At the Construction Site
Posted on: May 21, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
At The Construction SiteBy Robbie,The Gay NarratorI work for a firm of Chandlers. Yes, I know that originally meant candle makers, but I am using the modern meaning, that being anything to do with ships, yachts, boats and the like.We had supplied eight large mooring fenders (each one 75cm thick by 100cm wide by 100cm deep to a new office block, which was being built on the north bank of the River Thames just outside London. It was a prestige building and it was their intention to ferry their VIP visitors by river from the centre of London to their offices. We were given a deadline for delivery, which we had bettered and delivered two weeks early. Unfortunately due to a spell of bad weather completion of construction had been delayed and when it came to finalising the moorings the new fenders had gone missing on site. My company had received payment for them and they asked me to make a site visit to see if I could locate them before we set about making replacements.I was extremely impressed as I pulled up outside the building at 11am on Friday morning. It really was magnificent and I could see that no money had been spared in fitting it out.The new owners were due to take possession in a few days time and there were only a few construction workers still on site. I went to the prefab marked “Site Office” and the Site Manager ...
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They Took My Ass and My Keys
Posted on: May 20, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
They Took My Ass and My Keys A fictional story by Theo Kevin was unusually restless this evening. Delivering RV’s from state to state wasn’t an easy task and could at times be boring. Knowing that restlessness could quickly turn to boredom, he knew it was time to pull over and get something to eat and sleep for the night. Within one half of an hour, he spotted a truck stop. Thinking of a hot meal, he pulled the thirty five-foot diesel pusher in between two big rigs. Walking into the restaurant, and seeing all the big-bellied truckers, Kevin knew what his restlessness was. Ordering his food to go, he began to feel stirring a little farther down than his stomach. Looking at all the big bellies covered by tight stretched tee shirts was making him hungry for more than the greasy fried chicken he had ordered. Disappointed that he was too nervous to make any moves, he trudged back to the R.V. and resigned himself to bad food, a quick jerk off, and some restless sleep.Sitting at the table with just his shorts on, and the light from his small laptop, Kevin hadn’t noticed that the original truck on the passenger side was gone and another one was pulling in. He did however, notice when a big behemoth of a man jumped down from the cab. With an audible sigh, Kevin could only stare at the huge trucker standing by his rig. He must have been at least 6'6" and ...
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Class Reunion
Posted on: May 19, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
I had joined one of those class reunion websites and I found out that there was a 10-year reunion being planned for my graduating class. I sent an email to the person who was organizing the reunion, saying that I would like to attend. The response was almost immediate and the bookings for the motel next to where the reunion was being held were all but filled. However, they did have one vacancy left in a room with three other guys from my class. I immediately took it. I only lived about a hundred miles from where the reunion was to take place. So, the day of the reunion, I headed down to the town and was at the reunion site at 6:00 PM. I checked in at the table and was assigned my room next door at the motel. I got my luggage out of the car and headed for the room. I knocked on the room door and there was no answer. So, I opened it and found there was one piece of luggage already there, but no one in sight. There was a list of names on the desk that said who would be in that room. I picked it up and saw Ronald Marsh, Robert Henson, Herbert Armstrong and me, Jason Richards. I recognized the other three guys names and recalled what each had looked like 10 years earlier. Ron Marsh was one of the school’s top football players and was built like a Mac truck. Bob ...
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The New Guy
Posted on: May 18, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
Jack had been driving for 4 hours straight on his way home from college. He was getting really sick of driving and needed a rest so he stopped at a rest stop. He had always heard about rest stops being a bit shady at night but he really needed a break. When he got there he noticed several cars in the parking lot but he didn’t see any people. It was late so he thought it was strange that there were many cars there. Then jack walked into the lobby of the rest stop where there were a few benches and the bathrooms. He noticed a man standing at the entrance to the men’s room as he approached. The man looked to be in his 40’s and in good shape. Jack started to walk in when the man said, “Are you the new guy?” Jack wasn’t sure what he meant so he just said, “Yeah, I’m the new guy.” He was nervous but he was also curious what was going on inside the men’s room. “ They’re expecting you,” the man said. Jack walked in and was shocked at what he saw. In the back of the men’s room there was a large shower like in a locker room. About 8 men were gathered around naked watching something but he couldn’t see what. The men were different ages, probably 20’s - 40’s then one of the men saw him. “ Hey, it’s the new guy, come over here ” he motioned ...
