The Seduction of Me

The first time I saw him I wasn't particularly interested, although I liked his eyes, deep brown and intelligent. A few curls of red hair escaped the sideways baseball cap, and his freckles were adorable. It was the first time meeting my neighbors since I moved into my house in this quiet suburb. They were loading up the minivan to take their son to his second year of college. He stood awkwardly between his parents as they introduced themselves, adjusting that baseball cap while we chatted. Behind them, the minivan was packed with luggage and a guitar case.

"Elliot," he said when it was his turn, reaching to shake my hand with a shy smile.

I prefer my guys skinny like me, and this guy looked like had a lot of meat under that leather jacket. Besides, I'd just finished my MBA, one I went back to college to earn after five years out in the working world, so I must be ten years older than him. I remember when I was twenty: any guy over 25 was an old man, so even if Elliot was gay nothing would happen with me.

Fall, winter, and spring flew by with my new job keeping me busy, often traveling to job sites around the state. The neighbors invited me to dinner parties with their many friends, and I learned that they all like their booze. The wife even drunkenly tried to set me up with her niece, a school teacher, and I had to delicately let both of them know that I was gay. I didn't want the teacher thinking she was unattractive. The next dinner party they invited their token gay friend, a guy with greying hair and beer gut. He and I had a good laugh about them trying to set us up. I wasn't his type because he preferred bears like himself, and he already had a boyfriend.

One warm day I heard talking and shouted instructions from in my neighbors' back yard. I looked down from my office window on the second floor and saw that the college guy must be home for the summer. He and his dad were opening the cover on their pool.

"No, Elliot, we have to be in sync," called the dad as they reeled in the pool cover.

What the hell happened over the winter at his college? Elliot had gotten hot! I remembered his parents bragging last month about how much weight he'd lost after he joined the swim team. Even though he was only chosen as an alternate and never competed, they were proud that he'd relentlessly trained for the team. Now in shorts and a shirt, he was slim and firm, his red hair thick and curling.

I popped a boner, but I let reality help it melt. He was twenty, maybe twenty-one. His dad handed him a beer after they finished, and they sat in lawn chairs, kicking them back to recline and raise their feet to relax, a father and son catching up after a semester of college.

The back bedroom on the second floor of my house seemed like a good place for my computer and my home office because I could look out over the green of my back lawn, the high cedar hedges hiding the houses at the back and on my right, but there was only a waist high chain link fence to Elliot's yard, and I found myself distracted from work many times over the next two weeks as summer took hold. Did Elliot ever wear a shirt? Whether he was mowing the lawn, skimming the pool, or weeding the flower garden, he was always in the skimpiest of shorts and running shoes and nothing else. His chest, like mine, was flat and smooth. He must've used a lot of sunblock, because his pale, freckled skin didn't turn red, even after an hour outside.

Pool time really interrupted my work. His speedo bathing suit left almost nothing to my imagination. Not that I could tell the size of his package, but it certainly wasn't small, the bulge significant. I struggled not to be the creepy guy watching him do laps--so beautiful in form and figure. I forced myself to turn the computer I use for CAD design away from the window on those days when I worked from home. Wiring diagrams don't get done while I'm at the window drooling.

Just before July 4th weekend, Elliot's parents let me know they were going away for a couple of weeks, and Elliot would have the house to himself. They were flying to Paris to see Elliot's older sister, who was on some post-grad exchange thing for a year. They didn't tell me to supervise Elliot, but I sensed that I was the guy who should call the police if a massive, drunken kegger broke out.

There was a party on Saturday night, lots of shouting and laughter, definitely alcohol. Skinny dipping also happened, lithe bodies with cute bums and bouncing breasts as they dived, cannon-balled and splashed. Some were big beautiful men and women too. Typical college kids. Since there was less than a dozen of them, I saw no need to call the police. I tried to stay away from the window and not stare like the creepy neighbor, but I did see Elliot's junk as he stood on the end of the diving board, his arms outstretched as he prepared, and it was a nice flopping penis as he leapt into the air. Again, I reminded myself about the ten-year age gap and the fact that he probably wasn't gay. My guess is he got laid that night to one of those hot women, and as I drifted off to sleep, I struggled not to picture that cute bum going up and down in the act.

