textfiles/sex/EROTICA/T/the-mark.txt

                   The Mark by Mr. Anonymous Pen Name
                   ==================================


The moment he walked into the bar, I knew he was the mark.  The
hesitation at the door, the quick glance around, the bee-line to an
empty table in a dark corner, he might as well have "NEOPHYTE"
emblazened in flashing neon across his forehead.  He was reasonably good
looking, in his early 30s, medium height and build, perhaps a bit
overweight, but still a looker. The indentation around his left ring
finger was as blatant as his manner.

I stared at him long enough for him to catch my eye, and then quickly
diverted his to the table literature.  How enthralling a beer list can
be when the sheep is in the wolf's den.  I took my time nursing my beer.
Didn't want to scare him off.  Let him get used to the place, used to
the idea of why he's here. 

He put the beer list down and leaned back in the chair, trying with all
his might to look comfortable.  I decided I had waited long enough and
made my move before someone else did.  Virgin wool is high in demand and
rather short in supply.

"You drinking alone tonight?" I put on my warm, "hey, good buddy" face.
He looked up and smiled a bit too wide, trying to return the warmth, but
obviously betraying his soul, instead.

"So far." He made a special effort to retain eye contact.

"Well, that didn't last long, did it.  What are you drinking?"

"Bud?"

[Of course.] I flagged the busboy, a flamboyant eighteen year old who's
been out of the closet ever since he could piss.  "Hey Freddy, two Buds
when you get a chance.  My friend here has a big tip for you." Freddy
shrieked.  The mark freaked.  

"Don't worry, he knows I'm full of shit.  I'm Harry.  How do you do." I
extended a hand.  He reciprocated, and we gripped each other firmly, two
men with no doubts about their masculinity.

He donned a reassured smile of relief and replied, "I'm Joe.  Pleased to
meet you."

"Your wife is out of town?" That was mean, but I wasn't in the mood for
pulling any punches.  His reassured smile changed to one of utter dismay
as he realized that he was as transparent as crystal.  Giving in, he
held up his left hand and wiggled his naked ring finger.

"You're pretty perceptive.  Something tells me I'm out of my league." He
started to get up.  I leaned over and put a hand on his shoulder,
gently, but firmly forcing him back in his seat.

"Take it easy.  I don't bite, not in public, anyway.  You just look like
a nice guy who doesn't particularly want to drink alone.  Am I right?"

He shrugged.  I had about 15 seconds to get him to relax, otherwise he
would be out the door in a flash.  I decided to talk about him by
pretending to talk about myself.  All he had to do was listen and
develop a kinship with his id.  Sure it was a mind fuck, but so what.
Marks are always searching for their own identity, and this was a
technique with proven results.

"A couple of years ago, I was sitting where you are right now.  I was
married to a very nice girl whom I loved dearly.  It tore me up inside
to think that I might be gay, and she was the last person in the world I
would ever want to hurt.  I had to make a decision, though. To be true
to myself, or to be true to her."

I could tell from his eyes that I was dead on target.

"I kept thinking to myself, 'Maybe I'm not gay, but how will I ever know
unless I experience it? Maybe I won't like it.  Maybe it's just a silly
fantasy that one indulges in, never meant to signify anything more than
pure lust, not emotion.  But the only way to be sure was to try it.
Just some simple, anonymous sex, that's all."

I paused glancing at the beer list just to tease him and force him into
the conversation.

"...So what did you do?" he anxiously queried, hook, line and sinker.

"I drove fifty miles to a gay bar.  There were lots of bars closer, but
the chances of someone spotting me were too great.  There was too much
to lose if my wife were to find out -- even if I decided I was straight
after all.  I've got to warn you, though.  You have to be careful. There
are a lot of creeps out there, and I met quite a few of them.
Fortunately, I never found myself in a situation I couldn't get out of.
Now, I can usually tell what a guy is like after sharing a beer with
him."

Freddy appeared with the drinks.  Perfect timing.  The mark pulled five
bucks out of his wallet, but I beat him to it flipping a fiver onto
Freddy's tray.  "My treat this time. You can buy the next round."

He paused, worried about the commitment he was making, but it was too
late; Freddy was walking away.  The drinks were paid for, and now he
owed me the courtesy of his company for the next half hour.  Rather than
be rude, he resigned himself to his fate and smiled an "Okay." Bingo.
Another notch on the bedpost.

"How did your wife handle the divorce." He spoke in a sly, 'I can put 2
and 2 together, also' tone of voice.

I smiled, held up my left hand and wiggled my naked ring finger.  Unlike
his, mine had no indentation, inferring that I had been divorced for
quite some time, except that I had never been married.  I let him have
this one anyway.

"See? We two aren't so mysterious." I sipped my beer.  "To answer your
question, she was hurt, of course.  But we had some gay friends who
helped us both through the crisis, and she eventually came to grips with
it.  We both wanted each other to be happy, and we realized that being
married to each other was not going to achieve that goal.  She
remarried, but we're still good friends."

A nice rosy picture.  I couldn't tell him that usually these divorces
are real hair-raisers.  Who knows? Maybe his really will be amicable.

