery practised by his opponent. It's as if he didn't want to, or couldn't, acknowledge his own popularity. If you pay attention when someone compliments him, he turns red and doesn't know what to say."
"That's too weird!"
"I know, but that's the way it is. Dan's interest in him has helped a lot, but until he deals with the root problem, he'll always question himself."
The noise of several voices outside the door preceded its opening to reveal Dan, Jordan, and four other guys. They were obviously in high spirits.
Jordan spotted Ian and Greg sitting in the alcove and the group approached the stairs. Jordan climbed the steps and kissed Ian passionately on the mouth.
"So this is where you got to. Where's Keith? I thought he'd be with you."
Dan moved up beside Jordan and surreptitiously nudged him in the ribs.
"He's upstairs with Gil. They're upstairs looking at Gil's books. I told you that already. Remember?"
Dan placed an emphasis on "books" and "Remember" fixing Jordan with a significant look. Jordan thought for a moment, then nodded knowingly.
"Oh, yeah. I remember now. Looking at 'books'. Right."
He turned his attention to Greg, and said in a joking tone,
"I hope you haven't been getting fresh with my boyfriend, man! I'd hate to have to ask you to step outside!"
Everybody laughed as Greg's face turned red. He shot Ian a look, imploring silence for now, and replied,
"Naw. It's you're hot bod I'm after, but I guess I'm shit out of luck!"
The others laughed, and Dan said,
"Maybe not. Everybody else took off, so Randy here suggested a game of strip poker, and after Jordy and I promised not to get too excited and ravish the losers, Cameron, Norm and Stu agreed to join in. There's two more places at the table, you guys want to join the fun?"
Ian eyed the chess table, then looked at Greg. Greg seemed eager to play with the others, so Ian said,
"I'm not big on card games so you'll have to spot me some points and explain the rules. We were going to have a game of chess, but you rowdy buggers are going to make that impossible. That OK with you, Greg?"
"I'd like to play chess, but I agree it's a bit too noisy now. Maybe tomorrow we can slip in a quick game or two."
Ian smiled.
"Well Danny Boy. Looks like you've got two more players."
"Great! But remember, this wasn't my idea, so don't blame me when you're sitting naked after the fifth hand!"
"Don't worry, I won't."
The eight youths moved to the poker alcove. As he passed the photograph of the eight powerful men who once gambled fortunes at the same table, Ian thought their glowers got a little deeper at the sacrilege their former sanctum was about to undergo.
When they were seated at the table, Randy took inventory of the number of articles of clothing each was wearing. They determined the player with the most amount of clothing, and the number ten was reached as a base.
In deference to ease of play, each player was issued thirty red poker chips, three for each item of clothing according to the base amount. Blue chips were handed to each player in accordance with the difference between the base amount and the amount of clothing worn. Ian was given an extra two because of his unfamiliarity with the game.
The rules of play were as follows. No ante. Three chip maximum bet. Dealers choice, but no Stud games. (For those who don't know, Stud games are those in which a card or cards are dealt face down and the rest are dealt face up, betting occurring as each card is dealt. There may or may not be a final, face down card-K) After five hands, inventory of chips would be taken and the required number of garments would be removed or blue chips redeemed. Play would then continue for another five hands and the process repeated.
If a player gained back chips in subsequent rounds, they could not put any clothes back on, they just didn't have to take any more off.
Play would continue until a majority were completely nude.
Ian commented on the complicated nature of the rules, and Randy replied,
"We used to play it the other way, betting clothes and stripping after each hand. It slowed down the game too much, and people would renege 'cause they were too chicken to strip. It's easier to do if you're not the only one. When we decided to change it, we used a pen and paper to keep track, but that took as much or more time. Dan hit on the bright idea to place a chip value on the clothes."
"Sounds like you guys do this a lot."
"Only when we have a party like this one. It's just that we have so many, we had to come up with something different."
Ian nodded his understanding and play commenced. They played a few practice hands to familiarize Ian with the game, then the game began in earnest.
At the first Inventory, all the blue chips except two of Ian's were redeemed. Greg and Jordan were barefooted, Stu, Norm and Cameron were shirtless as well as barefoot, and Randy and Dan were minus just their shoes.
Play recommenced and after four more rounds, the standings were as follows; Dan, Jordan, Stu and Norm were completely naked. Cameron still retained his pants and underwear, Greg and Randy were left only in their briefs. Ian was the surprise winner, he had lost only his shoes and socks, and there was a substantial pile of chips in front of him.