The big shock came two nights later when splashing in the pool caught my attention because it wasn't accompanied by shouts and laughter. I looked up from scrubbing my frying pan and out the kitchen window, and sure enough a pale figure swam laps. Naked. His bare bum flexed his legs. I drew in my breath and my cock rose rapidly in my shorts. I watched longer than I needed to, and he stopped and climbed the stairs out of the shallow end, shaking out his curls. His chest, and then his stomach were exposed with each step. When his cock emerged, it oddly made me think of a periscope, first the cut head, then the shaft, finally the balls. He was very hard! It pointed almost straight up toward his belly button.

I knew I should look away. With the kitchen light silhouetting me, he'd know I could see him, but he didn't run into his house. Instead, he sat in a lounge chair by the pool, leaning back to relax and raise his feet. He took a hold of his shaft! Shit! He was going to masturbate! Had he forgotten their pool lights were on, their patio lights? He was only a couple of car lengths from me, and his pale figure stood out from the black lawn chair like a ghost in a dark room.

I turned away quickly, hoping he didn't catch me watching, and I hurried into the living room to turn on the big screen. It's rude to watch a guy taking care of business even though I craved him. I definitely would be masturbating to that image tonight! My fantasies are my own.

Catching him skinny dip once is an accident. Twice is lucky. Four times and more is a pattern. It was usually around 9pm, just after dark, but it also happened in broad daylight a couple of times over the rest of the week, that pale bum flexing as he kicked through his laps. He always climbed out of the water dripping and hard, and not rushing to cover it with a towel. Was he purposely showing off? Was he an exhibitionist? He was also out in the backyard a lot scantily clad while doing gardening chores, even mowing the lawn wearing only his speedo and running shoes.

Did he want to hook up? He was a cock tease if he caught me watching given that his parents probably told him I was out of the closet gay. I didn't catch him masturbating again, but he was a constant distraction from my computer. I had to work late a couple of nights to meet a Friday deadline.

My weekend plans crashed when my college friend-with-benefits, Caleb, texted that he and his boyfriend Liam wouldn't be able to come up and stay with me after all. I had been so looking forward to entertaining them in my basement with our favourite toys, another reason I was hard so often all week.

The grass needed cutting, and Saturday was bright and beautiful--hot, but not too hot. I plugged in the mower and started my lines, but even this simple task was interrupted by Elliot coming out of his house in his skimpiest speedo swim suit. Awesome for racing, but leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. He gave a pleasant wave and a friendly smile before he lay face down on a flatten lounge. Sunbathing with that freckled, pale skin? I kept my opinion to myself and spent the next hour trying not to look over at his bubble butt as I mowed my way to the end of my long yard.

As I wrapped the electrical cord, I heard him curse.

"Oh Fuck!"

He popped up, standing to pull one arm forward to look down at his shoulder. My breath drew in at his beauty--not muscular swimmer's shoulders yet, but heading there, and his abs, oh my god, natural just because there wasn't an ounce of fat on his lithe frame. His chest was flat and hairless like mine. Wait a minute, was he half hard? The outline of his penis pushed to the right and up to the top of the speedo, his head dangerously close to pushing out into view.

I struggled to keep my eyes in my head. "Everything ok?" I asked to cover, quickly concentrating on wrapping my lawn mower cord. Eyes down. My cheeks felt warm. Was I blushing?

He shook his head, his red curls tossing. "Oh shit, I fell asleep. I must be burned to a crisp. My Mom is going to kill me. She said use lots of sunblock, like skin cancer and all."

I looked up, careful to meet his eyes and not look at his groin. "Turn around. Let me see."

He turned and held his arms out, his feet slightly apart, making me think of Leonardo da Vinci's drawing of a male, only from the back. What a gorgeous butt! Narrow hips made it a perfect bubble and the speedo hid nothing! The freckles on his shoulders petered out below his shoulder blades, and his pale skin definitely showed a shade of red. It took a few seconds to get my jaw back up before I could answer.

"Oh yeah! It's not too bad but you're definitely burned. I'd get some lotion on that right away and you should get out of the sun. I think you've got your vitamin D for the day."

