Prego Stud
By: Tagsit
Chapter One: The Need.
He couldn't get the image out of his head: Justin at the Baths the night before. Fuck! He couldn't concentrate all day at work. It was like when you get a certain song stuck in your head and you can't stop humming it unconsciously all day. Only this was worse because the soundtrack playing in Brian's brain had a video clip that went with it and he just couldn't escape from the pictures he kept seeing over and over again.
He'd already jacked off three times and it wasn't even noon. How the hell was he going to make it to quitting time? Shit, even a blind, deaf hetero hump like Ryder was eventually going to notice if Brian walked around the rest of the day with his designer slacks tented in the front as he rubbed up against any and all vertical surfaces he could find that might temporarily relieve the desire he couldn't stop.
Brian had first introduced his young blond lover to the Baths several weeks ago. That first night, plowing Justin's sweet tight, lily-white ass in the sauna with a crowd of hungry, admiring queers watching, was hot beyond imagination. They'd both cum three times, to the overwhelmingly vocal delight of the spectators, before they'd been sated that night. Jesus, that boy could fuck!
But last night, when Brian had taken the youth back for a second appearance, the scene he'd been treated to was so much more than hot, there really were no words to describe it.
Brian had selected a nice big, buffed-out gym bunny from the available selection and then led the eager man over to his even more eager blond. While Brian stood behind Justin, fondling, kissing, guiding and making the occasional suggestion, the brave neophyte enthusiastically took on the task of prepping the much taller man. Brian loosened Justin's threadbare, white terrycloth towel, easing the material off the slim hips, as the youth effortlessly manhandled Mr. Muscles around and pushed him over the tiled half wall shower surround in front of them.
Brian ripped open the condom package he'd brought along and expertly sheathed his lover's stout, steel-hard dick while the boy caressed the tanned lats and delts of their beefcake boy. Brian found his own hands gliding along behind Justin's, not even aware he'd moved until he saw the beautiful contrast his skin made next to the alabaster tones of his blond and the redder skin of the trick. All four hands migrated without thought lower and lower until they scooped around and grappled onto the trick's nice, thick, uncut nine-inch dick. Brian helped as his tyro blond stroked the muscle man into a rock-hard erection
Then, while Brian watched, transfixed by the delicious sight unfolding before him, Justin pressed Mr. Muscles further over, slicked up his fingers using the conveniently placed lube dispenser affixed on the wall nearby and thrust his fingers deep into the willing pucker displayed enticingly against the grimy white tile wall.
Justin's fingers disappearing so quickly into that eager hole elicited moans from not only Brian but several other onlookers as well. There was a communal gasp and then the beefy trick hissed out a needy 'Yes!' and thrust backward. The well-muscled hands gripped at the edge of the wall as Justin delved into and stretched the tight opening. Brian nuzzled at the ivory skin of Justin's neck, letting his lips glide over salty skin but never letting his focus drift. His own erection was peeping from under his towel, and he indulged himself by rubbing his naked cock lightly against the silken skin of the tempting cheeks of his teen lover.
Yes, that had been stimulating to watch. Yes, it had felt exquisite. Yes, it rivaled some of the best porn he'd ever seen. Yes, he was panting and hard and already dripping from that mere taste of what was to come. But it was what came next that left Brian breathless with an unmet longing.
Justin, the neophyte, the tyro, the very recently de-virginized twink never hesitated for a second. He was a natural. It was pure instinct that drove him. And the sight ate at Brian's very core, causing feelings he'd never come close to acknowledging to surge unhindered through his very soul.
Grasping the well-toned butt cheeks with both hands and spreading them almost tenderly, Justin used his body alone to angle his cock just right and then expertly drove it deeply into the waiting trick. Mr. Muscles groaned in protest but somehow, almost miraculously, the tyro managed to angle his initial thrust perfectly so that he rammed the man's sweet spot on the first try. The moan turned into a whimper of pleasure almost immediately. The husky buff body that Brian was still caressing writhed with the instantaneous pleasure, mutely begging for more, more, more!
Brian stood transfixed. The image of Justin's thick, plump, plum-colored cock penetrating that tight, dark-purple pucker of skin - the tight muscles spreading and the skin stretching around Justin's perfect dick - was mesmerizing. Brian could almost feel the slow stretch, the jolt of pain, the sharp, deep pleasure. Every time the trick flinched, his own body echoed the movement. And, when he saw Justin finally buried balls deep inside that tasty-looking ass, Brian felt a drawing, heady need draining his strength, that he'd never, ever even glimpsed.
That was the exact image haunting his every daylight hour this morning. That view of tight skin stretched around and accepting a full, hot, hard, demanding cock. Brian couldn't . . . he just fucking COULD NOT . . . get that image to leave his conscious mind. The harder he tried to resist the desire the imaged raised, the more it insinuated itself into his subconscious. Was it possible to go insane with mere lust? Brian had always had a strong sex drive. He was a fucking legend of the gay community, for fuck's sake. But, to succumb to this desire . . . well, he wasn't sure he was ready to deal with everything that entailed. Especially not with the far-too-tempting Justin Taylor.
. . . Three o'clock . . .
. . . Four o'clock . . .
. . . Four-thirty . . .
. . . Four-forty five . . .
. . . Four-fifty . . .
Fuck! How long was this ridiculous day? If he didn't get his dick up SOME ass in the next five minutes he was going to fucking explode!
. . . Four-fifty three . . .
His cell phone rang, thankfully yanking Brian out of his impending implosion of lust. It was Emmett. Thanks be to every fucking entity ever known to mankind - Em was calling to remind Brian that it happened to be the twink's eighteenth birthday and the gang was therefore taking him out to Babylon to celebrate. It was the perfect excuse! Brian wouldn't have to admit anything. He'd just show up at the club like he would any other night and the twink he hungered for would just conveniently happen to appear. No losing face. No begging. Not even any mere suggestion that Brian wanted . . . needed, demanded, HAD . . . to see the young blond, would ever arise. Brian could just maneuver things so that he ended up leaving with the tempting blond teen like he had several times before. Maybe no one would even notice that he was, AGAIN, leaving with the same person he'd already fucked way more than his allotted one time.
Maybe . . .
Maybe Brian could get this untenable itch scratched by the erotic young blond.
Really, who would ever be the wiser? Nobody would have to know, right?
Right?
. . . Maybe . . .
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