"When I saw you come in here, I saw myself as I was two years ago,
unsure about what I was doing, feeling that I was betraying my wife. But
finally one day I took a good hard look at the other guy in the mirror,
and he said, 'Harry? You've got a problem.  You love your wife, but you
hate yourself.  Number one has got to come first, or you will end up
destroying everything you love.  Face it, Harry.  You are homosexual.
You tried to change it by getting married, but it didn't work.  It never
does.  Lots of folks make that unfortunate mistake, but it doesn't make
this any easier.  What's done is done.  You can't change the past, but
you can change the future.  You have a painful decision to make, but the
longer you wait, the deeper the grave.'"

He was riveted to my reflection.  I was the guy in HIS mirror.  What I
was saying was nothing new, but it had never been verbalized so
astutely.

"I can't tell you how glad I am that I finally made that decision.
There is nothing so satisfying as being honest with yourself.  It was
like being 'born again,' if you'll pardon the expression.  There is a
whole new world outside of the closet, and I wouldn't go back in for
anything.  I'm gay and I'm glad! All the internalized hatred is gone,
and now I can get on with my life."

He looked down at his beer, pondering his dilemma, then mumbled, "I
don't know...It's just not as simple as that.  I mean, I know you had a
tough time coming out and all, and I think it's great that you feel so
good about it, but I'm just not as sure as you.  I CAN make love to my
wife. There must be some sexual attraction, otherwise that would be
impossible, right?"

"Let me ask you one question.  Who do you make love to in your dreams
when you masturbate? Five bucks says she has a penis."

He sighed, then opened his hand, and a crumpled five dollar bill tumbled
out onto the table.  With his thumb and index finger he flicked it into
my lap, then sighed in depression.

"Hey, buddy, you're not alone.  Probably half the guys in this bar have
been married.  The other half probably still are!"

"But how do you deal with AIDS and discrimination and fag bashing and
all that shit?"

"Let me tell you, it's not as bad as you think.  Everything you know
about gay life was told to you from a heterosexual perspective.
Newspapers, TV, tabloids -- they're all on the outside looking in.
They don't understand us so the sensationalize us.  Sure that shit goes
on, but that shit has been going on everywhere to everyone for
 centuries.  It's nothing new.  Just show a little common sense and care
 and you'll do fine. 'Don't walk alone in Central Park at midnight.'
 That's the only philosophy you need to know."

I was making progress.  He was lightening up.  I kept the momentum
going.

"I'll let you in on a secret: sex is one of the best perks of being gay.
You know how women are always complaining that men don't know how to
make love to them? Well, vice versa! Women have no clue what feels good
to men, and unfortunately, men cannot communicate this to women.  There
is no way that they can fully understand a man's needs.  The only way to
know is to be a man.  When a man and a woman make love, sparks fly.
When a man and a man make love, you're talking Krakatoa!"

I looked at him as earnestly as possible.

"Look, you're obviously uncomfortable about this, and that is perfectly
understandable.  I'm not going to play games with you, I'm going to be
very direct.  I honestly find you attractive.  Do you find me at all
attractive?"

That was mostly a rhetorical question.  What else could he say? He
blushed, but squeaked out a "Yes, I do."

"Okay, then.  That's all there is to it.  One night of anonymous fun.
I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy it, but if you don't, no harm done.  We
shake hands and go our separate ways.  You can go back to your wife
feeling a little more worldly knowing once and for all you're not gay.
Hell, it will probably even improve your sex life." I winked at him.
"But I got to warn you, if their is a gay bone in your body, you will
know it by tomorrow morning!"

He thought about it for a minute, then slammed his beer on the table.
"What the hell! Let's do it."

"I like a man who knows what he wants." Of course, he had no clue. This
was too easy.  "I got a place three blocks away.  It's not much, but
it's private.  Shall we dance?" I stood up from the table.

"You lead," he replied as he rose.  He was hard as a rock.  That was
encouraging.  I slapped him on the butt as we made our way out the door,
perhaps foreshadowing this evening's entertainment.  As we went outside,
we encountered two German Shepherds in the doorway, humping like there
was no tomorrow.  I glanced at the mark and winked.  He blushed on
command.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Pardon the mess.  You remember what bachelorhood is like, don't you?"

He nodded and smiled while quickly scanning the living room to see how a
real queer lives.  I always keep the room conservative just for that
purpose.  Don't want them running off while they still have their
clothes on.  His eyes fell upon the statue of David, the one innocuous
item in the room that might imply that the resident was gay...or maybe
just cultured.

"Would you like another beer." I spoke abruptly from behind him.  He
turned around with a start.  I love playing cat and mouse.

"Uh...sure." He smiled his nervous grin again.

I chuckled and put on another warm face.  "Hey, just relax.  Kick off
your shoes.  Make yourself at home.  I'll be right back."

I went into the kitchen and uncapped a couple of imported beers.  When I
came back, he was leaning back on the couch with his feet, sans shoes,
up on the coffee table.  We were making good progress.  I chuckled again
to show him my approval.

"Hey, that's more like it.  Here's your brew.  You like music?" Another
rhetorical question, but it was important to explain every action, even
one as harmless as turning on the stereo, so as not to overwhelm.  He
was hooked, but not yet reeled in.  If I moved too fast, he could wiggle
loose and escape.  Neither of us wanted that.  I kicked off my shoes and
sat down next to him.

"So what do you think of my humble abode." A neutral topic.

"It's very nice...very tasteful." How original.

"Yeah, it's not Buckingham Palace, but it'll do.  The neighbors can get
rowdy, sometimes.  We take turns banging on the wall.  But we're all
pretty friendly...more so than most condos, I expect."

