Clare's Boarding House was a throwback to the forties. She was the third generation to operate the place. That bit of information was on her sign out front, as well as "Men Only." Clare herself was a handsome, well-preserved woman in her mid to late forties. Nobody really knew her age but everybody agreed she must've been a real knockout in her younger days. More than one of her boarders had designs on Clare and a few found the balls to actually make a pass, but nobody had ever heard of her making out with any of her boarders. The place was a big three-story house with five rooms on the second floor and three on the third and a wide porch across the front and down one side. The ground floor was Clare's residence and the dining room. She served breakfast at 6:00 and supper at 6:30. If you weren't going to be there for a meal you'd better give her notice. She didn't make lunch but she would pack a lunch for you if you put in your request the night before. There was beer in the refrigerator that you could help yourself to for a dollar that you left on the table. I was given a room on the third floor because she said I was young and healthy and I could handle the stairs. I'm twenty-three years old, out of college, doing an internship for a big distribution outfit and I was working on the ground floor of one of their big warehouses. It was a nice room, big, with heavy-duty furniture that had probably been there since the place opened. She gave me her spiel when she showed me the room. "I don't care what goes on up here...poker and a beer or two, just as long as you don't get drunk...but no women. I'm not running a whorehouse. I don't come upstairs till after 9:30 every morning, to give everybody time to clear out." She waited for me to finish looking around. "I'll take it," I said. "The rent is due every week, on Thursday." There was a guy named Phil in the room at the end of the hall. He didn't take any meals there and he didn't talk. He barely spoke if we passed in the hallway. He was scrawny and a bit creepy but he didn't bother anybody. I only saw the guys from the second floor at meals, so that was the extent of getting acquainted with them. But there was this other guy named Kyle on the third floor, in the room next to mine. He worked on a construction site. He was probably thirty-five or so, big, tall, about two-hundred-forty pounds, built like a tank with muscles from hell, drop-dead good looking and hung like no man had a right to be. He was everything any man wanted to be. He was what you figured God had in mind when he created man in the first place.
I know all of this because he slept naked and he didn't ever shut his door...
claustrophobic, he said...and we passed in the hallway coming or going to the bathroom and he never wore a towel. I had a hell of a time keeping my eyes above his waist. Other times I had to pass by his room to get to the bathroom and that wasn't easy either. He was a friendly sort, very self confident, funny. I made more trips than was necessary to the bathroom those first days. He was usually reading or watching TV and didn't notice me, or pretended not to. I always walked real slow past his door and if he had a book in front of him I went into slow-motion just so I could look at him. His bed was shoved into a corner and if he was lying on his side facing the wall I paused for a good look. He had the finest, tightest-looking bubble butt I'd ever seen on a man. No sag, just two round, solid mounds of muscle. I had trouble sleeping just knowing he was in there and all naked and his door was wide open, like an invitation or something. More than once I got up out of bed in the middle of the night just peer into his room and watch him sleep. Times when we passed in the hallway it was all I could do to cough out a good morning. My throat constricted at the sight of his magnificent body and his cock-not-to-be-believed. He had the biggest cock I'd ever seen. It hung half way to his knees, no exaggeration, and was thick as my wrist. I had this constant image I lived with, wondering how big he got when he was hard.
