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

inspired in you a ferocious desire to dominate. “That all right with you, buddy?”
    “You bet,” replies Dwayne, squeezing your hard-on through your jeans. “I’d love that.”
    “That’s what I wanted to hear.” Grinning, you strip, then help Dwayne get naked.
    “God, I love all this fur,” you sigh, stroking his torso. “And god, I love your ass,” you say, massaging his fuzzy ass-mounds, running a finger along the cleft between.
    You turn Dwayne around, then push him to his knees. “Bend forward, over the seat of the couch. Yep, yep, good boy. Wait here.”
    Dwayne nods, all acquiescence. You hurriedly fetch gear and lube from the bedroom, then return. He’s exactly as you left him, bent over, face and torso pressed into the couch fabric, pale light gleaming across his wide back, chunky butt on display.
    “Spread your asscheeks.”
    Dwayne obeys, reaching back with both hands, clasping his buttocks, spreading them apart.
    You think of natural wonders you’ve seen, God’s fine handiwork: Yosemite, the Alps, the volcano of Kilauea, the rocky coast of Maine, the Muir Woods, your own beloved Appalachians. Here’s another, this naked muscle-cub bowing submissively before you, ready to be used. You drop to your knees behind him and stroke his asshole, a wrinkly pink-purple ring half obscured by his crack’s black hair.
    “Spread ’em wider,” you say, nipping one cheek. When he obeys, you press your face into the furry cleft and begin to feast. You tug at the hairs around his hole with your teeth, lick the inner curves of his buttocks, run your tongue up and down his crack. You flick your tongue over his puckered hole, then burrow into him, savoring the musk, until he’s whimpering, pushing his butt back against your beard, wanting more.
    Now for the gear. “Don’t fight me,” you warn. Roughly youwrench his thick arms behind him, binding his wrists together with a rolled-up bandana. You force a cock-gag into his mouth, buckling the wide black-leather strap around his head. You push lubed fingers into him till he’s humping the couch and whining.
    “Ready?” you ask, rubbing lube over your excited prick.
    “Ummmmm!” Dwayne groans, nodding. “Ummmm!”
    You push into him slowly, giving him time to grow used to you. Then you grasp his big shoulders and give it to him hard and fast.
    It’s the perfect angle, the perfect height. It’s ecstasy to be inside Dwayne, your flesh imbedded within his tight, wet heat. It’s one of the finest fucks you’ve ever enjoyed. You slap his buttcheeks, wrap your arms around his torso, tug his nipples and pound him harder still.
    “Like this, boy? Like your Daddy’s dick inside you?” you growl, chewing an earlobe.
    “Ummmm huuuhhh! Uhhhhmm huhhhh!” Dwayne nods and writhes.
    You rock together, a brotherly rhythm older than history. The sight of him, so strong, so young, gagged and restrained… the tightness of his asshole…his excited squirming and muted moaning… Nothing so intense can last for long. In a few sweaty minutes, you grip his hips, bury your dick to the hilt and, with a baritone snarl, shoot inside him, spout after spout of your pent-up seed.
    After a breather, you free Dwayne’s hands, slip a towel under his butt, push two fingers up his ass and work his prostate while he jacks himself. Gasping against the cock-gag, he shoots his pearly wad into your beard, stickiness you rub in, wanting his aroma to linger.
    IV
    You’re alone tonight, your partner Doug out of town on another business trip, Bob and Dwayne too busy with work to drop by. It’s sleeting outside, a raw December night. A candle burns on your Wiccan altar, before images of the Mother Goddess and the Horned God.
    You lie on the couch, watching the wood fire, drinking kirsch. You’re a little nostalgic, remembering your youth, those years of deep loneliness with little erotic outlet, musing on the few men you’ve loved. Muscle-cub Thomas, two decades ago, whom you adored so