I casually put my arm around his shoulder.  He tensed up then jerked
forward.

"Look...maybe this wasn't such a good idea.  I think I had better go."
He reached for his shoes.  Damn! He's getting away.  Do something!

I stood up and maneuvered between him and the door, speaking firmly and
direct.

"Look, Joe.  I don't want to force you to do anything you're not ready
for, honest.  But believe me, I know what you're going through.  I'm
just trying to help.  I'm not sure, but I'm guessing that it took you
about a month to get up the nerve to walk into that gay bar this
evening, am I right?"

He lowered his shoes.  "Two months."

"Okay, two months of ulcerously agonizing conflict.  And this evening
you succeeded...you took the first step...you entered a gay bar as a gay
patron.  Come to think of it, you took the first three steps: you
entered a bar, got picked up, and went to another guy's place all on the
first try.  Shit, as far as your peers go, you're way out in front, and
that's great!"

He stared right through me, perplexed.  I was making sense, but he
needed more convincing.

"I know it takes some people longer to make this decision than others.
To tell you the truth, I didn't sleep with the first three guys who
picked me up.  The guilt would never let me do it.  But Joe, please
listen to me when I tell you, the guilt does not go away when you walk
out that door. You know why? Because the guilt you're feeling is not the
guilt of betrayal to your spouse.  It is the guilt of betrayal to
yourself.  Please, please believe me.  If you walk out now, you will not
be free.  You will be back in that bar after another two ulcerously
agonizing months.  But this time, I might not be there for you.  And, if
I do say so myself, you were pretty lucky that I was there today.
You'll have to trust me on this.  I know you don't know me from Adam,
but I just don't want to see you go through the hell that I went
through.  The road to self realization is full of a lot of potholes, my
friend."

I put a hand on his shoulder.  He looked up into my eyes.  It was
working.

"You are a sensitive, intelligent, principled guy.  And I really do find
you attractive."

He smiled, somewhat embarrassed and flattered at the same time.

"There is the door.  You can leave anytime you want.  But before you go,
all I ask is that you take just one more step." I looked deep into his
eyes. "Let me kiss you.  That's all I ask.  If you can't deal with that,
then go with my blessings." He was trembling, but I knew he wanted to do
this.  I slowly approached him, our eyes locked together.  I tilted my
head slightly to the right, and gently brought my lips to his.  He
closed his eyes.  I put my arms around him.  He dropped his shoes and
hugged me back.  Success! Together we hugged hard and kissed hard with a
passion worthy of _Gone With The Wind_.  I flicked my tongue out briefly
touching his lips just to see what would happen.  He responded by
inserting his tongue deep into my mouth, probing all around, reaching
for my tonsils.  I pressed my groin against his.  He pressed back and
rubbed against me, our throbbing cocks separated by an eighth of an inch
of fabric.  At long last I had him in the boat, and now I was going to
have fish for di nner.

We broke apart gasping for breath.  Then we both started to laugh.  I
put my hand tenderly back on his shoulder.

"Wow! That was a mighty big step.  Neil Armstrong's step was mouse nuts
compared to that! Did you feel the earth move, too?"

"It WAS pretty good, wasn't it." He was opening up, like a flower
greeting a new dawn.  "This is amazing! I actually did it! I got to
first base with a man! My god, I think I'm in love!!" He collapsed on
the couch, laughing and grinning with pride over his accomplishment.  I
joined him.  I knew he was confusing the exhilaration of the moment with
love, but I thought I'd take advantage of it anyway.

"See? It ain't so bad.  We didn't get struck by lightning.  The walls
are still standing.  Everything's just fine.  We're just two guys
enjoying each other's company.  What could be more wholesome than that?"

He burst out in a fit of infectious laughter.  I couldn't help giggling
myself.  I was really starting to like the guy.

"First base! Man I haven't heard that since junior high.  What are we, a
couple of prepubescent teenagers necking under the bleachers!?"

His laughter doubled its intensity.  He was turning red and tears were
forming.  I let him wind down by himself.  I didn't want to kill him.
Eventually, he caught his breath, and wiped the tears from his cheeks.

"How do you feel?" I probed his mind, trying to get him to express
himself.  It is always much more convincing when the words came out of
the mark's mouth instead of mine.

"Fantastic, like a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders! I have
waited so long to do that, and it was better than I had imagined!"

He turned to me in earnest, then gave me a bear hug.  His ice was
melting faster than a Death Valley snowman.

"Thank you so much for your encouragement.  I would never have gone
through with it otherwise."

He pulled back, paused while gazing longingly into my face, then
initiated another hard, wet, passionate kiss.  I moved a hand down to
his crotch and massaged him while our tongues tangoed.  He moaned with
desire, slowly bucking his hips against my hand.

"I want you," he whispered.

"I'm yours," I responded, then leaned him back on the couch, our faces
still locked together.  "We'll take it nice and slow.  Anything you want
to do.  Anything and everything.  This will be a long magical night you
will never forget." I had him lying flat on his back and I was on top.
We ground our hips together doing a prostrate lambada on the couch.  I
knew that once I had him worked up to a frenzy, he would let me do
anything to him.

We continued in this vein for several minutes.  I did not want to rush
him just to be safe, but mostly because we were both thoroughly enjoying
it.  He had two months of flaming desire bottled up inside, and I needed
to vent it gradually.  But now it was time to move on to bigger and
better things.