He bent over at the waist, his ass still pointed right at me, and picked up some lotion from the patio chair. Wait a fucking minute! Who shoves their ass at a gay guy like that if they don't want him to look? He couldn't be that clueless. Did he get off on teasing me? If he ever ended up in my basement, he'd get a spanking for that. Thankfully my baggy cargo shorts would give a little bit of cover to my rapidly growing erection.

The electrical cord was wrapped, but I fussed with the end, making several feigned attempts to tie it all together to give me a full minute of ogling his backside while he rubbed lotion into his shoulders. He reached as far around his back as he could, but of course he wasn't going to get to the middle. He turned and totally busted me ogling him.

"Hey," he gave a sly smile, making me think of a cartoon cat that's cornered a mouse. "Do you mind rubbing some onto my back? I can't reach."

Okay that's it. This guy may not be hitting on me, but he was definitely having fun cock teasing his gay neighbor. Fine. I'll let him tease me all he wants if I get to touch his hot body in exchange. Will he laugh about this with his friends back at college over a beer?

"Sure. I don't mind lending a helping hand to spread lotion." I gave my own sly smile. Fuck him. I'm not going to pretend I'm not gay and hot for him. I came out of the closet years ago.

He opened the little gate in the chain link fence that let out onto the grass strip between our houses, so I opened the complementary gate on my property and scooted around into his yard. He held the bottle of sun tan oil in front of his crotch, giving me an excuse to look down from his eyes. There was definitely a good-sized boner working up in that speedo, and he was intentionally showing it off. My heart rate picked up. Did he want a hand job or a blow job from his gay neighbor? He wouldn't be the first guy who, after finding out I was gay, asked for a little one-sided relief. Twenty-year-old hetero guys are super horny, and some weren't too picky about whether it was a guy's lips or a girl's wrapped around their cock.

Before I could ask him to turn around, he lay face down on the reclined lounge. He raised his hands above his head so that I could access his sides as well as his back. The flattened lounge looked high end and sturdy, so I decided it could hold my weight too. This was also a test of his desires. I knelt with my knees on either side of his thighs, my groin just behind his bum. Would he protest this intimate position? It couldn't be lost on him that if we were both naked, I could lean forward and thrust into him. Instead of looking over his shoulder with a WTF look, he squirmed a bit to get comfortable. Wait a minute! Did he just subtly push his butt up at my crotch?

I squirted lotion out of the bottle down the middle of his spine, put the bottle beside him, and place the palms of my hands on his warm, sweating skin. I loved the scent of sweat and lotion mixing. I massaged in the lotion, going up first over his shoulders and then down, working it in, rubbing far more than necessary, loving where I was today, in this moment.

He let out a huge sigh of relief. "That's awesome," he said, his eyes closed as if I were his masseuse. "I just love to be touched."

It finally hit me! How could I be so dumb? For most of my gay life, at least since I came out of the closet when I was twenty, I was the seducer, often finding gay guys who hadn't admitted to themselves that they were gay. Perhaps that's why I hadn't understood that over the last week that I was the one being seduced. It wasn't an accident that Elliot spent so much time scantily clad in his backyard. It wasn't an accident that he got out the pool naked and hard and started to jack off. It was an invitation, and I'd been completely clueless.

Now I knew where this was going, at least I was certain I'd be giving him a hand job minimum. I shuffled back on the chair so that I could really press into his lower back, massaging the lotion right down to the band of his speedo. This meant I'd be pressing his hard-on into the lounge. He pushed up even more with his butt and gave another sigh of pleasure.

"Could you do my legs too, please?" he asked when I'd completely and thoroughly finished his back.

Seduced. No doubt now. Any human can stand up and rub lotion onto their legs. He liked to be touched. Ok! Two can play the seduction game. I stood and bent over, picking up the bottle to squirt lotion in a line up each distinct calf muscle. I started at the left ankle, lifting his foot a bit so that I could rub the lotion all around his leg, gradually pushing up, massaging higher and higher, past his knee, around his slim but firm thigh, getting closer and closer to his bum, my fingers sinking dangerously close to his speedo right near his anus. I stopped short and went to start at the ankle of his right leg, giving it the same treatment. Did he just sigh in frustration?

