My brothers secret

My brother Scott was the perfect son. Straight As, didn't come home drunk, didn't smoke, and was captain of the track team. Me, I was none of that. Scott is 5 years older than me and had left for school in L.A. three years ago when I found out his secret. I had gone to the city to get some new porn when I saw the DVD "BiBoys Balling" featuring "Scott Free" aka my brother. Of course I had to get it. Not only was he fucking pussy, but he was sucking cock, rimming assholes, and taking it up the ass. It was awesome. He had also done one straight porn, a solo tape, and two gay videos. I can't tell you how much cum I spilt watching Perfect Scott being Mr. Nasty.

Soon I wanted to do more than just watch. I was graduating from high school this June and figured if I behaved myself, I could get Mom & Dad to pay for a trip to California to visit my big brother. Let me tell you, it was hard to behave, but that June I was flying out to see Scott. I had a chubby the whole trip. Scott was looking good when he picked me up at the airport. It was all I could do not to start sucking him off right there. Back at his place, Scott asked me "What do you want to do, little brother?" You should have seen his face when I said "I want to suck your cock and then fuck your ass!" "Wha..what makes you think I'd do that?" "I've seen your films, Scott." "My films?" Scott was starting to sweat. "Yeah, this is my favorite one." I pulled out "My Brother's Fucker" from my carryon and tossed it at him. Scott looked so sexy blushing. "I..I can explain..." I grabbed his crotch and planted a sloppy kiss on him. When he stopped resisting, I broke the kiss. "I can't wait to hear your explanation" I laughed. Then I pushed Scott back onto the couch.

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Awoken from a dream

When I was in my early twenties, I began to frequent a gay bar about 20 miles from my house. I was very shy and nervous and would usually plop myself down near the bar and not make eye contact with anyone. Over time, I became more comfortable with myself and my surroundings. I would always try and get the best vantage point sitting at the bar - one that allowed me to be seen as well as give a good view of the crowd and the folks coming in. One winter night, I was shocked (and a little nervous) to see a co-worker of mine pop into the place.

Roger was in his early 40's - his look average and very corporate-cookie cutter for the mid-80's, with graying receding hairline and glasses. Roger was always friendly at work, so I called him over and we began a nice long chat. Although there was 20 years between us, I found it very easy to talk to Roger. Over the next few months, we developed a close platonic friendship both at work and socially.

A few months down the road, I needed to move - I wasn't making a lot of money and that time and Roger graciously allowed me to rent a spare room in his home. He offered his home as if it were mine - allowing me to have friends over, blast my stereo, and take control of the tv. The guy had a big heart! Our platonic friendship blossomed and I felt very comfortable living in Roger's home.

About a year or so into this living arrangement, the stress of my job coupled with some family issues I wasn't dealing with resulted in a few episodes of night terrors. Three hours into sleep, I would start to have a bad dream and, often, start screaming or yelling. I would wake up panting and sweating and feeling badly at the thought of perhaps waking Roger (down the hall in his own room) because of this. Roger began to keep his bedroom door on a crack and would knock on my door and call my name if one of these episodes occurred.

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Speed freak

I'm not a bad guy; Maybe a little wild. Okay... a lot wild. I'm a real speed freak! No! Not the kind of speed that you snort or shoot in your veins! The kind you get in a real hot car or on a really hot motorcycle! Anything that goes fast, I love it! Even as a little kid. Used to ride my bike down the steepest and most dangerous hills I could find.

Some people might think I've got a 'death wish'. Fuck that! What I've got is an addiction to that clench in your guts and the racing of your pulse when you're flyin' down the road, clockin' at around 130 mph. I sometimes scream out my passion while I'm doin' it!

Unfortunately, that all came to a halt about six weeks ago. Me and some of my buddies were drag racing out on old State Road 9, way out in the boonies. We'd been drag racing out there for a couple of years. The road is dead at night. No traffic, nobody around. What the fuck did it hurt? Well...the Highway Patrol didn't see it that way. They pulled a sting operation on us. Suddenly, there are fuckin' cop cars everywhere and the next thing I know, my studly butt is sittin' in a jail cell!