"Shall we depart to the boudoir, lover?"

"I thought you'd never ask," he said.

I smiled, terminated the necking with a loud smack, then got up.  I held
out a chivalrous hand to assist him, and then we walked side by side to
the bedroom with our arms around each others waists, the epitome of
puppy love.  When we got to the bedroom, I had him stand at the foot of
the bed.

"I want to undress you," I whispered as I gently unbuttoned his shirt.
I slid my hands into the slit between his open shirt and caressed his
smooth chest as I worked the shirt over his shoulders and down his arms.
His chest heaved as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes in
ecstasy.  At long last a man was touching him.  I kissed his neck and
massaged his naked back, then blazed a trail of gentle kisses to his
left nipple.

"Oh god..." he moaned as I sucked and played with it with my tongue,
then continued on down.  I swirled my tongue inside his navel causing
him to inhale deeply as if he were smoking a joint.  He brought his head
forward to watch my action for a moment, then tilted it back again.  In
his state he was having some difficulty keeping his balance, but the bed
was right behind him in case his knees buckled.

When my lips reached his belt buckle, I knelt down on the floor to get
into a more comfortable position, my mouth inches from his cock.  I
carefully unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his fly and then slowly slid
his pants down to his ankles, caressing his legs all the way down.  An
awkward moment passed as he stumbled out of his pants and socks, but he
soon resumed his stance.  He stood in his jockey shorts, an
average-sized pulsating prick could be seen through several wet spots,
yearning to be released. I ran my hands slowly up the outsides of his
legs past his shorts and halfway up his torso, then brought them back
down again, hooking my thumbs into the waistband and dragging his shorts
down to the floor.  He stepped out of them more gracefully, and once
again resumed his stance.  I sat back to behold him, completely naked
with his cock jutting out and slightly up, its head slimy with precum.
My mouth was watering.

I leaned forward and ran my hands up the backs of his legs while I
exhaled onto his groin.  When my hands reached his buttocks, I cupped
them and began squeezing and kneading.  At the same time, I placed a
kiss on his pelvis, just to the left of his cock, and let the side of it
rub against my cheek.  As I dragged my lips toward it and kissed his
cockroot, he shuddered and moaned, almost collapsing, but managed to
hold on.  I continued kissing along the side of the shaft toward the
purple fireman's helmet, o ccasionally flicking my tongue out to
momentarily cradle the sensitive skin underneath, like a lizard tongue
darting for a fly.  As I reached the tip, I turned to face it head on
and then slowly engulfed it all the way to the root.

"Ohhh...yeeesss," he hissed as my nose ground into his pubic hair, but I
did not linger there.  This was meant to be just a quick taste of things
to come.  I pulled back as slow as I had swallowed him, then continued
kissing along the other side of his cock back to its root.  I leaned
back and looked up at him.  He tilted his head forward and met my gaze,
his eyes took a while to focus as he returned to reality.

"That was incredible! I could never get my wife to do that.  She seems
to find it so revolting."

"I can't get enough of it," I said as I stood up and kissed him on the
mouth.  "And we haven't even begun."

As we kissed, he frantically reached for my shirt, pulled it out of my
pants and up and over my head, demanding, "I want you naked NOW!" He
scrambled for my belt, but was clumsy in his rush to strip my clothes
off.  It would have been a lot quicker if I undressed myself, but I let
him have his fun and stroked his hair while he unclasped my pants,
pulled down the zipper, and yanked my pants to the floor, revealing my
bulging black bikini briefs.  He gasped at the sight of them (works
every time).  I deftly stepped out my pants, kicked them under the bed,
and then posed for him in a scene that had just been played with the
roles reversed.  His hands shook as he reached up and curled his fingers
over the top of my briefs, then slowly pulled them down, lowering my
cock like a drawbridge.  His eyes were fixed on the hypnotic motion of
my cockhead as he pulled my briefs down to the floor and I stepped out
of them.  I am sure that it was the first real 3-dimensional hard-on he
had ever seen, other than his own.

Without warning, he grabbed hold of my butt cheeks, jerked me forward
and tried to stuff my cock down his throat.  But he was too eager and
inexperienced, not to mention my cock had a couple of inches on him, and
he started to gag when I was only about halfway in his mouth.

"Hold on, take it easy.  Deep throating takes concentration and
practice. Once you learn how to open your throat, you'll be able to
swallow my cock AND my balls to your heart's content.  But for now,
let's just take it slow and steady, okay? I don't want you to hurt
yourself."

He let go and looked up at me like a puppy so eager to please.  I smiled
down at him.  [That's a good dog.  Obey your master and perform your
tricks, then maybe you'll get a reward.] I led him to the bed and laid
him down on his back, then turned around and straddled him on all fours,
giving him a clear view of my ass and balls.  The full length closet
mirror easily reflected our profile.  It was time for Cocksucking 101.

"The '69' position is the best for learning how to deep throat.  By
tilting your neck back, you can make the angle of your mouth and throat
curve in the same direction as the cock you're about to devour.  But
before you start, close your eyes, and try to imagine yourself as a
sword swallower, taking inch after inch of a razor sharp blade down your
gullet. As long as your throat is open, the blade will not harm you, but
flinch for a second and your throat is slashed from the inside."