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Brazilian Soccer Team Balling
Posted on: May 17, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
Pete and I had just finished playing a couple of sets of tennis at the club and had sat down at a big table, courtside, for a beer before showering and leaving. Suddenly, five Latin hunks - all bulging muscles and steamy looks - descended on the court. We'd been told that members of a visiting Brazilian soccer team had signed up for the court after us, and I reasoned that these must be that lot. I could clearly see that they were all beautiful, with tanned bodies and broad pearly white teeth, as two of the hunks took to the court while the other three, after asking politely for permission in charming broken English, took the empty seats at the table Pete and I were sitting at. The three at the table introduced themselves as Filipe, Thieago, and Rafael. They told us the two on the court were the team offensive stars, Gustavo and Raimondo.I quickly assessed all five and found all five to my liking - no, to my loving. I could already feel my cock stir. Gustavo was the only blond among the lot, and I wondered if he had some German blood in him. Whatever the case, he was just as heavily muscled and hunky as the rest of the lot.Pete got a little peeved when he said he thought it was time for the two of us to hit the showers and I said I wanted to stay around and watch the Brazilians hit the ball ...
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Inmate Construction Crew
Posted on: May 16, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
I recently bought a big old house in the middle of nowhere in rural Virginia. I had been transferred to the area a year ago by my company, a textile manufacturer, and was offered a hefty salary and bonus to remain there in management at a small plant, which was out in real rural country. The “backwoods” folk took some getting used to, they are friendly enough, but I haven’t had much of a social life. It’s okay, the money is really good. I’m a 32-year-old gay guy who is from the suburbs of a big city. I haven’t had a steady relationship in a long time, there are literally no other like minded men out here but I kind of like the peace and quiet. I exercise by jogging in the country and I am pretty fit, except I think my ass is still a bit big. It has some jiggle to it since I spend a lot of time sitting in front of a computer, snacking too much and making out reports for our corporate office. Anyway, after I bought the house, I knew I wanted to do some fixing up on the inside and it also needed some structural repairs to the roof, rafters and rear foundation. I am not a “manly” fix-it guy, I usually stay in the office ...
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In the Army Now
Posted on: May 15, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
One Army posting took me to a remote area in the southwest, miles from civilization. When a few of us could get away we would hit the closest town, get drunk and cruise a little, looking for some action. And typically we didn't get much, but since it was a long way back to the base we often piled into a motel room and crashed to sleep it off. One of the guys was a little less inhibited than the others and one of these nights as he stumbled out of his clothes he decided he needed some release from the sexual frustrations of the evening. So he stood there by the bed in a fairly cramped room and started waving his tool around, saying things like, "Man, I just gotta get off tonight or I'll bust".The other three of us were half undressed anyway, and just watched him start to play with himself we finished stripping and quickly got hard too. Within a few minutes we had a real circle jerk going, accompanied by guttural grunts and groans of pleasure we sorta cheered each other on. I was having a great time! Steve, who originated the action, had worked as a lumberjack since he was young, and had an exceptionally developed chest and arms. His muscled legs stood out too, as he bent slightly to get into the action. The room quickly took on that smell of man juice as we pumped. Now I had seen a few group masturbation ...
