Date: Thu, 11 Feb 1999 12:07:59 PST
From: Horatio Nimier <horatio_nimier@hotmail.com>
Subject: COLIN

This post contains explicit descriptions of sex between consenting
adults.

Much of it portrays homosexual actions and lifestyle.

If homosexuality, sexually explicit language, or swearing offends you,
or if reading material that contains these violates any law or personal
or religious beliefs you must exit now without proceeding further.

If you're under 18 years old you may not read it either because it is
against the law.  I regret this because I was once a randy teenager
and I feel somewhat two-faced in helping to enforce the law.
Hopefully, one day, censorship may disappear along with other vestiges
of Big Brother and Mother Grundy.

The story is fictional inasmuch as things did not unfold as portrayed.
It is based on events that happened on two business trips that did take
place.  These memories have been cemented together with strips of
fiction to make the story cohere.  Names and places have been changed.

The stories are dedicated to the memory of my friend, Kerry.


COLIN
=====


The ad for the job in Kansas City, coming when it did, had been nothing
short of a miracle.  A sweet chariot, swinging low.  My luck held:
three long-distance phone conversations while I was still in hospital
and I had me an offer.  Some friends helped me roll my bike into the
back of a rental truck and fill the rest of the space with my stereo
system and books.  I said good-bye to them, the few people that still
cared about me, and pleased my father immensely by getting myself and my
fag ass out of Texas.

Just over the state line in Oklahoma I'd pulled into a gas station to
take a piss.  Afterwards, I stood in front of the mirror and studied
the guy looking back at me.  The brushcut was short enough to blend
with the hair where they'd shaved it to stitch a gash together.  Three
weeks ago he wouldn't have been able to open his left eye enough to
stare back at me, but now I could look into his dark brown eyes under
the bushy eyebrows that met over his nose.  We smiled sardonically at
each other.  The crease on the left side of his mouth was deeper than
the one on the right.  I had wondered for some days at what could have
torn his mouth like that.  A finger not quite tucked into a fist?  A
graduation ring, a big one like my brother wore?  The guy in the
mirror raised his sweatshirt and I took stock of his torso.  There
were bruises turning from blue-red to black-bronze, and a couple of
jagged weals were outlined with the little bumps where the stitches had
come out.  I closed my eyes.  I didn't want to see more.  The
bathroom stank of urine and the smell dragged back memories of that
night.  Two nights after my twenty-fourth birthday, not quite
forty-eight hours had passed since  I had told my family that I was gay.
It had not gone well.  Dumb shit that I was, I'd accepted an invitation
from my brother to go out for a drink with some friends.  It was good
to be away from the house.  My Dad wasn't speaking to me at all and my
Mom kept on wanting me to go to this or that doctor who would surely be
able to `cure' me.  On the drive out I relaxed, letting the wind blow
through my long hair.  I didn't even stop to wonder why we parked
behind the bar rather than in front like we usually did.  Four of our
friends were there, too.  It promised to be a great evening.  But they
were strangely reticent and I was vainly trying to start a conversation
as we walked into the alley and it suddenly became clear that this was
going to be a very different sort of bash.  It lasted probably less
than five minutes.  I remembered lying on the ground as pain erupted
all over me and the taste of blood filled my mouth.  Eventually the
hitting and the kicking stopped.  I had tried to get up but my
brother's boot pushed me back down.  I looked at the five men in
terrified incomprehension as they screamed at me how I had shamed them,
how I had let them down, disgraced them.  And then five streams of piss
drenched my head.  An older Mexican man came out with a bucket and a
mop.  Without hesitating and ignoring the fact that he was outnumbered
he came to my rescue, laying about him, left and right, with that mop,
swiping, lunging, parrying until my brother and my friends retreated
down the alley firing Parthian shots of "Keep away from us, you fag!"
in my direction.  My guardian angel helped me crawl to the wall next to
the back door and then he went in to call 911.  Perhaps I don't owe my
life to him.  Perhaps I do.