Was my Dad pissed! Fuck! I had some real fuckin' second thoughts about just stayin' in that stinkin' jail cell when he came to bail me out! I ain't ever seen him that mad before! I figured he'd fuckin' punch my lights out when we got home. Not that he'd ever hit me...well...not since I was real little and he'd spank me, but he didn't even do that after I was about five years old.

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My schottish lord

"George, my boy, I promise you will be very happy at Court!"

My uncle was hardly making me feel better. I was twenty-two years old, and I had been safe and content in my old home in southern England, where I had been raised. I was worldly and handsome, with long dark hair and a finely chiseled face, but this had not been enough. No: my mother's brother had to see that I accomplished all that he wished me to.

"The King will like you."

I made a face. "He is a homely Scot, from what I've heard, and surrounds himself with more favourites than Old Queen Bess had." Queen Elizabeth I had died eleven years ago, and now her successor, King James I of Scotland and England, was in London with his young family and many male favourites.

"But he is King."

"I am young, uncle!" I argued, looking out of the coach window discontentedly. "I am more than twenty-five years younger than he is! Would you wish me to play the harlot to a barbaric, aging lecher?"

We said nothing more.

London, unlike I had thought it would be, was appealing. And the Court at Whitehall was beautiful. I began to wonder if it would be so terrible here, so long as I stayed out of the King's bed. The thought of cuddling with a Scottish man (whether King or no) held no appeal for me.

James had been King for eleven years, and still the people were unaccustomed to his Scottish ways. As I approached him in the throne room to be presented, I observed him carefully.

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Adam and the gymnast

Eighteen year old Adam Higgins had never expressed much interest in gymnastic. True it was his favorite thing to do in his high school gym class. But, that was simply because it came easy to him. With his lean wiry build and unusually flexible body he was a natural. Still he had never expressed much interest in the sport outside of it getting him an easy A in gym. That is to say he never expressed much interest until he met his father's friend Ricardo.

Ricardo had been boyhood friends with Adam's father, Eric, since childhood. Shortly after graduating high school Ricardo married and moved away. Now at fifty years of age Ricardo had just gone through a messy divorce and was moving back to town to start over, so to speak. He had been teaching gymnastics most of his adult life and when an opening came up at the local university he grabbed the chance to come back home.

The minute Adam got one look at Ricardo he knew he had to have him. He was just the type of man Adam loved. Adam had a thing for older men there was no doubt about that. And Ricardo's dark Latin looks were almost too much for the teen to bear. Ricardo wore his hair very short. It was black but sprinkled with grey. A look Adam found very sexy. He also wore a small mustache which Adam also found very sexy. And at fifty the man was built better than most twenty-five-year olds. He had a lean muscular build from all his years of both doing and teaching gymnastics.

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Train journey to heaven

I used to work in the city. Everyday, the same monotonous journey, bus, train... then work... then train and bus. God, how I hated it! Invariably Id miss the train that would have taken me to the station closest to my house. So Id have to wait, in that dreary, dismal underground station. It was so depressing. I remember the huge, vaulted ceiling, black and intensely hideous, holding nothing but the promise of more depression. Bleak and cold, uncaring and unforgiving, my life was a treadmill of despair.

Sometimes, just every now and again, Id see someone who would brighten up the evening. There were many girls, some of them like models, tall, elegant, blonde hair tumbling down to their shoulders... so slim, so smooth. Sometimes there were guys. Id always fancied guys, ever since school. Id lost my virginity at college with a guy... followed six months later with a girl! Hows that for a nice, well-rounded introduction to the world of sex? Well, although I liked to think of myself as bi-sexual, I knew that deep down, although I fantasised constantly about round, plump female arses, it was the thought of a stiff, thick cock that really drove me wild with desire! But what was to happen to me one fateful night in early spring was to leave me breathless and totally convinced that it was cock, and big juicy ones, that really rocked my boat!

