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crack of Kris’s arse. Kris closed his eyes as he delighted at the touch, breathing deeply in preparation. Harvey took hold of Kris’s bumcheeks and rested the tip of his cock at Kris’s rear entrance. Before entering him, Harvey reached around and took hold of Kris’s balls in his right hand. Gently kneading them, Harvey waited until Kris had grown fully erect before he eased himself in, inch by inch. Harvey couldn’t believe how hot and tight it felt. He halted when his cock was halfway in and asked if it was okay. Kris was enjoying the sensation so much, he found it difficult to reply, but managed to nod his head in affirmation. Harvey then slowly started to build up a smooth rhythm, working a little more of his shaft into Kris with each forward thrust.
    Kris had started to let out little low moans of pleasure. He tried to work out which experience he had enjoyed most—going down on Harvey or being fucked by him. Deciding that both were equally wonderful, Kris allowed himself to become lostin the moment. He was vaguely aware that Harvey’s breathing was steadily becoming shallower and his strokes shorter and sharper. Sure enough, a second later, Harvey sank into him deeper than ever, letting out a deep sigh as he did so. Kris’s arse tingled blissfully as he felt Harvey begin to twitch away inside him. His own cock practically begged to join in the fun. Sensing this, Harvey withdrew from Kris, then deftly spun him around and took Kris’s cock in his mouth. Kris was so aroused it only took a matter of seconds for his cock to erupt. Kris cried for joy as Harvey sucked and lapped at his dick. When Kris was finally spent, the lovers collapsed on the table in each other’s arms.
    Harvey smiled, reached up and ran his left hand through Kris’s hair. “So, still not sure?”
    â€œWhat do you think?” Kris replied.
    Harvey purred coquettishly and pursed his lips. “I think you should stay the night, just to make sure.”
    Kris grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” He was so glad that he had agreed to an evening of gambling with Harvey.

EVERYBODY’S BOY
    Landon Dixon
    I was sitting in the front seat of the pickup with the cowboy. We were parked in a deserted, weed-infested lot on Front Street. The morning sun was just rising from the other side of the river, big and yellow. Everything was quiet, empty, the crumbling buildings and streets still slumbering in the early light. Except for me and the cowboy—we were tugging on each other’s bared, erect cocks.
    â€œGosh, but you’re huge!” the cowboy gushed for the tenth time, his sky-blue eyes fastened on my ten-inch dong, his sunbrowned hand riding up and down the smooth, hot, pulsating length of my cock.
    I smiled vacantly, my amber eyes slightly glazed, tugging back just as tight and quick on the cowboy’s hard, throbbing slab of beef. The cowboy was around my age, young. He had a sun-tanned, eager face, thick blond hair curling out from under his white cowboy hat, and was dressed in a checked red shirt and blue jeans, his body tight and compact. I was wearing atight white T-shirt and equally tight pair of blue jeans, adding to the boyish appearance of my face and body, my soft brown hair cut short.
    â€œYou’re pretty well built yourself, cowboy,” I purred, meaning it. I was getting paid, sure—the cowboy had made the long trek into the city on the strength of my rep—but that didn’t mean I couldn’t take some small measure of pleasure out of the transaction, too.
    The cowboy’s studly prick pulsed in my hand, as I absently and automatically used all the cock-handling techniques I’d picked up in three years of working the streets.
    Yeah, you can jerk a cock with the best of them , I thought to myself: stroke slow and sensual and full length, pull quick and frenzied and short, getting the shaft to spasm to your touch, buffing the cap so that