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A Group Challenge
Posted on: May 14, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
My cousin lived in farm country and had a close group of buddies. They were teasing one summer afternoon about how far each had gotten with a girl. That soon had them openly teasing each other about the size of their equipment and making extensive claims about the size of their own dicks. Of course they had all seen each other naked, but they all boasted that their erect cocks were much larger than when hanging limp. As the boasts continued my cousin saw an opportunity and decided to challenge them. He said he figured he could identify each one of them blindfolded just by touching them from the waist down, and that he was willing to make a bet - that if he lost, and couldn'tcorrectly identify all six of them that way, he would give each one of them a blow job. But if he won, they would each have to suck him off! Well, that's a challenge bound to get any hormone-riddled teenager excited. They took off together for a spot they knew nearby. They each had taken off their shirts already during the hot afternoon, and they gathered around in a circle with my cousin in the middle and he got down on his knees. They carefully tied a blindfold around him and each tested that he couldn't see out of it. He then told them to strip completely and gather around him, all facing him.They carefully stripped and sneaked quietly to different positions around him and ...
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Bum Chums Have Fun In The Sun
Posted on: May 13, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
Bum Chums Have Fun In The SunMartin’s palms felt sweaty as he got off the bus and started the long descent down to the beach, and his heart pounded away inhis ribcage. It was like being caught with his hand in the cookie jar; just being in the proximity of "the beach" made him feel likehe was committing some grave sin, but his lust and desire and excitement drove him on.He had been travelling all day: first he took a bus from the sheep station he lived on down to the railway station and from there hada long journey into the city. Then he had to catch another bus outto where he believed "the beach" to be. And all to lose his cherry.At twenty five he was still a virgin and desperate to do somethingto change that situation.He had heard that there was this beach where men went to swim in thenude and to eye each other up. That first time, when he read thosewords, he was so fucking horny he had sat in the outhouse for over an hour and wanked himself silly until his balls ached and his fleshy, uncut cock was rubbed raw. He couldn’t believe that there was such a place:what were those city folk like! But then he had started researchingit on the internet, on his boss’ computer when he wasn’t looking, and there it was with a map and directions and everything. There was even a picture of a guy getting bum fucked rightthere on ...
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Blackmail
Posted on: May 12, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
I was working for a van and storage company. My job was to handle claims, which I was good at; the boss really liked how I handled clients. I had worked for the company for 5 years and each year, because of my good work, I got a sizable raise in salary.We had a couple of office parties each year and families were invited to attend with the boss picking up the tab for the entire party. Drinks, hors d'ouvres and entree's were all included, always at a very nice restaurant.On one occasion, it was getting late and the boss' daughter Meg wanted to go home. The boss and his wife had to stay until the bitter end and since I was a little tired, I offered to take Meg home. Little did I know Meg had other plans for me. On our way to her house, Meg started feeling my leg and made a quite obvious pass at me. I, being an all American boy, did not resist the pass and it ended up with the two of us in bed, having wild sex.A month passed by and Meg called to tell me she was pregnant and because I was the only one she had slept with, she knew it was my child. Meg didn't want to tell her folks but she did want to have the child. I asked her if she wanted to marry me to give the child ...
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A Morning on the Beach
Posted on: April 19, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
The year that I turned 18 was a busy one for me. I had just taken my A level exams at college, and was waiting to see if the results would allow me to go to the university of my choice. I had a long hot summer to wait, and spent the summer living in a holiday chalet that my parents owned on the Norfolk coast. I spent every sunny day on the beach, and in the evenings worked as a barman in a large holiday village nearby.I had a lot of sex that summer, working in a holiday village meant a constant supply of women who considered sex an essential part of the holiday experience, my partners ranged from girls of my own age to well preserved married women in their 40s. However, I sensed that something was not quite right, I made love to the ladies because it was the thing to do and sometimes my conquests were very insistent, not because I felt that I wanted to do it for it's own sake. I was also aware that I was attracted to men, not all men you understand, but some guys really got my pulses racing. I knew that I wanted to explore them sexually but only had the most basic knowledge about what form that exploration would take.One fateful day I walked down to the beach to find a chilly breeze blowing in from the sea. I therefore walked to the end of the long sweeping bay, ...