I closed my eyes and demonstrated for him, swallowing his sword with
ease until my nose was buried in his scrotum, then pulled all the way
out. He watched intently in the mirror, wanting desperately to learn his
first trick to delight his master. 

"Once you get the feel of it, you can control your throat muscles so
that it becomes almost second nature."

I started rapidly mouthfucking him, repeatedly engulfing him to the
hilt, then pulling almost all the way out.

"Oh, shit, that feels so good! Yes! Fuck me with your mouth! Swallow
that rock-hard dick!!"

I started to heat things up a bit by exhaling hot breath on the forward
stroke, then dragging my teeth on his tender flesh while pulling back.
That set him off like a bronco.  He grabbed my ass to hold on while
bucking and thrusting in unison with me.  His balls tensed up.  He
wasn't going to last much longer.

"I'm coming...oh god I'm coming...I'm going to shoot my wad down your
throat..."

I pulled away and firmly squeezed the base of his cock.  He bucked in
protest, trying in vain to continue the stimulation, but his oncoming
orgasm was choked off.  He was frustrated to the point of tears.  My
sadistic side was amused, but I also felt sorry for him.  This was a
necessary evil, like rabies shots: difficult to explain to a puppy, but
all for the best.

"What are you doing! I was coming!! I wanted to come so bad..."

"Not yet, my friend, not yet.  I don't expect you to understand right
now, but I assure you, you don't want to come yet.  The longer you hold
out, the more intense it will be when it finally does happen.  Trust me,
it's worth it."

He looked at me with his puppy eyes.  He was playing his role perfectly!
I had his complete unguarded trust.  I could do anything to him.  I
brushed his face with my hand and gazed into his eyes wearing my 'father
knows best' face in order to bring him down gently.  He inhaled a deep
surrendering sigh and smiled back at me.  We nuzzled a bit, then kissed
for several moments.  

"Are you okay?"

He smiled and nodded.

"Care to show me what you have learned?"

He nodded again and his eyes grinned as he got up enthusiastically to
exchange positions.  I got down on my back and he climbed on top as I
had done, presenting me with his white virgin ass (that would be
rectified later).  He carefully adjusted his position, occasionally
glancing into the mirror to make sure he was getting it right, then
crouched down and contemplated the sword before him.  He closed his eyes
and opened his mouth, concentrating as I had instructed. 

"Imagine the sword slowly gliding down.  You want to swallow it.  You
need to swallow it.  Swallow it whole...all the way down until there is
nothing left."

His lips enveloped my cockhead.  I watched as it slowly disappeared into
his head.  When it reached the back of his throat he started to gag
again.

"Don't force it.  Just hold there for a moment.  Wait for the gag reflex
to wane.  Just keep thinking, 'I want to do this...I need to do this.'"

He held his position as he was told.  He was concentrating so hard I
almost laughed, but I had to admire his determination all the same. He
took a few deep calming breaths through his nose, then pressed on. I
felt my cock enter his throat with no resistance.  He learned very
quickly.

"That's it.  You've got it.  All the way down.  Take it all the way."

I watched my entire cock disappear from view.  He had taken it all but
continued to press on, concentrating so hard that he did not realize I
had nothing more to offer.  He opened his eyes, apparently confused as
to why he was encountering resistance.  A sidelong glance at the mirror
showed him why, and the corners of his mouth spread with a grin.

"There ain't no more, my friend.  I sure wish there was, but their
ain't. You ate the whoooole thing.  Man, you are one champion
cocksucker.  I'm impressed."

He smiled and snickered, gripping my cock in his throat like a trophy,
gloating over its capture.  He held it there, trying to get used to the
sensation in order to master control over his gag reflex.  I was
beginning to wonder if I would ever get it back, but he earned it, so I
let him keep it for a while.  I took the opportunity to play with his
balls dangling in front of my face, easily within tongue's reach.  I
gently blew on them to clue him in on my intentions.  (To surprise him
now would not be a wise move!) He acknowledged by wiggling his butt,
causing his balls to bounce around as they hung low in their sac.  I
tilted my head forward and jabbed at them with my tongue, like a boxer
working a punching bag.  I felt a tightening around my prick as he
momentarily lost his concentration, but he regained it quickly and
relaxed his throat muscles again.

I was amazed at his will power.  My first cocksucking experience was
nowhere near as challenging as this: a six inch dildo.  Yet it still
took me a week before I was able to get it down without choking.  This
fellow had a lot of hidden talent, and I was eager to find out what else
he could do.  I hooked my tongue underneath his balls and pulled them
into my mouth, then gently sucked on them, basting them with warm
saliva, which caused him to moan in a low monotone.  The vibration of
his vocal cords shot through my prick, startling me with a fantastic
sensation I had never felt before. I grunted and let go of his balls,
afraid I would lose control and bite him.  My head fell back on the bed
and I started moaning myself.  He knew what was happening, and continued
with his low humming, while slowly working his head back and forth.  His
strokes were short at first, as he adjusted to the new sensation of cock
motion in his throat.  But again, it didn't take him long to achieve pro
status, and pretty soon he was driving forward at full tilt, rocking
back and forth on his hands and knees, holding his head steady, taking
cock all the way up to the balls then all the way out again.