When my hands reached near his right buttock, rubbing both the sides and back of his thigh, he shifted, his butt rising further, reaching down to his swim suit. "I'm going to pull this up so that you can get all the red." With that, he hooked his fingers into the speedo and pulled it up to reveal where the sharp red line of the burn on his thighs ended and the bare white bum began. "Massage me."

Fantastic! We weren't even pretending anymore that this wasn't foreplay. He was showing off his bubble butt! I put one hand on each thigh and rubbed the lotion far higher than needed, my hands massaging his white buttocks, my fingers dangerously close to his anus. I was tempted to shove a thumb under his bunched speedo right at the crack and massage his opening, but I resisted because I didn't want to rush things. He might just want a hand job, or he might just be teasing the gay neighbor. If that turned out to be the case, he was a dick.

While still holding the bottom of his speedo as high as he could yank, essentially giving himself a gentle wedgy, he hooked his thumbs into the top band and pulled it down from his back. With that material bunched in each fist, he'd turned the speedo into a thong.

"Get way down my lower back too, please," he whispered.

I straddled him again, pressing my hands into his lower back, massaging over the red, white line that had been the border of his speedo, forcing his hands down a bit so that I could rub his nearly bare bum. How long before one of us suggested he just remove the swim suit. We were both lost in the bliss of foreplay, of anticipation.

A gas lawn mower roared to life from his neighbor's back yard on the opposite side from my yard. While there was a nice cedar hedge on the yard border, but it wasn't a perfect screen. It would look very weird to glimpse us so intimately entwinned.

I leaned in close to his ear, still massaging that firm bum. "We should get you out of the sun. I have a massage table in my basement if you'd like me to do a proper job."

"Awesome." He gave a sigh of relief. "I need a really good massage."

With a happy ending? Even if that's all he wanted I'd be so happy with that. I like giving guys pleasure. Even if he didn't want to reciprocate, I'd blow this guy or better yet, let him fuck me.

He stood and reached his hands over his head, twisting his lean figure from side to side as if stretching out kinks, his underarm hair light and red. My breath drew in at the sight. The circumcised head of his erection protruded several inches above the waist band the speedo, unable to contain his length. He had to be around seven inches, and the head was the same thickness as the shaft, making it a perfect torpedo. He wasn't trying to hide it in the least. In fact, he was showing it off. Oh awesome, my lips were going to be around that nice cock.

I didn't hide that I stared. "Nice," I said with a nod at his groin.

He met my eyes and gave that sly smile. "Thanks. Lead on to the massage table." He put a mischievous bit of emphasis on the word massage.

My heart pounded as I led him through the sliding door into my house. Was I overplaying my hand? Would he see my toys and rush in panic from my house, freaked out by my proclivities? I turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs and waved him into my unfinished basement with its painted cement floor and cinderblock walls.

"Welcome to the dungeon." I tried to say it with a disarming chuckle, but it came out more like a nervous giggle from an insane person.

He froze, taking in the wooden pillory, the X with the bracelets for binding, the manacles dangling on their chain from the wood trusses of the unfinished ceiling, and of course, the yellow massage table, a normal thing amidst the naughty. I had installed several tall mirrors around the basement, some on the walls and some on stands, all aligned so that the person in bondage could see various angles of their bodies, could watch their top as they fucked them. Like live porn, you could be the star and the voyeur.

"Holy fuck!" Elliot gave low whistle. "You are into some kinky shit."

He glided over to the pillory first, reaching up to pull down the upper board. He bumped it up and down a few times, lifted it and slipped his hand into one of the wrist holes, setting the upper board in place again. He pulled back a few times but his wrist was stuck as designed. I'd place foam around the wrist and neck holes after my first use to prevent chaffing. He lifted the upper board away and set his wrist free.

"Interesting" he said, giving me a sly glance. "So, I would kneel here." He knelt on the foam pad. "Then I rest my chest on this bench, and put my neck and wrist in these half holes, and then you close the top, and I'm trapped like one of those Puritan punishments, only you don't throw rotten tomatoes, you make me suck and fuck me." He bent over for a second in the position and I loved the show, and I would've loved to close the top, but he stood. "That where you put your victims?"

"I was the first person in that after I built it." The memory would've made me hard if I wasn't already.

"Oh-h-h-h, naughty. Did he fuck you, spank you?" As he moved toward the X, his hard-on still prominently sticking up from his swim suit, pinned to his stomach, he gave me another impish glance.