I looked straight into the eyes of the guy in the mirror and made a
promise to him.  In Kansas City nobody would know he was gay.  I
would never, ever let him go through that again.  He dropped his
sweatshirt and I walked back out, got into the truck and pointed it
northwards.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the April of 82.  Texas was half a year, or a whole lifetime
away, depending on how you looked at it, and my life was taking shape
again.  A sysprog (systems programmer) in an insurance company was a
good position.  Qualified people were still scarce and we could pretty
much call the tune.  And the pay was outstanding.  It had to be.
Overtime and working at odd hours were the norm.

So it was that on a Saturday evening I was finishing setting up a new
MVS system.  I had moved my desk way over to one side of my office so
that I could look through the window at a grove of orange trees rather
than the pseudo Spanish-style architecture of the office complex.  The
trees threw long shadows across the square as I tidied up my desk (well,
at least the papers went into piles).  I pulled on my leather
motorcycle jacket, grabbed the full-face helmet and headed out of my
office.

As I walked into the corridor I heard music coming through the closed
door of the office next to mine.  That would be Colin, a fellow biker
and colleague in the systems software group.  He and I were the new
guys on the team and this and our love of bikes had formed a bond
between us.  I pushed his door open and went in.  He was sitting at
his desk working at a system dump that he'd been at for a couple of
days.  His helmet and biker jacket lay across his guest chair so I
placed my `lid' on top of the terminal, pushed some papers aside and
hoisted myself onto the desk top next to his keyboard.  He pushed his
chair back , swung his Nikes onto the desk, leaned back and grinned at
me.  "You won't believe these stats guys!  Their fuckin' FORTRAN
programs can really chew memory and screw a system."

He went into some detail about what he'd found and we talked about work
for a while after that.  Eventually the conversation drifted onto the
weekend and bike-riding.  "I see you bought the pants you wanted."
said Colin pointing to my leather motorcycle jeans.  "They look nice."

"Yeah", I said looking down at the shiny black leather that clung to my
thighs, "got them last week.  It was great riding this morning and not
having my balls freeze off."

Colin put his hand just above my knee and felt the leather.  "They're
quite thick", he said,  "should keep you warm -- and safe if you come off."
A reference to Colin's opinion that I rode too fast.  "What do you
wear under them?  Boxers?"  His hand stayed on my leg.

"Nothing." I said grinning.  "I hardly ever do, anyway."

"You're kidding.  No shorts?"

"Sometimes a jockstrap if the jeans are tight and I'm coming to the
office.  I don't want to get arrested.  But I prefer nothing.  I gave
up underwear when I got the bike.  They cut into my legs when I was on
the saddle.  Except in winter", I added, "then I wear thermals under
my denims.  I'd freeze otherwise.  That was another reason for getting
these leather jeans --  for the cold weather riding."

"Isn't the leather hard on your dick?" he asked, smiling.  His hand
had moved upwards and was examining the suppleness of the leather in the
crotch.

"That's the other reason for getting them." I grinned.

He squeezed gently, my cock and balls were in his hand.

"Hey!" I said, "Give it a break.  You'll give me a hard on doing
that."

"So?  I've had a boner all afternoon, why shouldn't you have one, too?"
I looked at his jeans.  From the frayed hems that concertinaed
over the top of his Nikes because they were too tight to fit over them,
the denim, blue faded almost to white in strategic places, stretched up
matching the curves of his legs, to a mound that I hadn't noticed
before.  His hand massaged my groin.  I leaned back on the desk and
pushed into his palm.  "Let's see what's inside these jeans," he said,
and tried to open the zipper.