Normally, I kick back when a guy gives me head, and can make it last as
long as I want.  If I feel like I'm going to come too soon, I just think
of baseball or taxes, and the feeling goes away.  But his vibrating
vocal cords coupled with his expert cocksucking made it impossible for
me to think of anything else.  I opened my eyes, looking for something
in the room to distract me.  The first thing I saw was a reflection of
two naked guys having a damn hot time on the bad.  That didn't help.  I
turned and looked up.  Two hairless glistening balls swung in a wide arc
overhead. That was enough for me.

I gripped the bedsheets and blasted his throat.  He stopped humming and
rocking, somewhat surprised at the sudden turn of events, then smiled
and started up again while greedily gulping down my load.  Each swallow
coaxed another spasm, and each spasm another swallow.  It was a
wonderfully vicious circle that had no end, and he didn't miss a drop as
he emptied my balls.  But, of course, it eventually did end, and as my
spasms died down, so did his rocking until we both gradually came to a
stop.  He gripped the base of my prick tightly with his lips then slowly
pulled back, squeegeeing its entire length clean and forcing out any
remaining cum like toothpaste out of a tube.

He turned around, laid on top of me, then kissed me, letting my own cum
enter my mouth.  I accepted his offering and wrapped my arms around him,
kissing him long and hard.  Now I was in love.  When we eventually broke
apart, he brought his head up and glared at me, expecting an evaluation.
I gave it to him.

"Joe, please don't take this the wrong way.  I know this was your first
time and everything, but you can't expect to always move mountains.
Everything takes practice, and with time I'm sure you will improve.
Today was a pretty good start, but I just want to say, and again I mean
this only as purely constructive criticism from teacher to student, that
I am fairly certain, though not absolutely positive, that what has just
transpired here today, was, in fact, for all intents and purposes, the
best goddamn mutherfucking ballblasting blowjob I have ever had."

He started to laugh, though I'm pretty sure he already knew it.  He was
obviously as skilled with his mouth now as I was, probably better. The
only way to save face was to tease him.

"You completely took me by surprise, my man.  I'm sorry I came without
warning, but you were just too hot! Come on, be straight with me.  You
do this for a living, don't you.  You're a gigolo! I knew it! How much
do I owe you? A hundred? Two hundred? All right, a thousand, but that's
my final offer.  Come here you little cocksucker, you deserve a spanking
for making me come too soon."

I swung an open hand down to his ass, but he blocked it with his arm and
pinned it to the bed, catching me off guard.  I accepted the challenge.
We wrestled on the bed for several minutes, laughing and sweating.  We
were pretty evenly matched, neither staying pinned for very long.
Ultimately we both collapsed onto our backs from exhaustion.  I reached
for his still erect cock and held it like a microphone.

"Testing...one two three...is this thing on? Hello? ...And now I would
like to get serious for a moment.  Could we have the lights dimmed
please. Thank you.  This next ballad was written for someone who is very
kind, warm, and dear to my heart, and never fails to get the bedsheets
sticky. It goes something like this:

   'Sit on my face, and tell me that you love me.

    I'll sit on your face and tell you I love you, too.

    I love to hear you moralize,
    
    When I'm between your thighs, you blow me away...'

That's all I can remember, thank you."

He applauded.  "Bravo! Bravo! Encore! Author! Awful!"

I bowed.  "Thank you, thank you very much.  You are too kind, really."

He reached for my cock, it had not yet recovered from its earlier
vacuuming.

"I bet I can get you hard again," he winked.

"Of that, I have no doubt.  You're full of too many surprises, lover." I
wasn't sure what he had in mind, but was eager to find out.  After a
particular good cum session, I usually don't recover for about 45
minutes. He had a challenge in front of him, but I didn't let him know
that.

He turned me over onto my stomach and brought my knees forward into a
crouched position with my legs somewhat spread apart.  Then he put a
couple of pillows under my stomach to provide support and to prop up my
ass.  My cock and balls dangled in the air.  I looked like a bitch in
heat.

"I want you to close your eyes, kick back and relax.  Let me do all the
work."

I did as he asked.

A minute went by.  Nothing happened.

I opened one eye and stole a glimpse in the mirror.  He was behind me,
resting on his elbows, apparently enjoying the view.  He caught me
looking at him.

"Come on, don't worry about me.  Just close your eyes, relax and
experience."

I obeyed.

Two minutes went by, still nothing.  I started to feel a sensation in my
cock, that pleasant ache one gets when one's spent cock is titillated
back to life too soon before it has completely recovered.  I knew his
game now: genital sensory deprivation and anticipation.  It was working
like a charm.

But I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of such an easy victory,
so I started to cheat.  [Deductible mortgage interest: $950 times 12
months is, lets see, 10 times 950, plus 2 times 950, or 9500 plus 1900,
equals $11,400.  Ten percent interest is $1,140...] My cock held its
own.  It didn't go back down, but I was able to halt its expansion for
the moment.

[Car registration: $104 minus $24 registration fee leaves $80 deductible
miscellaneous property taxes.  Business expenses: 50% of $120 for
printer paper and computer supplies equals...Shit, my balls are
tingling.  What the hell is he doing back there?] He succeeded in
breaking my concentration by opening his mouth real wide and bearly
exhaling onto my balls, not enough to create a breeze, but enough to
make them feel unusually warm.  I could sense the heat of his face so
close to my ass, yet not touching it.  The ache in my dick came back
full throttle.  I gave in to the inevitable, and decided to enjoy the
sensations instead of fighting them.