The next four hands saw the naked boys without any chips, as well as Cameron and Randy. Greg had exactly three chips left.
Disdaining to wait until the end of the hand, Randy and Cameron removed their final articles of clothing and sat naked watching the final hand.
It was Ian's deal, and he chose the game he enjoyed the most. Straight Poker. Nothing wild. One draw, all or nothing.
He dealt the cards, then picked up his hand. His face was a mask of stone as he regarded the cards in his hand. Greg couldn't help but let a flicker of triumph cross his face.
He threw his remaining chips in the centre and proclaimed,
"No draw."
Ian put three chips in the middle and said,
"Dealer takes five."
Ian threw his hand down and dealt five more cards to himself. Greg could barely contain his excitement. His competitive nature propelled him into saying,
"I don't have any chips left, but I've got to make a bet. How much would a blow-job be worth?"
The others gasped their surprise.
"Greg, man. Are you sure?" said Randy.
"Depends," said Ian "on who gives and who gets."
"What's worth more?"
More gasps.
"You giving."
"What's it worth?"
Exclamations of surprise.
"All my chips."
"You're on!"
Slowly and deliberately, Ian piled all his chips in the middle of the table. Jordan was regarding the scene with curiosity. His eyes met Ian's and he saw a question there. He seemed to know Ian was seeking approval so he gave the thumbs up gesture indicating that whatever happened would be OK with him.
"Call." said Ian "What've you got."
Greg threw his cards face up on the green baize and crowed,
"Three sixes. Start strippin'!"
He reached out to draw the chips to his empty trough.
"Not so fast!"
Ian threw down his cards one at a time. First a ten, then a Queen. Another ten, another Queen. He held the final card upright and let it fall face up on the table. A ten.
"Full House! Open up and say Ahhhh!"
Greg stood frozen. Stunned, as the thrill of victory was snatched away by the final ten. He moved his mouth but no sound came out.
The others stood silently for a moment then they all burst out talking at once. The babble of voices was so loud, no one comment could be heard above another.
Finally, Dan shouted for order.
"OK! OK! One at a time!"
"You're not gonna make him go through with it are ya?" asked Cameron.
"Yeah! Fair's fair and all that but c'mon!" said Stu.
"Why shouldn't he?" said Randy "Greg made the bet and he lost. He should pay up!"
"Right!" said Norm "Like you'd blow him if you lost!"
"I wouldn't have made the bet."
"But..."
"But what? If Greg made the bet thinking he didn't have to pay up, then Ian should make him, just to teach him a lesson."
"I think so too." said Greg.
"What!" said Cameron.
"You turnin' soft in the head, man?" said Stu.
"No." said Greg "But a bet's a bet. I made it. I lost. I gotta pay up."
"No you don't." said Ian. "I never should've taken that bet in the first place. It isn't fair to take advantage of a situation like that. I didn't intend to cash in on it, but I couldn't resist that last comment. Everybody started howling before I had a chance to say anything."
"But you won!" said Greg.
"Like I told you before. I don't care if I win or lose. There was an interesting element of strategy in that game which I enjoyed a lot. That's all I need to take away from it. Case closed."
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as the tension broke. Stu, Norm and Cameron looked sheepish, obviously ashamed for jumping to the wrong conclusions. Dan broke the mood completely by saying,
"Let's all go for a swim! I haven't had a good skinny-dip since the last time we were here."
Ian was the only one still fully clothed, Greg was still in his briefs. Greg looked at Ian and said,
"I don't feel like swimming, let me make it up to you by giving you that game of chess we missed out on before."
"Sure. But I have a favour to ask."
"What?"
"Does that fireplace work? If it does, can you build a fire? I love to watch one when it gets going, and it would complete the mood in here."
"It works, but I've never built a fire before."
"I'll handle that." said Jordan "We've got a fireplace at my house."
"Well, now that that's settled, you guys gonna join me?" said Dan
The others all agreed, and they headed for the door. Dan turned in the doorway and said,
"Don't be too long Jordy. Those three goofs need a good dunking and without you we're one short to do it."
"I'll be along in a minute. This doesn't take too long."
Dan left, and Greg said,
"I gotta go to the can. I'll be back in a minute."
He left by the same door as the others. Jordan drew Ian into a hug, kissed him and said,
"Not bad Red! I thought for a moment things were gonna get ugly. So how long you want me to keep everyone away from here?"