It didn't move since I was sitting, so I stood up.  He stood, too.
The zipper slid down and  his hand moved  inside.  For the first time
in months another guy was holding my cock.  As his hand circled my
shaft his thumb gently rubbed my glans.  I ran my left hand round his
back as my right dragged his zipper open.  The zipper parted  and the
white briefs pushed out.  I tried to get my hand on his cock, but his
jeans were too tight.  "Open the belt." he said.  I opened the buckle
on the broad leather belt he was wearing and undid the button at the top
of the fly.  He let go of my cock and, in one swift movement, pushed
his jeans and briefs down to mid-thigh.  His cock was about eight
inches long and curved upwards like a scimitar above the black bush.
Like me, he was circumcised and the head stood red and bulging.  As we
massaged each other I slipped my left hand through the side of his white
muscle-shirt and found his nipple.  I caught it between the side of my
thumb and index finger and began to squeeze and pull at it.  Our faces
were inches apart.  "Are you gay?", Colin asked looking into my eyes.

"No.  No way." I said emphatically.  The Spanish inquisition wouldn't
force me to `Come Out' again.  "I'm just horny as hell and I'm between
girlfriends." Well, at least part of that sentence was true.  Kinda,
sorta.  I had, until recently, been going out with a girl named Carol.
It had been fun and the sex had been good, but the relationship just
didn't grow.  We were still friends, we said.
"Are you a gay?" I asked.  Say `yes', please say `yes'.

"Nah.  Same as you.  I've just been real horny all afternoon.  Then
you walk in with all this leather and I really just needed to jack."

"Yeah.  I know what you mean.  Leather's a real big turn on for me,
too."  I squeezed the nipple hard.  "Why don't you take your shirt
off and put just your jacket on," I said.  I was fucking stunned to
hear the words come out of my mouth.  I'd fantasized about scenes like
this for years, but the fear of  someone finding out how weird I was
had, until then, kept the words frozen in my throat.  When I suggested
wearing my helmet while having sex, Carol had told me I was a pervert.

"You too." panted Colin as he pulled his muscle-shirt over his head,
threw it on the floor and pulled on his jacket.  He moved to the door,
his jeans hobbling him somewhat, closed it and turned the lock.  He
bent down and undid his high-tops and kicked them off.  The jeans and
briefs joined the shirt in a pile on the floor.  I threw my T-shirt in
with them and put my jacket back on.  We moved together again and as I
held his cock in my right hand, my left arm went around him so I could
feel the smooth hide over his shoulders.  He had his hand on my back
and, as we each savored the feel of the leather, he pulled me towards
him and locked his mouth on mine.  Kissing another guy is an instant
turn on for me.  Colin's second-day stubble on his cheeks rasped on my
face.  Our tongues pushed and probed each other as we sucked.  The
smell and feel of the leather was better than I'd ever fantasized.  We
stood like this for a couple of minutes, our hands going up and down on
each other's shafts. My right leg was between his and I could feel his
scrotum slap gently on the leather of the jeans as I moved my hand
rhythmically.  I moved back so I could watch his cock.  I spit on my
left hand and holding his cock in my right started to rub circles on the
underneath of the glans.  He liked that, I could tell from the little
shivers that rocked his body.  Precum was oozing out of both our cocks.
I wiped a drop off with my finger and put it on my tongue.  My hand
carried the scent of man cock to my nose.  Oh, man, this was why it was
so good to be gay.  His pelvis started to give little jerks and his
cock was throbbing.  He had his head pulled back, looking at the
ceiling.  This was driving him crazy, but I kept the motion well up to
the tip to delay the climax.  He couldn't take it and pushed my hand
down onto the shaft.  "Chris, I've got to shoot." he panted.  Hardly
were the words out of his mouth than his ass gave a couple of heaves and
the jism came spurting out of the inflamed head.  It flew up in a thick
parabola and a stream of it landed on my sleeve -- the white standing
out against the shiny black.  I swapped hands on his dick and, as I
squeezed the last drops into my fingers I brought my right sleeve up to
my mouth.  Our eyes locked as I licked the spunk off.  His jism was
slightly sweet and thick.  I hadn't tasted another guy's juice in
months and it was so good now.  Colin was running his hand over my ass,
squeezing the cheeks through the leather and holding me against him.  I
could feel the muscles at the base of my cock starting to spasm, then
the point of no return --  my balls tightened and my load shot.  Colin
cupped his hands together around my cock, holding the cum till I stopped
thrusting.  Then he lifted his hand up to his lips, took most of the
jism  in with one lick, and then pushed his face up to  mine.  I was
still letting my tongue roll his jism in my mouth as I let his tongue
in.  Our tongues rubbed back and forth as we tried to taste every
molecule.  We shared our treasure like this for about a minute, holding
each other tightly because our legs were weak.