The heat moved from one side of my balls to the other, lightly brushing
my pubic hair just enough to make my ballsac involuntarily convulse, but
not enough to actually make contact.  What a tease.  My cock was
pounding in 30 seconds.

Then I felt something wonderfully warm on my perineum, and shuddered as
he moved a wet tongue around that remarkably sensitive spot right
between the base of my balls and my asshole.  The warmth spread out as
he moved his tongue down the middle of my ballsac, hotly exhaling all
the way down until his tongue reached the underside of my balls and
lifted them, balancing a testicle on either side.  He bobbed his tongue
up and down as if to see which one weighed more.  I was going nuts.

Suddenly my balls were on fire.  I gasped and open my eyes to see what
was going on.  His mouth had completely engulfed them.  His lips pinched
them off at the base, like a fish swallowing a baited hook.  He wasn't
sucking or licking them per se, just heating them up.  How could such a
simple technique be so intense?! I've had my balls nibbled before, but
they never burned like they did now.  This guy wasn't human.

I felt my captured balls get pushed around by an interrogating tongue,
and then considered the incredibly vulnerable position I was in: I
didn't dare move a muscle or intimidate him in any way, as a quick snap
would shear them off completely.  Yet, the situation was so intensely
erotic!

He released his captives and gently blew on them.  My balls rapidly
changed from fire to ice and began to contract.  It is odd how two
opposite extremes can produce the same sensational results.  I couldn't
put it off any longer.  I reached down for my cock and started stroking.
He grabbed my hand and pulled it away.

"No you don't.  Wait for it.  Trust me."

I sighed in frustration, but it was only fair.

Again I felt a hot spot on the back of my balls slowly rise up the sac
to its base.  But it continued on up past my perineum until it reached
my puckered asshole.  The hot spot spread as he worked my ass with his
marvelous mouth, opening up as wide as he could to heat up the largest
area.  I groaned with approval.  His tongue encircled the sensitive
outer flesh like a honeybee assessing an aromatic rosebud.  The bee's
stimulating dance coaxed the rosebud to open, and he spiraled into a
dive bomb.  The rose unfolded, welcoming the bee's intrusion, eager to
be polinated.

He pressed his face hard against my ass as his tongue achieved amazing
penetration, probing and prodding my inner rectum.  My whole body
tingled with this man's presence.

Then his tongue withdrew and was quickly replaced by a wet finger.  He
pushed it in slowly, twisting it as it entered until it would go no
further, then rotated it around, feeling the smooth moist membranes
within.

"This was always my favorite part of a physical exam," I sighed, letting
him know I was still alive.

"Mine too," he replied, "especially this part."

He pressed down on my prostate gland and started vibrating his finger.

"Jeezus!! Oh man! Oh shit!! Oh fuck!! Fuck!! FUCKING A!!!" He had me
writhing in ecstasy.  I was his finger puppet and he was pushing all the
buttons.  "Gawd! Me so horny! May I please jerk off now?"

"Not yet.  Soon."

He pulled out his finger, then paused, for a moment to let me come down.
I let out a deep relaxing sigh, then a dagger ripped through my spine.

"Holy shit!! What the fuck are you doing..."

He was instantly on top of me, supporting his weight with his left arm
on the bed while hugging my waist with his right and corkscrewing my ass
with his dick.  I tried to maneuver, but in my current position and with
his weight on top of me, I could not get any leverage.

"Don't fight it.  Go with it."

He had orchestrated the perfect ambush, taking me completely by
surprise. It seemed obvious now that his foreplay was designed to
lubricate my ass and loosen me up, but I never saw it coming.  His
sexual repertoire was indeed diverse, ranging from a tender embrace to
bestial rape.  Perhaps, I was the one who was really out of his league.

Fear and surprise gave way to animal lust, and I decided to take his
advice.  I relaxed my butt muscles and started thrusting in sync with
him but in the opposite direction, pushing back as he entered me and
pulling forward as he withdrew, providing maximum penetration with both
parties sharing the effort.

"That's right, lover," he said, "dance with me.  Do that funky chicken."

Now that I was cooperating, he relaxed his grip around my waist, and
moved his hand down to grasp my cock.  He held his hand as steady as he
could, under the circumstances.  Do that funky chicken.  I fucked his
hand as he fucked my ass.  Our balls collided with our bodies, clapping
out the tempo.  His breath was hot on my neck, and his sweat mingled
with mine.  He managed to move from his knees to his feet without
breaking stride, then slowly raised up a bit to change the angle of
entry. The reason quickly became obvious: this new angle targeted my
prostate. He battered it with his rod, causing my ass muscles to
constrict involuntarily with each thrust, a benefit we both thoroughly
enjoyed.

I felt a sharp pain on my shoulder.  My eyes shot open to see what was
happening.  The mirror reflected two German Shepherds frantically
humping on the bed.  I blinked and the image dissolved into two men, the
one on top biting the one underneath.  I let out a gutteral growl, and
increased the pacing to a feverous pitch.  The air was thick with our
musk as steam rose from our bodies.  The place took on the masculine
aroma of a superbowl locker room.

The mirror started to fog up.  It beheld a hazy image of a massive
blurry fleshy engine-machine grunting and sweating and pistoning in and
out of itself.  It generated no electricity, carried no payload,
manufactured no widgets.  It had no purpose whatsoever other than
itself, but that purpose had an intensity all its own, and nothing could
stop it. The two halves of the machine pounded together faster and
harder, desperately trying to reach the ultimate goal before running out
of fuel.