"What!?"
"C'mon babe! You don't think I didn't see the look that passed between you two when we asked you to join the game? I knew somethin' was up as soon as I saw that. Dan could see it too, but he thinks I'm pissed about it."
"And are you?"
"Nope. I'll admit I was a little jealous at first, but I figured you'd tell me all about it later, so I let it be. That little scene at the end of the game cleared everything up for me. He wants you bad! When he made the bet, he was just doin' it out of sheer competition. But before he committed, he already realized he might lose, and I could see it didn't bother him. He was almost hoping to lose 'cause the idea of blowing you really turns him on. The clincher was his offer to play you at chess. He never misses the opportunity to skinny dip. He's usually the one to suggest it, so when he said no I knew he intended to pay up. Have I missed anything?"
"No Mr. Holmes, a brilliant piece of deductive reasoning! Now tell me, and be honest. What should I do?"
"If he's that eager, I say go for it! You'll find out soon enough that Keith's upstairs right now blowing Gil into next week. Dan knows all about it and it's OK with him. We talked about this kind of thing happening, earlier tonight. Danny and I have been doing this for three years and we just feel like settling down. You and Keith only had your first sexual experiences this week, then hopped into a relationship. You both need the freedom to explore things, and there's no reason you shouldn't. We're both pretty sure you'll handle it OK and still come back to us in the morning."
"Thanks Jordan. I really do want to give Greg what he wants. But you do understand that if you said not to, I wouldn't?"
"I know babe. And Dan knows the same thing about Keith. Now let me get this fire built so I can get out of your hair."
"I really do love you, you know."
"I know. And that goes right back at ya, babe!"
Jordan busied himself in the hearth and soon had a cheery fire crackling away, sending the aroma of burning maple into the room. Greg returned shortly before Jordan was finished, still clad in only his briefs.
Jordan put away the fire making utensils and said,
"There. Just throw another log on when it starts to die down. Poke it a couple of times to break up the embers. It's time to go dunk me some chumps!"
He smiled at Greg and left the room.
"What was that for?"
"What?"
"That smile. He looked at me like he knows something that I don't."
"Oh you know all right! He's figured out why you didn't want to go skinny dipping with the rest of them. He just finished filling me in on what you really want."
"R-r-r-r-r-really? What's that?"
"He caught you looking at me funny during the game, and he put two and two together. He knows you don't want to play chess."
"Oh Shit! He's gonna kill me isn't he? I'm so sorry Ian! Is he really mad?"
Ian stepped forward, pulled down Greg's briefs, and began fondling the young full back's cock and balls.
"What do you think?"
"That's not funny Ian! You better stop that before he comes back! He'll be pissed at you too if he finds my dick in your hand!"
"I don't think so, in fact, I think he'd be pissed if he didn't!"
"Huh!?"
"Don't you get it? He figured out that you want to have sex with me, and it's OK with him."
"You're kidding? But he's your boyfriend!"
"As Keith said to me the other day, 'We have a....unique....relationship.'!"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Look. Do you want to talk, or do you want to fool around? Just accept that Jordy's OK with it and leave it at that for now. We'll have lot's of time to talk about it later."
Greg was still obviously confused, but Ian's constant stimulation of his gonads was beginning to have the desired effect. He relaxed for a moment, then the full effect of Ian's words penetrated into his consciousness and he let out a whoop of joy.
Ian smiled as Greg's prick began to grow in his hand. Soft, it was about three or four inches in length, cut, with a bulbous head. It quickly lengthened and expanded to a hard seven inches of throbbing teen meat.
Greg began to unbutton Ian's shirt, but gave up and moved straight for the pants. He undid the belt, then fumbled with the top button of the jeans.
Ian gently moved Greg's hand away and unbuttoned the catch himself. Greg unzipped the fly and pulled the pants and underwear down to Ian's mid-thigh.
Ian's cock sprang up, lightly smacking his belly. There was a bead of pre-cum on the head that began slowly oozing down the shaft.
Greg knelt down and stuffed as much of the eight inches into his mouth as he could fit. He savoured the taste of the pre-cum as it continued to ooze from Ian's piss-slit.
Ian gasped with pleasure and finished the job of removing his shirt. He gently lifted Greg up from his knees and kissed him. He insinuated his tongue into Greg's mouth and tasted the tangy musk of his own pre-cum.