"Now we're brothers," said Colin as we pulled apart.  His smile was warm
and his hand still held the side of my jacket..

"Shit!" I gasped.  "That was un-fucking-believable."  I could barely
stand -- my legs were twitching.

Colin sat back in his chair his legs apart and the black jacket framing
his subsiding cock, the belt lying next to his balls.  I pulled a
handkerchief out of my pocket and cleaned up my sleeve and then my cock.
I passed it to Colin.  He wiped the sticky fluid  out of his bush and
then cleaned some stray drops off the
carpet.  When he eventually gave it back to me I held it under my nose
to enjoy the smell.  Colin picked up my T-shirt and tossed it over to
me.  I threw it back and said "Keep it as a souvenir to remind you of
this evening.  Give me your muscle-shirt."  He looked at me for a
second or two and then laughed.  "You are a randy bastard, Chris.  I'm
glad we're buddies."  He tossed his shirt to me.  I pulled it on
slowly, smelling his body odors as the cotton went over my nose.

"You wanna swap jeans, too?" Colin asked tongue-in-cheek.

"Yours do look real cool," I admitted, joining in the fun, "but I think
mine are just a bit better."

"Just thought I'd ask." he said.  "He pulled his briefs out of his
jeans and threw them over to where his tank bag lay before pulling the
denim back up his legs.  He folded his subsiding cock into the fly and
pushed it down.  As he fastened his belt the material tightened
leaving not much to the imagination.

"You got much more to do here?" I asked.

"Not too much.  Just document this problem for the guys upstairs.
Probably about quarter of an hour's work."

"Let's go get some dinner at that steakhouse down the road." I said.
"Then I'll come back with you and help you get finished."

"Sounds good.  I'd appreciate your ...er...help!"  He smiled at me.
"Can we take your bike?  I've got
only enough gas to get me home and then the gas station."

"Sure thing," I replied.  "Give you a chance to ride with a real
motorcyclist."

He flashed a bird at me.  "I'll have your nuts in my hand the whole
way.  You do any crazy stuff and I'll squeeze them dry."

The fading sunlight was just catching the tops of some distant clouds as
we walked into the parking lot together with our helmets hanging from
our hands by the chin bars.  By the time I swung my bike into the
traffic the sun had gone and the clouds were gray.  The lights at the
corner were green and I could feel Colin's legs gripping my thighs as I
leaned the VFR into the corner.

Three quarters of an hour later we sat back in our booth at the
Texarkana Steak House after putting our ribs around two giant T-bones.
Our conversation during the meal had been pretty much confined to work
and bikes, almost as though nothing had happened between us.  But
there was something new in our relationship and it hovered around us
unseen like a fish underneath the waters, its presence made known only
by the occasional ruffles on the calm surface.  I really liked Colin.
He was a good-looker, very capable at his job, yet he had no airs about
him.  I trusted him and I felt that, if this relationship was to get
off the ground, I had to level with him.  After the waitress had filled
our coffee mugs I steeled myself.  Holding the thick ceramic mug in
both hands, with my elbows on the table to steady me, I looked at Colin.
"Hey, Colin, I need to tell you something."

"Sure, bud.  What's up?"