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Top To Bottom
Posted on: April 15, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
TOP TO BOTTOMfiction from TedEBearHaving been a top for more than 10 years now, I found myself getting antsy to let myself be taken. It has been a long time since I have let a man even get near my ass with a finger, let alone try to fuck me. I do however have a penchant for larger guys, being on the small side myself. To me, there is nothing better than being on top of a big, burly, man. There is no shortage of big guys that love to get plowed either. But, it was my turn to be bottom up, and I still wanted a big guy. Having heard about the rest areas in my area, I decided that there would be no better place to start.It was a warm night and getting toward sundown when I decided to venture out to an out of the way rest area. I knew by the time I got there, that many of the truckers would be pulling in and stopping for the night. By the time I got there, the adrenalin was pumping through my veins and making my cock throb. Parking my Ram 1500 in a dark spot, I scouted the area and saw many trucks already parked. Maybe it was going to be my lucky night. Adjusting myself in my pants, I got out of the truck and decided to make my way to the restroom. Not sure whether it was my nerves or the temperature, I felt it ...
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My Driver
Posted on: April 14, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
It was a warmish day in July and I was on my way to college. I had a man who would drive me through the countryside to get to the college his name was Alec. He was in his 50's and had a chubby belly. It was one of his sexiest features in my opinion. I had never really liked him in that way until a few months before this.He had picked me up in the morning and I noticed he was wearing a pair or tight black shorts. This made me hard and I stared at it for the whole hour I spent with him that morning.I could not concentrate all day in college for the thought of his sexy belly hanging over his tight shorts and his horny ass. I just wanted to get home and stare at them again.When it was eventually time for me to go home I was hugely disappointed, he had put pants back on. I sat there on the way home and then he suddenly said, "This is no use!" and swerved into a nearby lane. We stopped and my heart started banging, why had he stopped? "I noticed you have been staring at me," he finally said."Have I?" I stammered."Yes and I just want to say I like it."I felt really confused; I thought he was angry when he turned in. Obviously I was mistaken."In fact, if you are looking at me like I think you are then I have one thing to ...
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Biker Man
Posted on: April 13, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
Biker Man Story by Richard Barber Near where I live is an old drive-in theater, which on Saturdays and Sundays becomes a big Flea Market. It’s a hot place to cruise, and sometimes I would spot a hot looking dude and when the opportunity would present itself, I would invite a stud over to my place and seduce him. One day while shopping I spotted a guy all dressed in biker leather. Wow! This guy was hot. I couldn’t help but notice his sexy smile under his blond mustache. A set of dark sunglasses wrapped around his high cheekbones covered his eyes. He took off his jacket, and threw it over his shoulder as he strutted down the aisles looking over the merchandise, while I looked over his ‘merchandise’. He wore no shirt under his tightly fitted leather vest that emphasized his muscular sweaty body. There were tattoos on his arms, his upper chest, and torso. He just reeked of sexy masculinity with every step of his trim body. His legs were covered with formfitting leather chaps and his tight jeans hugged his round firm butt. Under his worn jeans his leather chaps emphasized his bulging crotch. In his left rear pocket was the edge of a blue bandanna. Even his black biker boots were sexy. He was hot looking and he knew it. As I stood watching and lusting over this hot looking stud, he reached for ...
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A Mountain's Icy Slide Home
Posted on: April 12, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
A wonderful thing is being a boy standing half-naked, just jeans and nothing else, your bare feet gripping a narrow ledge and you are stretched, your fingertips keep you upright as they grip the edge of the ledge above you.The only thing between you and the night, you and the freezing fog, you and the claustrophobia that darkness brings to mountains and large stretches of land, is your skin.It's freezing cold and your balcony doors are open. Music is pouring out along with the heat in your expensive mountain house. You turn your head and you can see that heat shimmer while it rolls out. The music is the King of Pain, by The Police, and you close your eyes and imagine that blue whale beached by the springtime's ebb, because that's how you feel.You're up and out of water. Where at one time you were in a place where you were beautiful and you could do the most amazing things, you've now come to a place where you no longer belong. The funny thing is it's the same place. The place is beside your husband and you've traded a dry mountain home for a wet one.Gravity transforms the beauty and strength of a whale into a helpless beast. The sun which barely reached him before as the weakest blue tendrils now eats him alive.That's how I felt last night. I was freezing standing there on the ledge of my balcony, but not shivering. The forest, the mountains seemed as small ...