They locked their arms around one another and shared a passionate hug. Their tongues fenced back and forth in their mouths as their hands explored one another's bodies.
'Greg's muscles are well developed and hard, easily distinguishable beneath a thin layer of fat. The general shape of his body is that of any young man who takes reasonable care of himself; flat stomach, slightly protruding pecs, beefy arms. With a little work in the weight room, he could develop into a Dan or Jordan with a modicum of patience and dedication.'
These thoughts passed fleetingly through Ian's mind as he explored the young teen's body with his hands. He paused in his explorations and removed his pants and underwear.
The two teens fell lazily to the floor and assumed a sixty-nine position on their sides. They leisurely sucked one another's cocks, occasionally moving lower to tongue and nibble on the other's ballsack.
Ian began to play with Greg's sphincter, and after receiving a moan of approval, slicked up his index finger and gently slid it past the rosebud into the warm, moist passage.
Greg did the same to Ian, and soon they rolled over, Ian on his back, Greg kneeling over him. Greg was gently thrusting his cock into Ian's mouth as he fingered the young red-head's hole.
Ian, had managed to work three fingers into Greg's ass and was slowly expanding the ring to take a fourth.
Greg lifted his mouth off Ian's prick and said,
"Ian man, that's so fucking hot! I need your dick up there something bad! Will you fuck me?"
"I was hoping you'd ask that! I'd love to! There's only one problem, we haven't got any lube."
Greg spit into his hand,
"We've got all the lube we need right here. 'Nature's KY'! Didn't Shakespeare say "What a piece of work is Man."? Though I don't think he had this particular attribute in mind, at least I don't recall anything like; "How full of spit for butt-fucking." in Hamlet!"
The two youths laughed. Greg began coating Ian's prick with saliva, and Ian began working as much spit into Greg's love tunnel as he could push in with his tongue.
When they were both satisfied with their respective lube jobs, Greg lay on his back and raised his legs in the air.
"Now drill me with that hot cock you flame-headed satyr!"
"Oooooo! Talk dirty to me football boy! You want my big gay dick up your tight bi ass?"
"Ram me Queerboy! Tear into that throbbing bi ass hole! Show me how a man does it!"
Inflamed by the banter, Ian spit into his hand and slicked his cock up even more. He positioned himself with his cock head pressing against Greg's rosebud. He grabbed Greg's ankles, and in one quick thrust, buried his prick up to the pubes in the teen footballer's ass.
He stopped to allow Greg to adjust to the intrusion, then began a slow fuck rhythm, gradually increasing speed until he was thrusting back and forth with wild, savage abandon.
"Ooomph! Oh yeah baby! Yeah! Fuck my hole! Keep it up! Harder! HARDER!!!! Don't stop! Unh! Yes-s-s-s-s-s-s-s! That's it! Oh Yeah! I can feel it now! F-f-f-f-feels s-s-s-s-s-soooo good! I love that hard cock up my chute!"
Ian became even more possessed with desire. He let go of Greg's ankles and leaned forward to take Greg's right nipple in his teeth. He bit down hard, then sawed side-to-side on the dark nubbin of flesh.
Greg moaned in ecstasy, then took a handful of Ian's hair in his hand. He pulled Ian's head up and mashed their lips together, thrusting his tongue deep into Ian's mouth.
Once again, their tongues did a sinuous dance, back and forth between one another's mouths. Greg pulled back slightly and gently bit Ian's bottom lip. Ian pulled away and moved his mouth to chew on Greg's earlobe. Between bites, he whispered,
"Nice, tight ass buddy-boy. I'm...gonna...shoot...in...your...hot..bi...butt! Here it comes! Oh yeah! Here it COMES!! Oh Fuck!!! Cumming! CUMming!! CUMMING!!!! UH-UH-UH-Uh-uh! O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!"
Ian made one final thrust, then filled the young full back's ass with his hot teen spooge. Six full spurts rocketed into Greg's ass.
Greg lay back as Ian pulled his rapidly deflating cock out of the hot hole. Ian collapsed on top of him and sighed,
"That was so fucking hot! You ready to cum?"
"Naw. It always takes me a while. I'll probably be ready when you shoot your next one!"
"Bummer!"
"Actually I think it's great. I get to really build up to it, and when it comes, it's spectacular!"
"When you put it that way, I'm jealous!"
Ian moved his head within reach of Greg's still hard prick and began lazily sucking on the head. Greg stroked Ian's hair and tweaked one of the red-haired boy's nipples.