"Back at the office ... this evening ... you asked me if I was gay.  I told
you I was straight.  That's not true.  I am gay.  Well, to be really
accurate, I'm bi, but most times I find relationships with guys easier
to handle.  I guess I fit a 4 on the Kinsey scale."  I watched his
eyes closely waiting for his reaction.  He looked at me for what
seemed a real long time before his eyes filled with warmth and his mouth
widened in a smile as he brought his mug up to his lips and took a sip
of coffee.

"Yeah.  I kinda figured you were."

"You knew?  Naah, you didn't."  He looked at me smiling and nodded.
"C'mon, how d'ya know?"

"Listen, Lover Boy.  If you are going to try and stay in the closet
don't never go kissin' no gay guy.  Your kiss gives you away  in five
seconds flat."

"My kiss..." the real message just registered in my brain.  "You're
gay?"

His grin was wide as I bounced in the confusion.  "Yeah, welcome to the
club, Chris.  I'm one of the chosen, too, just like you.  Only I'm
completely gay."

"You're shitting me!"

"No, buddy."  He leaned back and flung his arms out along the back of
the booth.  I looked at the veins on his muscles.  "I give you Colin
Eric Heath.  He's not really a straight, he just plays one on
television.  In real life he's the All American Homosexual Male."

"Shit, Colin!"  I was stunned.  "I can hardly believe it.  Shit,
this is the greatest news I've heard in a long time." I sat and looked
at him, grinning like a Cheshire cat.  "I would never have guessed --
although I must admit I've fantasized."

Colin laughed.  "I'm flattered.  I've fantasized about us together,
too, but you act pretty straight and I didn't want to screw with a
friendship."

"Shit.  Well at least I had you fooled.  As long as I don't go
kissing guys in the office I'll be OK.  But  I'd really appreciate it
if you kept this to yourself, man.  I'm not ready to come out for a
while."

"Sure thing, Chris.  It's our secret.  And, the best part of it all
is that that way I get to keep you to myself ."

I sipped my coffee and looked at him.  "I'm glad we're together.  I
haven't been close to anyone for so long."

"It can get lonely, can't it?" remarked Colin

"You bet."  I drained my mug, signed the credit card check and stood
up.  "Let's go finish your work and go home."

"Fuck the work, I'll finish it up tomorrow.  Let's go pick up my bike
and we can go back to my place."

"Sounds good to me, buddy."  We stood up and donned our jackets and
walked out.  I caught several heads turning to stare at us as we went
by and I wondered how many hormones got marching orders from brains
registering the two bikers walk by.  Five minutes later we were back
in the traffic that the fine weather had brought out of their homes like
ants after rain.  The wind was cool and Colin snuggled up to me.
His hands were lightly around my waist, but there were too many people
around to do the stuff we wanted -- or maybe he decided to save
everything for later.  After a while the traffic thinned out and,
about five blocks from the office, the road was clear when we stopped at
a light.  As we waited another guy on a bike pulled up next to me.  We
nodded at each other and studied each other's rides.  Nothing was said
and no signal went between the riders, but as the light went green both
throttles twisted wide open and the two bikes shot forward, their front
tires crossing the white lines on the far side of the intersection bare
seconds later as we howled down the road.  It took Colin by surprise
and he first grabbed my waist and then, as we careened down the street
his right hand found my crotch and grabbed my nuts.

It was so hot!  The adrenaline kick as the bikes  raced down the
asphalt well over the speed limit and my buddy squeezing my nuts and
holding on to me for dear life.

We reached the office complex in record time and I blipped my horn in
farewell to the other biker as I braked hard and down-shifted before
rolling on the throttle as I leaned the bike far over into a left hand
turn.  I pulled up next to Colin's bike and dropped my feet to the
ground to steady the bike as he got off.  I kicked the shift down and
lifted it into neutral before killing the engine.

"You are a fucking maniac!" said Colin, but the look in his eyes showed
me he wasn't too serious.  "You always ride like that?"