The train was packed, as usual at that time. I didnt have a regular seat; I hated all of that. I just got on wherever I could. This particular evening, I had to squeeze in next to a rather large lady who was festooned with a multitude of shopping bags. She smiled politely and I offered her an apology. It had been raining and everyone was very wet. In the close confines of the train carriage, steam was already rising. As I glanced up, I saw there was a guy sitting opposite me. Older, wide shouldered and rather mean looking, his eyes bore into me with an intensity that I found instantly unnerving. Thinking Id inadvertently knocked him as I sat down, I muttered an apology and tried a smile. Nothing registered in that hard, chiselled face. The glare didnt falter and I swallowed hard. I must have really annoyed him. Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, but unable to move due to the press of people around me, I moved my eyes down and fastened them on my own hands.

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Me my uncle and a cruise

My name is Justin, I'm 21, 6", red hair, baby blue eyes, and very muscular. Enough about me, one day my uncle bill calls me up and says that his job just gave him a good deal on a cruise to the Cayman islands and he has a extra ticket and asked me if I wanted to go with him. I thought about it for a second and was like sure when do we leave. He tells me that we fly down to Florida later that night because the cruise leaves early the next morning. So I pack all my stuff up and drive to my uncle house so we can drive to the airport. I get to his house and he meets me outside. I get out of my car, grab my stuff, and hand it to him. He ask me you ready to go, I respond with a smile hell yea. We both jump in his car and head to the airport.

We finally arrive in Florida and get on the cruise ship. While we are waiting for our luggage to get to our room we decide to go to the room and start unpacking out carry on. While I was unpacking, I happened to look over at my uncle and realized that he has a very nice ass. (Now I have never had a good relationship with my uncle so I don't know y I thought this) but anyway I also saw that he was unpacking condoms, I ask him if he thinks he is getting lucky with some chick tonight? We both start laughing and he says something like that. I get a fuzzy feeling in my stomach thinking damn I wish that I were that lucky.

As night falls and we are up on deck eating dinner, we were having our experiences with sex. Now he knows I'm gay but he doesn't mind that I talk about my gay encounters. He looks at me says well I'm done eating do you want to go and watch a movie in the room. I say sure. So we head to the elevator, hit the down button, the elevator gets to our floor, and no one is in it. he pushes me up against the wall in the elevator and starts to kiss me, now I'm really surprised at this cause I never thought my uncle had any feelings like that in him. But I like it so I kiss him back, when the elevator hits the floor and dings we stop kissing just long enough to get to our room. We get in our room and all of the sudden he picks me up and brings me to the bed. I can feel his bulging cock right next to mine. He lays me on the bed and rips off my shirt, and my shorts, I'm laying in my boxers now. He sits up and strips down to his boxers as well, for a 40-year-old man he has a nice body. He has a six pack, huge arms, a nice set of pecs, and a nice thin trail leading down to the elastic on his boxers, I thought I was gonna blow my load when I saw him.

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Mazolo and luigi

I met Mazolo a few years ago and even we haven't have any experience between us, because we developed a good straight relationship, we have been sharing experiences over the years about our "tastes" of sexual nature.

I met men for the first time when I was 16 years old and since my first time I've had sexual intercourse I enjoyed to "give and receive", even that I've found some guys over the years that have been "in love" with me. I would like to share with you the first time a guy felt in love with me.

It was a saturday afternoon and I was riding by a very popular avenue having a beer in my Jeep, when I got to a red light. When I stopped there were a couple of guys crossing the street, and one of them never lost contact with me, so I decided to turn and come back to try to make a move with them.

When I came over he smiled at me, he was a very atractive young stud, tall, dark skin, dark hair muscular, and the sweetest smile I've ever seem. When he saw me coming back he stopped walking like asking me to come over, so I did we started to talk and I couldn't stay there with all the traffic coming so I invited him to join me in my Jeep, he jumped inmediatly, we exchange looks and I asked him where he wanted to go, and he said that he would not like to lose the time, what about my apartament he said???, uff I said to myself this sounds good enough to have.

