Sex in the Sky

A blast of a good time.

It was several weeks later and it seemed that all of their dangers had passed. But Tony was growing more and more restless as time went by. Bruce would pop in from time to time, just to check on everyone. Each time that he did, he and Tony just could not see eye to eye. And of all the time that Tony and Greg had spent with each other, it appeared that Jonathan was the only one that could calm him down.

“Tony…” Jonathan pressed his body against him that morning just before Greg was to go to work. He slipped his arm around the man distracting him for a moment. “Why don’t you and I go upstairs for awhile?” His gentle soft plea washed over the man, who curled an arm around him.

The fun is short-lived when Dorian disappears.

As the twins and Dorian collapsed onto the bed, Jordan pulled up the overstuffed armchair. He settled down into it, draping a leg over one arm and made no qualms about rubbing his hand over his cock. It was hard to remember Gabriele and Lucca were brothers when they had Dorian sandwiched between them.

Dorian was stretched out on top of Gabriele, caught in a heated kiss as Gabriele spread the cheeks of his ass apart. Lucca knelt behind him and Dorian cried out in Gabriele’s mouth as Lucca’s tongue plunged inside him. Gabriele pulled Dorian’s legs up, spreading them more for Lucca.

Gordie fights his feelings, Sam leaves.

The mood was somber when everyone met in the main hall for breakfast. Velvet”s usually jovial nature was subdued, deep bags under her eyes from where she had gone without sleep. Rosebud picked at her scrambled eggs and the queen wouldn”t let little Simon go. It was obvious that the attempt on his life was deeply affecting everyone. Favoring his injured shoulder, Gordie came striding into the room, furrows between his eyes.

“Any word?”

He nodded at the king”s question. “No, sire. We”ve been able to trace the bloodstains as far as the market, but we lost it there. Also, none of the doctors have reported anyone with arrow wounds.”

Tourist neutralizes his guilt on a Caribbean island.

“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 release of 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 was in this dim-lit cabana across our naked, sweating bodies. Beyond the closed louvered doors, the heat and the jungle of the Caribbean island assaulted the small hotel cabana, trying invade our sanctuary. Strange bird calls screamed their annoyance that they couldn’t get at us in our secret hiding place.

A sore back leads to more…

I’ve had a bad back for as long as I can remember. Too much running, golfing and snowboarding led to my lower back being constantly sore. With my new job, I got great insurance that covered going to a chiropractor and massage therapist. I got 12 free massages per year, and after a few months of waiting finally decided to book one at a place close to work. I drove over Friday evening and signed in at the front desk. I was hoping for a hot, young woman masseuse, so I was disappointed when a tall, young blond guy came out and called my name. I thought about making some excuse and canceling, but I was already there, and I did need the massage, so I decided to go through with it. He introduced himself as Steve, we shook hands, and I followed him back into the massage room.

A professional reveals some tricks of the trade.

We both had a drink and he had made the usual small talk. It was now up to me to throw in an appropriate leading question. Something about their bodies usually does the trick. This wouldn’t be difficult. An attractive dark skinned man, he stood about 6′2″ and was lean yet muscular.

“So, what’s your sport?,”

I ask nonchalantly. Looking him up and down as if I was admiring him (Which I suppose I was really!) before continuing,

“Pro football?, athletics?…..”

He takes the bait and jumps right in.

Older man unlocks my secrets.

I was in a real hurry to get to the library: I needed the textbooks. I was a student at the local college and my summer assignment had got way laid and forgotten about in the heady season of long summer nights. When you are 19 years old, schoolwork doesn’t hold your interest for very long.

If I didn’t start work today, I wouldn’t have a prayer of finishing the project in time. I arrived at the library and went inside. The cool and refreshing air-conditioned interior was a godsend. I made my way along down the aisles. I reached the biology section and began searching the racks. There was no one else about which made a nice contrast from the hustle and bustle outside.

Sean takes it in the back seat of classic car.

O”Brien & Son Auto Body was out behind my brother”s house. Andrew and I grew up in there, learning to fix cars with our dad, who was the best mechanic in a two hundred miles radius. People waited weeks to get their cars back from our dad; cars lined up in our yard like it was a parking lot. I”d been away for a long time, writing instead of working on cars; I hadn”t lifted a hood in probably six years, but it only took me setting foot inside the garage to love it all over again. I loved the smell: crank case oil, burned rubber, corrosion, dirt from the floor. I loved the memories, I loved the old advertising signs, the 1960″s packages of spark plugs hanging on hooks, covered in dirt. Most of all I loved The Car: under a tarp, passed down from father to son, the 1966 Shelby Mustang 350 GT. It had the original paint job, black with white stripes, but it was old and rusted out from neglect. Our dad had started restoring it in 1988, when he found it junked in a salvage yard; he never got around to finishing it before he died, and now Andrew was working on it in his spare time.

You want him to what?!

“This work is copyrighted and is property of the author. If gay stories offend you or if they are illegal in your area, leave. Any resemblance to any people alive or dead, or any event is purely coincidental.”

Aurel was sleeping peacefully, curled around a pillow that he pretended was Sebastian, when Mych burst into the room.

“Wake up! We need to get moving.”

Aurel was instantly on the alert. He sat up quickly, running his fingers through his hair. “What is it?”

“Don’t panic. He’s fine.”

The risk of not reading the ad closely enough.

Ad placed by Andre (8 slender inches) and Mike (7 thick inches) in the local weekly newspaper:

- - - -

Power Drills: GBM’s, Strong, hard, silent seven- and eight-inch power drills seek tight BWM or SWM who seeks filled fantasy experience for multiple drill role play says-no-but-wants-yes bottom. Call Mike at 945-6036.

- - - -

Ad Rob saw instead in the local weekly newspaper and decided later to respond to:

- - - -

Power Drills: Set of strong, hard, silent power drills for sale. Multiple-drill set, including seven- and nine-inch power drills. Call Mac at 945-8279.