By the fourth day my nerves were on edge. After two weeks, I discovered that he didn't go home on Friday and Saturday nights, but went out instead. I wanted so bad for him to invite me to come along. I tried going out but found myself coming in early to wait for him to come in. I left my light on and my door open so he would maybe stop at my door and speak when he came in. Actually, I was hoping he would come into my room. "Don't you ever go out?" he asked me one night, late, pausing at my door. "I do, but I don't stay out very late," I said. "We ought to go out together sometime," he said. "Yeah, I'd like that." "Would you?" "Yeah...sounds like fun." But that was the extent of it. We didn't connect to go out together. Finally, I couldn't take it any longer. I had no will power at all to stay away from him and one evening after supper I found the courage to go into his room. "Hey," he said in a friendly tone with a smile. "Hey. I thought I'd drop in and say hello. I've been meaning to drop in but I was afraid I'd be distracting you from something." "Nope. I'm glad you did." "Yeah?" "Yeah A guy can always use some company." He hadn't bothered to get up when I came in. He stayed stretched out with one leg cocked up against the wall, his other leg slung out a little, his huge cock draped down over his balls, actually touching the sheet. I took all this in as discreetly as I could, not much caring, though, if he saw through me. Actually, I was wanting him to. I wondered how he found woman who could take him. With the "Heys" out of the way it was hard for me to come up with anything else to say. I should have, could have asked him about his work or family, but at the time I never thought of it, and I got to the only thing that was on my mind. "It's hard not to notice you're really built," I said. He didn't seem surprised or offended at my remark. "Thanks. I lifted weights in high school and college and my job keeps in shape. You're put together damned good yourself," he said. "Not as beefy as you." "That's in the genes," he said. "You obviously got some great genes from your dad," I said, now feeling free to look him up and down. Hell, I almost ogled him. Then I glanced purposely at his manhood. "If you don't mind my saying so, that's the biggest cock I' ve ever seen." He chuckled softly. "Yeah, my dad had the biggest cock I ever saw till about my junior year in high school and I passed him." "How humiliating." "No, not at all. He was the one who noticed and mentioned it, and he was proud of it." "You should be too." "I guess I am," he sad. "I can't help wondering, do you have trouble finding women who can handle you?" I asked. "Some, although there're plenty of them out there who can. Most are afraid of it, though, when they see it hard." "You know I gotta ask this...how big is it hard?" "You wanta find out for yourself?" he asked jokingly, but I thought he was only half joking. "Yeah...I guess I could." I found myself hearing the words and wondering who the hell had said them. "It takes awhile," he said. "It's so big it takes awhile to get it pumped full of blood. Maybe needs a little help, if you wanta give it a hand." I still couldn't tell how much of it was joking and how much was serious. Was this a normal line of conversation for him or was he seeing right through me?
I could see how it could be normal conversation with another guy like me getting around to the way he was put together. "Go ahead, it ain't gonna bite. It'll stand up for you. It's big. You won' t be able to get your hand around it," he said. So he was serious and I was having a panic attack. Was he actually going to let me touch him? "I don't think I could get my hand around it now," I said. "You can squeeze it and make your fingers touch but you can't do that when I'm hard," he said. I just wanted to touch it. I reached down for it but he grabbed my wrist to stop me. "Hey, I was just kidding around," he said. "Oh." My face felt so hot it must've been beet-red. I couldn't bring my hand back from his tight trip. If he'd squeezed, I think he could have crushed some bones. "Sorry," I muttered. "You weren't, though, were you?" he said with a leering smile. "I thought you...I mean, I was just curious," I offered meekly. "Do you do that often?......check guys out?" He still wasn't letting go of my wrist. "No, I was just curious. I never seen a cock that big." "You're gay, right?" he said. "If I wasn't, that could make me gay," I replied smartly. "I guess you're not sure, huh," he said. "Maybe I'm not." "If it'll help you make up your mind, go ahead, have a feel," he said as he released his grip on my wrist. I didn't know if I should touch him again or not; if he was setting me up. But the fear of what he might do wasn't strong enough to deter me. I reached down and wrapped my fingers around his cock without trying to encircle it. I hefted it up from his balls. "It's heavy as hell," I said. My touch tuned to pulling on it and I felt it begin to come to life. I knew I wasn't going to be satisfied with merely a touch; I wasn't going to let go of it unless he told me to, and I didn't think he was going to stop me now. His cock pulsated through my fist, growing longer and thicker. As it began to harden, the veins bulging as his cock was looking like a gnarled tree limb. It looked so rugged. "My God," I gasped as I watched him grow. He laughed again. I set the heel of my hand into his pubes and his cock towered up through my fist. My hand wouldn't reach around it now even if I squeezed. As if to confirm what I was seeing I wrapped my other hand around it and there was still the head and a couple of inches of the shaft