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Happy Eighteenth
Posted on: April 11, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
Walking the streets at night with no destination was hardly how I thought I would be spending my eighteenth birthday. I just never expected my dad would react by kicking me out of the house. It couldn’t have been that much of a shock finding out I was gay. I’m not exactly the poster boy for masculinity. I know he had to wonder, but I guess as long as I didn’t confirm it there was still hope.What sucked most about this whole ordeal was that I barely escaped with nothing more than a handful of clothes and personal belongings. I wasn’t even allowed to get my car. He just threw me a twenty-dollar bill and told me to take a cab straight to hell. I was too angry to cry; besides I wouldn’t have given him the satisfaction.I walked in no particular direction, avoiding contact with whoever passed by. All together I had two hundred dollars that I had to make last until I could find a job. I pulled my jacket tighter around me as a gust of wind shot through my body. I needed to find a place to get out of this cold even if it was just for a little while.The Hilton was the first building I saw where I could go in and sit without being noticed. Inside the lobby was full of people. I shifted my duffel bag from one hand to the other and made my way to the only empty couch. If I ...
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Motel California
Posted on: April 10, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
The Pacific sun felt great shining down on my naked torso. I had the whole beach set-up going for me—sunglasses, towel on the sand, surfboard, sunscreen, and, most importantly, plenty of hot boys to look at. I don’t really get out to the beach much since I live in the city, but these escapes every month or so invigorate my body. Sometimes I get to hook up with a guy, too, and I feel even better. I have a huge weakness for beach dudes, especially the blonde ones. They always have a nice tan to complement their pretty eyes. Every time I go to the beach, I rent a room out at the Motel California just in case I get to take one of them back with me. I’m constantly on the prowl for some new beach twink to take to bed, and they’re usually more than willing. There’s nothing in the world I like more than a young, smooth, carefree, and blonde twink with a big dick. My last trip to the beach was a disappointment because I ended up not bringing anyone back to the Motel California, which was a pretty rare thing. I had to sit on the balcony hidden behind some plants and jerk my own meat while staring down at some luscious young dudes—straight, unfortunately—playing a game of volleyball. There was more than just one ball bouncing around out there on the beach, and my ...
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Do You Like The Taste Of Cum?
Posted on: April 09, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
“Do you like the taste of cum?” he whispered in my ear. I slid closer to him, my hand rested playfully on his thigh. “I can’t say I’ve ever tasted it.” I lied. His tongue slowly licked the outer edge of my ear. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the tingling sensation he was creating all over my body. I opened my mouth and let out a whimper. He placed his hand on top of mine and shifted it to the valley between his legs. I could feel how hard he was. His cock pressed against the fabric of his jeans begged for attention. Gently I rubbed my hand up and down the outline of his shaft. He moaned and moved closer to me, opening his legs so I could have better access to him. I shifted my weight to face him, my mouth searched for his. When our lips met mine instantly parted to let his tongue enter. Our kiss was full of ardor. His lips begged for me to take them. My hands fumbled at the buckle of his belt and he quickly came to my aid. He was just as eager as I was to get his pants off. In one quick motion he unzipped and pulled them down along with his boxers. His thick cock curved up to greet me, staring at me with its glistening head. I licked my lips and dropped to my knees. “Yeah, you want to taste me, don’t you?” he said as ...