"Hey, welcome to the life of a motorcyclist" I laughed.

"Shit, I've been riding just as long as you have."  He pushed the key
into the ignition as he swung his legs over his bike.

"We gonna get gas on the way, or head straight for your place?"

"Let's get gas on the way.  We've got all night."

I started the VFR up again and followed Colin out into the street.
Colin rode very smoothly -- the sign of a good rider.  He wasn't all
that slow, either.  He probably didn't get his bike up over 100 as
often as I did, but he was doing OK.

Half an hour later he led my bike into the parking garage under his
apartment block.  Our engines thundered in the close confines of
concrete pillars and low ceilings as we found his parking spot.  We
went in together taking off our helmets as we walked.  The hall was
deserted as we waited for the elevator and I squeezed his butt.  He
slapped my hand.  "You want to get me evicted, you horny bastard?"

"Yeah!  Then you can move in with me."  He laughed in response and we
walked into the elevator.  We chatted about my progress in rebuilding
my "shack" as I called it until we got out on the top floor.  Colin
opened the door and ushered me in.  It was a typical bachelor pad.
Records, tapes and books dominated the living room.  The kitchen,
however, was clean and tidy and I dumped my helmet next to his on the
bar that separated it from the sitting room.

We hung our jackets over the backs of chairs.  "Want a beer?" Colin
asked opening the fridge.

"Sure!"  I watched his butt as he bent down.  The denim pulled into
his ass-crack leaving nothing to the imagination.  I felt a deep
warmth inside.  This wasn't going to be a one-night stand.  I knew
what they were like:  I'd had some of those when my loneliness or my
hormones had got too much to handle by myself.  Colin and I had become
firm friends before we knew about each other's sexual orientation.  We
had mutual respect for the talents we brought to our jobs and, of
course, we each enjoyed riding motorcycles.  Now, as I watched him
snap the caps off the two beer bottles, a new feeling was forming in my
chest.

"Here you go, Chris."  He handed me a beer.  I took it and returned
his `Skol'.  He held his arm out indicating the rest of the apartment
and grinned at me.  "Well, this is it.  Make yourself at home."  I
moved to the living room and sat down on the sofa.  He walked over to
the stereo system.  "You like The Boss?" he asked, picking up
Springsteen's `The River' album.

"Yeah."  He pulled it out of its sleeve and placed it gently on the
turntable.  As the sounds of  `The Ties that Bind' filled the room he
came over and sat down next to me.  We sipped our beers and listened
to the music.  "...Can you walk the line and face the ties that bind?'
`Yeah,' I thought to myself, `that's tonight's million dollar question
for you, boy-o.'

"So, our Chris is bi!"  Colin's voice broke through my thoughts.  His
smile went from cheek to cheek.  "Ya know, I've thought about you a
whole lot, but I never thought it'd get much further than that."

"I wouldn't have guessed about you, either.  You act real straight.
I've never noticed you cruise a guy."

"Yeah, it's a strange world to live in, ain't it."  He raised his
eyebrows.  "You ever think about coming out?"

"I tried it once."  I took a swig at the bottle.  "Crashed and burned.
Real bad.  Not going to do that again."  Something in my tone must
have warned him he was in a minefield because he changed the subject.

"What'ja want to do tonight?"

"Whatever you want."

"No, you're my guest.  It's your night."  His arm went around my
shoulder and his face was close to mine.  I turned toward him and our
mouths found each other and then, once again, his tongue was in my
mouth, thrusting and exploring.  I grabbed him and pulled him close.
I ran my fingers under his belt and pulled his (my) T-shirt out so I
could feel the skin tight over his back.  His hand was feeling the
leather between my legs.

"Was this afternoon really good for you, Colin?" I asked.  There was a
great feeling inside me.  I felt so at one with Colin ... and the world.

"Yeah," he said, "it was good." said Colin.

"Yeah, for me, too."

"It was good for you?  Really?"