In a short space of time, Ian was hard and ready to continue.
"So what do you wanna do next?" asked Greg.
"I'd like to you to return the favour. I want that cock of yours up my ass in the worst way!"
"I've never fucked a guy before. I've always wondered what it would be like. All my former experiences were kinda one-sided. I didn't even think to ask. Thanks Ian, I'd really like that."
"Not as much as I will!"
Greg moved between Ian's legs and began to spit slick the red-haired teen's asshole. Ian groaned with pleasure as his rosebud was stimulated by Greg's tongue.
When Greg slipped his fingers into the tight hole, Ian yelped with delight. Greg moved his body around and Ian began to coat the beefy youth's cock with saliva.
Greg's prick was glistening with spit, and his fingers in Ian's anal passage were sliding in and out with ease.
Ian stood and said,
"Can you do it standing up?"
"I've never done it before at all, but I guess so."
"Let's stand in front of the fire. I'll put my hands on the mantel, and you ram me from behind."
"Cool!"
The two teens moved into position. Ian splayed his legs, and placed both hands on the mantel in front of him.
Greg grasped his cock at the base and positioned the head at Ian's glistening rosebud. With one thrust, his prick was buried halfway into Ian's ass hole.
Ian threw his head back and howled.
"Oh yeah! Gimme more! Shove it in all the way! All the way! Oh Greg! It's so-o-o-o big! So nic-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-ce and hard! Fuck me stud! FUCK! ME!!"
Spurred on by Ian's lustful ranting, Greg thrust the remaining inches of his cock into Ian's hungry butt hole.
Ian began bucking like a man possessed, causing a few awkward moments until Greg firmly grasped Ian's hips to calm him down.
"Nice fucking hole, man! So tight! I love shoving my hot prick up your nasty little crack! Fuck! This is so-o-o-o hot! You love this football boy's rod, don't you!? You want me to fuck you hard, don't you!?"
"Oh yes! YES!! Ram it in me Greg! I wanna feel it pounding up my chute!! Harder! HARDER!!"
The two teens were covered with a sheen of sweat, a combined effect of their physical exertions and the heat from the fire. Beads of sweat landed on Greg's cock, mingling with the saliva and increasing the lubrication.
Greg was pistonong in and out of the red-head's ass, frigging Ian's pud while he fucked him. They established a rhythm, fast, then slow, then fast again.
Ian couldn't believe Greg's stamina. They fucked for twenty minutes, non-stop before Greg began to shudder.
"I'm gonna cum buddy! Almost there! It-t-t-t-t-t-t-t's-s-s-s-s-s gonna blow! Cum-m-m-ming! Oh God! Yeah! I'M CUM-M-M-M-M-M-MING-G-G-G-G-GAAAARGGGHuh-uh-uh-uh!"
Greg pulled his dick out of Ian's ass and began to shoot a voluminous load of spooge all over Ian's back. The first spurt hit the back of Ian's neck with an audible splat. The subsequent bursts landed on various parts of Ian's back. So copious was the release, that Ian could feel his entire back coated with spunk. Large droplets cascaded off and onto the floor.
Greg pulled Ian upright and furiously shagged the youth's rock hard prick until Ian was moaning incoherently from the pleasure.
Ian arched his back, and sent a volley of cum into the fireplace to land sizzling on the burning logs. A musky odour rose from the fire, permeating the room.
When the last drops of Ian's spooge landed on the hearth, they collapsed onto the floor, still quivering from the sheer pleasure of their coupling.
They absentmindedly stroked one another's bodies as the last waves of ecstasy ebbed from their nerve endings.
Greg leaned forward and kissed Ian's forehead.
"Thanks man! That was the single most incredible experience I've ever had!"
"You're more than welcome! And thank you. You're one hot dude!"
"Maybe we could get together again sometime."
"I'd like that. I don't think Jordy would mind."
Greg whooped.
"All Right! I didn't......."
Greg was interrupted by the opening of the door.
"What stinks in here?" said a familiar voice.
End of Chapter Twelve.
Coming Soon, Chapter Thirteen: Be Careful What You Wish For.
Thanks to everyone who has written me to say how much you enjoy the Tales.
And of course a big Thank You to the Nifty Archivist as always for providing the venue.
Please write and let me know if you enjoy the Tales so far.
I can be reached at h_talespinner@yahoo.com
I will answer all e-mail as quickly as possible.
Thanks Again, K.