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Coach and the Snowstorm
Posted on: April 08, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
This is a story based upon real events and can be considered as totally true. It happened pretty much this way. Like a lot of guys in these stories, I could have lusted after the football coaches if I had had much contact with them, but most of my time was spent with the basketball staff. My lanky frame had taken time to develop into a tall coordinated athletic status but by the time that I had hit senior year, I was doing well as a starter on the b-ball team. And basketball was king. In central Illinois, not far from the hot spots in Indiana where they make movies with Gene Hackman where the little Cinderella teams in Indiana always seem to end up being the sentimental winner….well, we were a little Cinderella team also, and we were damned good, even if we were not in Indiana. The five of us starters played well together, and we had been playing together for years. Our coach was fairly new to the community, not yet thirty years old, and was the Assistant Principal at the high school as well as being head coach for the team. He was also tall, at 6’4”, and very personable. Handsome. Blonde. Muscular. He looked really good in the sleeveless jersey with nice biceps and pecs that were on display when he scrimmaged and all of us guys liked him in our own way. My way included a physical admiration. My Dad was a strong supporter, and ...
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In The Locker Room
Posted on: April 07, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
Ever wondered what being in the locker room with two of the hottest guys in the school is like?When you’re young and a repressed gay man because you don’t think your parents will accept you then you love the time you spend in the school locker room. For me I couldn’t hold my self in wondering what wonderful toned young bodies I would encounter and how I could cover up my hard on at the sight. As per usual we lined up out side, by this time I was already slightly hard with anticipation, ready to go in. I tried to suppress the thoughts of hardcore sex on the benches and against the metal lockers or in the showers and succeeded if only for a short time. Upon entering the changing rooms I was told that because of the heavy rain that morning the teacher would be late and that we should all wait here until such time that he would arrive. Most of the people left to go do other things and of course because I had so much work did the same but as I went to leave I was pulled by two sets of hands round the corner to the showers and a hand put over my mouth and eyes. I heard every one leave and the door shut. After a moment the door opened and I heard the heavy, reverberating footsteps of the normal teacher. "Hello" he said in his booming, controlling and harsh baritone voice ...
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Bending the Straight Student Barman
Posted on: April 06, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
I had not been at university more than three months when I started to get into trouble. Not trouble with my studies, which were going well. Not trouble with relationships; I had made friends of both sexes. No, my trouble was financial; I just couldn't survive on my student grant. In the summer before going to Uni I had worked in a bar, and was hoping to get evening bar work to help my finances. Unfortunately, bar work was at a premium and there were no openings anywhere. In desperation, I answered an advert for a barman in a gay bar in the city. I didn't expect to get a reply but the owner phoned me up and offered me the job, despite the fact that I wasn't gay. "I don't know if you can hack it," he said. "All our barmen earn good money, which they can double in tips. You have to work naked apart from a little black leather thong and matching sandals. I have to warn you that some of the guys will make personal comments, some will proposition you, and some will take every chance to grope your young body. If you let a guy stroke your ass, then he could well slip a banknote into your thong, it all depends on how much you need the money. Being straight won't protect you from wandering hands; in fact it is likely to inflame the guys even more. So if you are willing to give it a ...
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The Other Side of the Island
Posted on: April 05, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
“There, is that better?” Peitr whispered into my ear.“Uhh. Yes, yes. That feels great,” I answered, and my words turned into a soft moan.“Yes, I can feel it in your body. You are a lot looser now. You are moving with me more smoothly. Is it because of the guilt?”“Yes,” I whispered. “This helps erase the guilt. It’s as if none of this is something I could do anything about now.”“I thought so,” Peitr whispered, and he began to move his cock inside me, dragging the head of his crocked dick along my ass canal at seven inches of depth, making my hips join in his motion. My eyes went to the ceiling paddle fan above us, gauging the thrusts of Peitr’s hips against the flap, flap sound and movement of the paddles. I tugged a bit on the two silk scarves lightly tying my wrists to the headboard above me, seeking assurance that I was imprisoned and couldn’t do anything to defend myself. Peitr’s strong, solid Dutchman’s body was closely covering mine on the bed, nipples to nipples and belly to belly. His legs covered mine, and I had my heels wrapped around his ankles. His arms covered mine, and he held his hands around the silk knots at my wrists, giving yet more of a comforting feel that I had no control over this. Only his hips and my pelvis were in motion, as the flap, flap of the ceiling fan above the brass bed moved what air there ...