"Yeah.  Sure.  You're one helluva guy, Colin."

"You know this had to happen, don't you?" asked Colin.

"I'm sure glad it did," I said.  I pulled the T-shirt over his head
and took his muscle shirt off my body too so we could feel each other's
kin.

"No, I mean that I've been wanting you real bad for about a month now."
His face was inches from mine, our eyes locked.  "From the first time
we met I liked you, but I thought you were out of my reach.  I really
thought you were straight.  But, shit, guy, I've wanted you.  I
haven't fantasized about anyone else for a long time.  You don't know
how many times I thought of throwing caution to the winds and telling
you what I wanted."

"Fuck, Colin, you should have.  I've thought about you a whole lot,
too.  I feel good when I'm around you."

Once again our mouths met and our hands wandered below each other's
waists.  "Let's go to the bedroom, Chris."

He got up and I tried to get his jeans down as we walked.  Half way to
the bedroom they were down by his knees, hobbling him and  he and I
staggered, laughing like crazy onto the bed.  My mouth was on his
boner almost immediately, and I sucked as much of it in as I could
without gagging.  I was going to have to practice if I wanted to take
it all.  My hands caressed his balls, then moved back to his ass.  I
mounded the cheeks for a while and then let my right hand slip between
them into the crack.  "You got any lube?" I asked him.

"Yeah.  In that drawer."  He pointed to the nightstand.  As I found
the tube of KY he got his sneakers off and shucked his jeans.  I undid
my belt and opened my zipper.  I was too impatient to get my jeans off
completely.  I knelt on the bed and lifted his legs onto my shoulder.
Squeezing some jelly onto my fingers I started to probe his hole.  I
soon had one finger past the muscles and began to lube the inside, going
further and further until I felt his prostate.  I began to massage it
gently with my finger tip and I could see him twitching with the
sensations.  "Chris,  go inside me.  Fuck me.  Please, fuck me, man!"
I squeezed some KY onto my glans, positioned my phallus at the gateway
to heaven and watching his face I pushed in.

"Feeling good?" I asked.  He wasn't wincing, so mine wasn't the first
cock to explore the darkness inside him.

"Oh yeah.  Go, man.  Go in."

I pushed fully in and felt his buttocks twitch as I hit the mark.
Colin's hand encircled his shaft and was pumping it steadily.  His eyes
were sometimes on me and sometimes closed in ecstasy.  I began a
regular, hard thrusting and it didn't take long for him to begin to
pound his meat frantically, his head thrown back and thrashing from side
to side.  For the second time that day I watched spurt after spurt of
white love juice shoot out of him.  The sight of it arcing down to his
chest and stomach electrified me and, with a few spine-tingling shoves I
emptied my load inside him.  As I knelt there, panting and waiting for
my cock to soften and lose some sensitivity, we smiled at each other.
It was just so right for the two of us to be together.  I ran my
fingers over his stomach collecting the sperm.  The first load I licked
off my fingers while Colin grinned at me.  The second lot I offered to
him, letting him lick it off my fingers with his tongue.  I withdrew
slowly and rolled over onto the bed next to him.  We lay there, hands
running over each other's body and not speaking.  Nothing we could have
said would have conveyed how we felt at that point.  Eventually, Colin
leant over and kissed me gently on the cheek.  "Get those jeans off and
let's go shower," he said tracing circles with his finger on my chest.
"The night is young."

Sometime about eleven o'clock, to the amazement of people everywhere,
the moon halted its travels around the earth.  It waited, hesitant
lest its movement disturb us, as Colin held me tight and planted his
seed deep inside me.  Only then did it move on, shining its benediction
on us as we drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.


 (c) 1999  Horatio.

I relate these stories because I enjoy writing and I enjoy the subject
matter.  If you have any comments you can email me at
horatio_nimier@hotmail.com
I'll even accept criticism if expressed in an adult, objective and
polite manner.
Hate mail will be flushed without reading.  Grow up.