sticking up out of both of my fists. "I don't believe this," I said. "Yeah, sometimes I don't believe it either," he said. "How big is it, in inches, do you know?" I asked. "Eleven inches...eleven and a quarter on a good hard day. It feels like this is going to be one of those days." I didn't think the thing was ever going to reach its full potential till it finally swelled out and throbbed hard as a brick and I knew if it swelled any more it would explode. "Dam!" The head was the size of a baseball, the shaft literally as big as my wrist. It looked like a forearm with a fist at the end. It dwarfed my hand as I moved it up and down. The silken sheath slid easily around the girth and all the bulging veins. There was precome oozing up out of the wide piss slit. I was so awed with excitement I could hardly breathe. I knew that the big, wide slit meant that he probably shot off like a horse. "This isn't just about curiosity, is it?" he asked. "No," I said hoarsely. "I didn't think so. I've noticed the way you go real slow past my door." I was embarrassed. "Is that why you leave your door open?" I asked. "Not really. I just don't like closed doors." "You don't mind people looking in, though, do you?" "Naw, I don't mind. But there's not that much traffic up here except for you and Phil, and I don't think he has any thoughts about sex one way or another. He seems like a eunuch." We both watched my hand working up and down the great cock. I was feeling hot, my mouth was watering even though my throat felt parched. I wanted to suck this monster so bad, but it was so big it spelled failure and I didn't want to fail. I wasn't all that experienced; I only knew that I was attracted to guys and especially to this stud. I was still half scared of him. I didn't know when he would have a sudden change of heart and maybe tear into me. For all I knew he was a homophobe, baiting me. But again, my fear was overcome by my strong desire. I don't know when my mind was made up but my tongue flicked out and wet my lips without my command. He saw me. "Do you want to suck it?" he asked with a grin. I was taken aback by his boldness, but what else was he to think when a guy walks into his room and starts playing with his cock? "I don' know...is it okay if I do this?" I asked as I continued to jack his cock. "Sure, do whatever you want with it." "Really okay? I mean, you stopped me a minute ago." "I was just playing with your head," he said. I swallowed hard as I contemplated what he said about sucking him. "I don't know if could get my mouth around it even I if I wanted to." "A lot of guys say that but they always do." "Do you have a lot of guys playing with your cock?" I asked. "Probably as many guys as I do women," he said. "I think it's more of a challenge to a guy." I was making small talk, stalling. I was afraid I couldn't take him and I didn't want to be a pussy. Just as I was contemplating leaning down to d o it, still hesitant, the pool of precome bubbled up and overflowed and went running down the curve of his cockhead. Instinctively, I went for it. I lapped it up and used it for lube to slide my lips around his cock. "OOhhhhhhh," he moaned softly. I had to open my mouth so wide I thought my jaws were going to lock and I couldn't get even half of it in my mouth "Do you want me to shut the door?" he asked. "It's up to you. If you want to," I said. "Naw, Phil won't pay any attention and Clare won't be coming up." "What about the guys on the second floor? Are you sure they won't come up." "They seldom do but so what if they do; let `em look. That is if you don't mind." I was an exhibitionist at heart and part of me...most of me...was okay with it, although I didn't really want to be known as the boarding house cock- sucker. I went back down on his cock and played with his baseball-sized balls. God, they were so big and heavy. I loved them. He moaned and I was glad I could make him react that way. I was like a mad-dog on his cock, slobbering over a piece of raw meat. I'd never had a cock that felt and tasted so wonderful. Certainly not one as big. "Fuck, that feels good," he said. "You're better than almost anybody who's ever went down on it." As I felt more comfortable with him I used my right hand to explore his muscles. They were as nice to the touch as his cock. I loved the hardness of his pecs and washboard abs and his solid, massive arms. He flexed his muscles under my touch. "Do you care if I kiss your muscles?" I asked. "A muscle worshipper, huh?" "In your case, yes," I replied. "Sure, go ahead. Just don't forget your way back to my cock," he said. "How could I forget a thing like that?" I hadn't considered it muscle-worship before but I was admittedly a muscle-freak and if this was worship then that's what I was. I was weak in the stomach as I kissed back and forth across his wide, thick chest, flicking the nipples as I passed by. He grunted with pleasure when I touched his tits. "I hope you find you way back to my pecs, too, I like for you to suck on those big fuckers," he said. I would give them all the attention he wanted, but later. I dragged my tongue along the thick ledge at the bottom of his pecs and it made he realize just how big they were. I followed the treasure trail down the center crease of his stomach, holding his cock to one side, out of the way. When I reached the bottom of the stack of ab muscles, I moved back up, going back and forth in the deep ridges that separated his hard muscles. His stomach muscles flexed and rolled in the path of my tongue. I kissed every rippling inch of his abs before I moved back up to pay homage to his thick pecs and those big, taut nipples.