At last I felt the end coming.  That unmistakable feeling that starts
out as a small dust devil, deep inside one's groin and builds upward and
outward.  I fucked his hand hard and clamped down on his intruding prick
to let him know the time was near.  His response was affirmative as he,
too, increased his efforts.  Our balls ceased their repetitive colliding
as they both recoiled into their respective body cavities in preparation
for the impending orgasm.  My throbbing prostate began to flow, priming
the pump.  A tornado whipped through my trunk.  Our thighs crashed
together.  The hurricane flew into my brain, and I howled my pleasure as
my cock gushed forth a viscous string of pearls, impregnated the pillow
beneath me.  My asshole spasmed with each burst, and my mate howled his
ecstasy as well, pumping his seed deep into my bowels.  My ravenous
asshole milked his cock as he fed it his cum, sucking and slurping with
an endless hunger, until finally, both were, at long last, completely
satisfied.

The fucking machine came to a stop and collapsed onto itself, the heap
slowly rising and falling as it caught its breath, its fuel completely
spent, but its purpose quite adequately met.

"Will you marry me?" I asked in a euphoric daze with my face pressed
into the bed.

"I'm already married, but I might consider having a mistress."

He pulled out of me and rolled off onto his side.  I turned over and
embraced him.  We kissed with what little energy we had left.  I
pondered his proposal.

"I don't know, I always thought of myself as a top, but now I may
reconsider it.  Tell me, are you as hot with your wife as you were with
me just now? Where did you learn to fuck like that?"

He smiled in modesty.  "Well, Mark, you're just such a good teacher, and
I'm a good student.  I just took my cues from you and improvised a
little."

I sat up and glared at him.  "What did you say?"

"I said you were a good teacher and I was..."

"You called me 'Mark'!"

His face had a glimmer of panic.  "Did I? Sorry.  Just a slip of the
tongue, Harry."

It was all coming together now.  "You filthy son of a bitch.  Your
tongue is far too talented to make a slip like that!"

"What is the problem? You just remind me of this other guy I know,
that's all."

He looked at me with wide eyes and eyebrows turned up shaking his head,
but he didn't fool me.  That was a very familiar face he was wearing. I
should know, having seen it a dozen times in the mirror.  It is the face
one dons when one is caught inextricably in a lie.

"This whole thing has been a put-on, hasn't it! You're not married.
You're a professional queer, aren't you Joe, if that really is your
name."

He wiped off the face and replaced it with a smirk.

"I guess the charade is over."

I was beet-red with anger.  He made a fool of me.  I really hated that.

"You fucked me in the ass without a condom, you bastard!"

"Relax, I'm clean.  I only prey off of virgins, just like you.  Besides,
if I had stopped to put on a condom, I would have lost that golden
opportunity to watch you squirm like a skewered pig.  Shit, that was
priceless!"

"YOU GODDAMN COCKSUCKING ASSHOLE!!!..."

I dove onto him with both arms swinging.  We tussled around on the bed,
but we were both thoroughly exhausted, and neither did much damage to
the other.  With our limbs locked together like a Chinese wood block
puzzle, we rolled about and inevitably off of the bed, landing with a
crunch onto the cold hard floor.  The initial shock knocked the wind out
of us, but as we recovered, he started up with his infectious
snickering, and it wasn't long before we were both doubled over, belly
laughing to tears.

He regained control first and got to his feet, groaning a few new
bruises, then reached out a hand to me.  I looked up at him and wiped my
face.  I had been had, but I deserved it.  I considered my options.

"Is that mistress offer still open?"

"Uh...yeah, I guess so.  But only on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays."

"Oh really, and what about the rest of the week." I grabbed his hand,
and he pulled me to my feet.

"On those days, I get to be the mistress."

"Deal!"

We sealed it with a mutually passionate kiss, which was cut short by a
loud crashing of glass.  The mirror had slipped off its nail and
shattered to the ground.

I shrugged and grabbed his ass.  "Don't need it anymore.  I got my
mirror right here."

We were each a perfect reflection of the other: identical and opposite
at the same time.  We both knew that a relationship would be risky
because of its narcissistic nature.  People who marry their reflections
tend to dislike what they see in their mate.  To make this relationship
work, there would have to be a lot more honesty than we had shown each
other up to this point, but, what the hell, it was worth a try.  And
besides, we both enjoyed a challenge.

Monogamy had its advantages: it was okay to be unselfish with one's
bodily fluids, and we were both imaginative enough to maintain
spontaneity in the bedroom, the elevator, the taxi cab, McDonald's. And
when we had an urge for nostalgia, we would go to the bars together and
watch the wolves and the sheep, taking nothing more than a voyeuristic
interest.  Still, whenever I saw a wolf make his move on a defenseless
little lamb, I always wondered if he really knew what he was getting
himself into.  And when they left the bar together and the wolf patted
the lamb on the butt, what was under that sheep's clothing? Wool?
Bristles? A spring steel trap? Sometimes the mystery was never solved.
Other times the outcome was as plain as day when the wolf showed up
later with his arm chewed off at the shoulder.  Some learn it the hard
way, others don't learn anything at all, and never have a clue who is
the hunter, who is the huntee, and who is the mark.