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Coach and the Snowstorm 2
Posted on: April 04, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
This is a story based upon real events and can be considered as totally true. It happened pretty much this way. “What if I told you that your Coach wanted to bottom for you, and wants that very, very much. Could you handle that?” I stared at Coach for what I thought was a long time before breaking into a wide grin and quietly saying, “Oh yea, Coach, I think I can handle that.” He smiled and said again, “You just do not know how much I want that.” And we drove on home with no other discussion of it, other than the oblique reference to “getting together real soon”. Over the next week or so, we did not have any physical contact, but I wore a constant woody thinking about being with Coach. I must have jacked off several times a day. When I would see him in the hallways or in a classroom, he would always wink, and a couple of times, he groped his crotch while giving me the big eye as well. I would get an instant blue steel boner. I decided to stop by his office to see if we could get something scheduled but was stopped short when I got there. Of all things, my Dad was sitting in Coach’s office and I had this immediate reaction of abject fear that we had been discovered. Coach saw me, and waved me in. My Dad was there to express his appreciation to Coach for chauffeuring me ...
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After Work
Posted on: April 03, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
I was a fry cook. He was a dishwasher. Never was there a better match made. Outside, together we hauled the barrel of used fryer oil to the receptacle. Muscles strained beneath tight, dirty, white t-shirts. Clogged feet shuffled across the broken pavement of the back parking. Streetlamps shone overheard, casting creepy shadows around the parked cars and adjacent alleyways. The dishwasher was a handsome guy. In that heroine chiseled, been around the block kind of way. I noticed him noticing me noticing him. He smiled. I grinned. We reached the receptacle. With a mighty heave, combining the best of each of our efforts, we dumped the bucket’s contents into the large metal bin. Brows sweating, hearts apace, lungs heaving, we shot each other an accomplished smile. His dimples were adorable. So were mine. We saw what each of us wanted in the reflection of the other’s eyes. His lips tasted salty, but moist and firm. I imagine he felt the same of mine. His body was lean, firm. He smelled of detergents and lime. I wreaked of fried fish and French fries. Our scents intertwined. It was not as unpleasant as one might imagine. His bony hips grinded into my own. My cock was hardening. So was his. My hands were on his face, his neck, his chest, his stomach, down his pants, around his cock, stroking him, squeezing him, tugging him. His hands did the same. Soon, dirty aprons were aflutter, and soiled jeans were around our ankles. Huddled ...
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My Freeway Buddy
Posted on: April 02, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
We were traveling at eighty miles-an-hour on the freeway because we were late for a meeting in the Bay Area. Tom and I had worked together for a few years at a health agency and had become casual workplace friends. It was going to take us a couple of hours to get there, so we settled in for the ride. Tom was tall and strong looking, even through his suit. His shoulders and arms filled out his coat quite dramatically. I really didn't know much about him, so I asked him about his life. He said he'd been single for about a year and enjoyed it that way. I'd been single for quite sometime myself. His girlfriend left after she got a job offer in another city. He indicated that because of his work schedule, it had been a dry year for him sexually. I chuckled a bit and said it was impossible to believe that someone as good looking as he would have any difficulty finding someone. He simply smiled to himself and didn't say anything right away.After taking a long look at me, he finally replied that the same could be said for me. Although I am shorter than he is, I still cut a strong figure, as well. He commented that I always looked nice in the office. He said that my suits were always well tailored and complimented my physique. He recognized that the cut and fabric of my suits appeared to be Italian and had ...
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