Men on the Make: True Gay Sex Confessions Read Online Free PDF Page A

mouth.
    “The muscle-cub and the Daddybear!” says Bob, double-checking knots. “Now I’ve got two mountain-man hostages.” Bob slaps Dwayne’s ass, then yours, evoking muted yelps, then works your plugs till both of you are whimpering with horned-up delight.
    “You two keep each other company for a while. I’ve got some computer catch-up to do.” With a broad smile, Bob leaves, closing the door behind him.
    You and Dwayne lie on your sides, facing each other. It’s like gazing into a mirror. You’re both hairy, bearded, chunky men from southern Appalachia. Sure, there are differences: you’re considerably taller, over twenty years older, and extensively tattooed. Your beard is age grizzled, Dwayne’s still ink black. Still, he’s a younger version of you, and that’s part of the attraction you share.
    For a while, both of you try halfheartedly to get loose, though the scene is so hot that you want it to last as long as possible. Struggling just intensifies the heat: to bite down on your gag and moan, to tug futilely at the ropes that restrain you and, even more arousing, to watch Dwayne do the same. His brow furrows; his teeth gnash the rubber bit; his broadshoulders heave; he rolls and thrashes, panting with frustration. That combination—beautiful man, tight bondage—is as erotic a sight as you’ve ever witnessed.
    Soon enough you’re both weary from struggling, both drooling around your gags. Dwayne blinks at you—wide brown eyes, long lashes—heaves another moan, and squirms closer. With cramped effort you do the same. Now your hairy torsos are pressed together, and now your gagged mouths. You kiss as best you can, despite the rubber rod wedged between his teeth and the rubber ball stuffing your mouth. Beards brush, saliva wells and lips graze. You rub your erection against his; you nuzzle his close-cropped hair, his wet chin. Scooting lower, you rub your cheek against the black fur pelting his chest, savoring its soft density, and try to lick a nipple.
    This trammeled make-out session goes on for a long time before you both tire. Dwayne rests his head on your shoulder, whimpers and slumps. Panting, you nestle helplessly together, cocks stiff and quivering. You clinch your ass-ring against the plug filling you, relish your fellow captive’s hirsute warmth and wait for your well-hung Top to return.
    Wind soughs outside the window. The heating system kicks on, kick off, kicks on. The clock on the dresser ticks. At last the bedroom door opens.
    “Damn, you two look hot,” Bob says, striding over to the bed. He’s naked, thick cock erect and swaying. “You two hog-tied hillbillies ready to get fucked?”
    Simultaneously, you and Dwayne grin around your gags, mumble husky affirmatives and nod.
    “I thought so.” Chuckling, Bob unbinds Dwayne’s feet, then does the same for you.
    “You first, Dwayne,” Bob says, climbing onto the bed. “On your belly. Show me that hungry ass.”
    Dwayne obeys, presenting his plump, fur-coated butt. Bob kneads his lover’s asscheeks, then works out the plug, inspiring in Dwayne bereft grunts.
    “Don’t worry. You’ll be filled up again soon enough,” says Bob, adding lube to Dwayne’s hole, then greasing his own cock up. “You boys kiss for a while. I love to see you two kiss.”
    You gladly oblige, edging over toward Dwayne. Again the frustrating, hot-as-hell attempts to kiss, gag-moist mouths mashed together, drool-sodden beards brushing.
    “Fuck, that’s beautiful. Keep that up,” Bob commands, spreading Dwayne’s thighs. Positioning his cock between Dwayne’s buttcheeks, he grips his partner’s hips.
    “You want it hard, don’t you, Dwayne?”
    “Uh-huh. Uh-huhh!” Dwayne moans.
    “Comfort him, Daddy. Getting rammed always hurts him at first.”
    With that, Bob pushes into him. Dwayne gives a pained grunt. His eyes squint shut. His white teeth gnash the black bit. You press your face to his, nuzzling his whiskered cheeks and chin. How you