I nuzzled my face into his armpits and kissed his biceps. Then I ventured back down. Again, I shoved his cock out of the way and kissed down his hip to his thigh. I dragged my tongue back and forth over the wide, thick-muscled thighs, down to his knees and on down to his feet. "Turn over," I said. He turned over and I started back on his feet. I sucked his toes one by one and he about went nuts. He said nobody had ever done that before. I'd never done it before, either, but his toes were a part of his magnificent body that deserved my attention. I kissed back up the back of his thighs to his butt. He clenched his butt muscles but relaxed them when I dragged my tongue in the crevice that separated them. I pulled them apart and licked the crack, deeper and deeper. He moaned and squirmed under me. I found his hole with the tip of my tongue and flicked it like a snake's tongue. He moaned louder. I pulled his butt apart, stretched his hole and drove my tongue through, way up inside his warm, velvety ass. "Awwwhhhhhh! Awwhhh, fuck, kid....what're you doing!.....I never had anybody do that before!" I kissed up his back and back and forth across his shoulders and the back of his neck. "Turn over if you want me to take your cock again," I whispered in his ear. He turned over and I went down on him as I worshipped his rippling, straining muscles with my eyes. I played him like a fine instrument. I held him off and got him close and backed him off again. "Awwhh...awww, please...don't torture me," he begged. "Let me come! I'm hurting, I gotta come so bad." "Okay, but you gotta let me do this again," I said.
"Yess! Any time you want," he gasped.
"I wanta take your load this time, but next time I want to watch you shoot," I said.
"However you want it," he said. "That'd be great if you wanta swallow my come. You don't have to, but it'd be great if you did."
I worked him up with no hope of return. He was clawing the sheets and tossing his head back and forth and bearing down in the mattress with his heels. His legs stiffened and shook and his stomach tightened like a plate of armor. The entire bed shook as his climax overtook him. Then his cock exploded in my mouth. Literally exploded! It felt like somebody threw a bolt of white-hot liquid lightning into my mouth. It was hot. And thick. And so damned much of it, I wondered where it was all coming from; how any man could produce and deliver so much semen. His delivery was pretty phenomenal, too. The stuff shot out hard, splattering against the back of my mouth till my mouth was full, then it spurted into the swirling come that I held in my mouth. I swallowed once but he filled my mouth again. Before I could swallow again, the stuff started running out the corners of my mouth. I gulped it down eagerly, not wanting to waste any of the precious nectar. Godd, he tasted good!
I sucked him till his body lurched at my touch.
"Awww, stop," he begged. ""I can't take any more."
I didn't stop right away. I held his cock in my mouth and gently gulped it down my throat. I held it there for a long time and he was okay with that. Finally, I pulled off of it and let it fall across his hip.
"Whew!" he whistled. "That was incredible!"
"Yeah, it was," I said. "That load was unbelievable. I can't help wondering how far you would've shot if I'd let it go."
"You'll find out next time," he said.
I spent the next night in Kyle's room. I rumpled up my bed so it would look to Clare look like it'd been slept in, but I stayed all night with Kyle and went back to my room the next morning just to get dressed. It was a wild night. I sucked him again and he showed me how far he could shoot. He lay on his back and I jacked him to the finish but he took his cock in his own hand the last few strokes. The first two shots sailed up and hit the fuckin' ceiling! The stuff clung like glue. He shot a half dozen more that went up over his head, two of them hit the wall and two more hit the head-board. I lost count of how many landed on his face and slithered across his chest and belly.
He looked like he had been white-washed. I lay there on my side with my mouth open.
"My Godd!" I exclaimed. "I never seen anything like that in my life! Shit, you really do come like a horse!"
"Yeah, and now we've got a mess to clean up," he said.
I went to the bathroom and got a wet cloth and a couple of towels. "Don't use the towels," he said. "Clare picks those up and they're all crusty, she won't like that. I'll use my T-shirt."
I cleaned the come off the wall and the headboard while Kyle wiped the stuff off of his body. I stood up to wipe it off the ceiling then waded up the T-shirt and tossed it aside. I took the washcloth to the bathroom and rinsed it out. When I returned to Kyle's bedroom, he was stretched out on his stomach with his head on one arm, like he was asleep.
"Are you going to sleep? Do you want me to go back to my room?" I asked.
"I'm gonna get some sleep, but you don't have to leave," he said.
"Come on, crawl in here with me."
"Should I shut the door?"
"Not on my account. I don't care who sees us sleeping together."
"I don't care either, then," I said.
I crawled in bed with him and he put one arm across my waist and hugged me close.
"We ought rent just one room," he said.
"I don't think Clare would let us do that."
"Probably not."
He moved his hand down over my butt and squeezed the taut muscles that I tightened for him.
"Man, you've got a nice, tight butt," he said.
"So have you."
"You know I'm gonna want to fuck you," he said.
"It doesn't surprise me."
He raised his head and smiled at me.
"Why doesn't it surprise you? You think I go around telling guys I want to fuck them?"
"You did me," I said.
"Do you think you can handle eleven inches?" he asked.
"Eleven and a quarter on a good day," I said.
The End