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Irish proud grandpa

This here is a proud family tradition passed from Father to Son. It's male bondin' that comes right from the piss slot. Who gives a fuck if'n the studs in our family are filthy fuckin scumbags.

My Grandad was an Irishman, n' fuckin proud of it. He worked his farm proudly, wearing a traditional kilt, sportin the family colors. He was a big beefy bruiser, with Celtic tatts on his arms, back & chest. With his kilt, Grandad wore knee high workboots, n' an athletic t-shirt on top. One weekend he had me come to the farm to help him repair the barn. First thing when I got there, Gramps laid down the law. "Young man, on this farm we show our Irish pride by wearing the family kilt. Change into this now."

Grandad handed me a short boys kilt & a used torn t-shirt. "Grandpa Sir, where do I change?"

"Jesus fuckin Christ laddie, we're both Irishmen, n' fuckin family. Blood kin like us boy, ain't got no shame in front of each other. Strip nude right now, or I'll fuckin strip ya meself." Grandad grinned n' smacked me on my butt.

I stripped to my bike boots & jockstrap. I threw a hardon on the train, n' my jock pouch was wet with the lube juice I was leakin. Top of that my pud was still a bit swelled up. Grandad swatted my wet pouch with his open hand. "Git that fuckin filthy scumbag jock off too, boy. I can smell the fuckscum ya got it soaked with from here." I pulled my jock down, n' my pecker bobbed up, semi-hard. "Hand me yer strap Son."

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Ferry boat hairy dad

Last summer I was in the Mediterranean and I had to take a short ferry-boat trip to an island.

The day was hot and sunny. Having to wait for almost an hour for the next departure I opened the roof of my convertible and got rid of my T-shirt so I could get some tan on my small, smooth, trim body. (I know you hate this part but that's what I am, a 45 year old man with boyish looks...).

While I was waiting in the car line on the embarcadero I noticed an elderly couple just behind me in their camper. She was a thin freckled woman with an attractive Kate Hepburn like weather worn face and unable to keep her mouth shut for a second since she was chatting all the time to the husband.

Oh boy! The husband! HE was something. Peering into the rearview mirror I could only see his face, his upper torso and forearms resting on the steering wheel, but wasn't that enough to set me boiling!

He was the polar bear if there ever was one. White trimmed beard on a pleasant face topped with thinning short white hair, and silver hair with golden streaks on his forearms: lots of it. He wore a short sleeved azure shirt that was unbuttoned as far as I could see and from it fluffed out a forest of white hair like a cloud in a blue sky. And to add to my suffering the man was tanned, which made his white fur look even better by contrast.

I turned back and peered more closely, pretending I was trying to see how long the line was behind me.

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Seduction or temptation

Ken was a tall handsome man in his mid thirties who had faithfully exercised to maintain an enviable physique. He had received his Bachelors degree. Served in the military during the Korean War and had received a number of metals and commendations before his discharge. He returned to his university and earned his Masters degree.

From a very early age, Ken knew that he was gay but because of the circumstances at that time, pressure from society, family and friends, he decided that he had no other choice than to get married and do the normal family thing. In the profession that he had chosen, being gay was not an alternative choice. After receiving his Masters he married a very beautiful lady and they had a son and daughter. Ken had convinced himself that he could suppress his homosexual desires and make his marriage work. He had always been a very devoted husband and father. He loved his children and respected and admired his wife, despite having some difficulty having sex with her, had always had been faithful.

Ken had a position as a University Administrator with a large University. He had worked very hard to achieve the status and responsibilities that he had obtained. He understood without a doubt, that any hint or incriminating evidence of homosexual involvement on his part would cause him to loose his job. Ken was responsible for the operation of a number of recreational facilities on campus including the University Union and the programs and activities that it sponsored. Among these facilities was an outdoor Olympic size swimming pool with diving boards and a high platform for diving.

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