"A bit of both, and he made me blow him before he fucked me." If Caleb and Liam had been able to make it this weekend, I suspect they'd have both taken me in this device at the same time. We usually spun a bottle to see who would get to do what. It was a very exciting game.

"Hardcore." He reached up to the chains of the X, spread his feet and grabbed them, hanging off them as if he was secured there. He liked that I couldn't take my eyes off his nearly naked body. He also liked the mirrors, checking out his body from different angles. He shoved his butt back at me. "Do you like what you see?"

"I love what I see."

"I not really into spanking, but I am into toys and fun, maybe just a little spanking."

I pointed to my tool bench. He took the hint and checked it out. The vibrators and dildos were clean and neatly lined up. They started small and got bigger, the largest a replica dick with testicles. If things didn't happen with him, I'd fuck myself with that tonight.

"Hey," he held up the smallest one, a series of spheres the width of a thumb, all melded together to make an eight-inch-long vibrator. "Mine is a lot like this. Perfect for my tight little ass."

He turned and put his back to the tool bench, his hands holding it as he studied me, again flaunting his beauty, his flat stomach, his hard cock. "You should know I'm more hetero than gay. But after I lost all that weight over the winter, well, I like the way dude's like you, gay guys, look at me. I really like the way you're looking at me right now."

"You're fucking gorgeous."

"I bet you want to fuck me, suck me." Again, that sly smile. He pulled his speedo down so that his cock could stick straight out, his exotic red bush also on display.

I closed in, ready to fall to my knees and start sucking. "You know I do. What do you want to do?"

"First, I want my massage." He pushed his speedo down and stepped out of it, grabbing my hand and turning me to lead to the massage table. "We'll see after that."

He climbed up and lay with his face in the holder, his arms outflung, his legs slightly apart. I grabbed the massage oil of my tool bench and squirted some on his sun-burned legs. I started with both hands on his ankles and worked my way up to his bum, pale and sharply outlined by the sunburn on either side. I tried not to rush, but I couldn't wait to get my hands on his ass.

I spent a lot of time massaging his buttocks, my thumbs working closer and closer to the cleft, seeking his rosebud. He said he liked toys. He gave a moan of pleasure and spread his legs more, pushing up with his firm butt. I accepted the invitation. My index finger rubbed around the anus, working it until I sensed he was getting frustrated, then I slowly pushed it deep.

"Fuck yeah," he gasped. "This is the massage I want."

"A prostate massage? I can do that." I hooked my finger and found the walnut, rubbing around it, up and down.

"Oh, and in and out too. Hey, why are you still wearing clothes?" He looked over his shoulder and brought one hand down to tug at my shorts. "Strip!"

It wasn't a suggestion it was an order. Interesting.

I gently pulled my finger from him and quickly pulled off my shirt and dropped my shorts, but with my boxer briefs I like to put on a show. He raised himself on one elbow to watch as I slowly lowered them, my penis head trapped in by the elastic, so that my bush came in to view first, followed by my shaft, more and more, until finally my head popped free and my erection swung up and slapped my stomach. I dropped the boxers and stepped out of them.

"Holy fuck, nice fat head there, dude." He reached forward and grabbed it to squeeze, provoking a gasp from me as the stimulation forced a shudder of pleasure. "Do you fuck guys with that? It must hurt to go in."

I stood there with my dick in his hand, kind of ridiculous really. "I take a lot of time to help a guy open up to it. I don't like to cause pain."

He sprung off the table, not letting go of my dick, and used it to pull me close to him. "Okay then, let's start with your toys." He let go and turned to walk over to the X and assume the position while I stood there stunned at how comfortable he was with the games. He looked over his shoulder. "Hey, you gonna secure me in this thing or what?"

I hurried over and wrapped the leather straps around each of his wrists, securing them quickly with the Velcro. Each leather strap attached to a chain that went to an eye hook near the top of the X. I shortened each chain by going down links on the eye hooks until I stretched his arms into a taunt, but comfortable X. I knelt and strapped his ankles to the bottom of the X.

"Start with the small one." His tone dropped low with passion, anticipation.

I grabbed a condom and put it over the toy before I lubed it generously. Standing behind him, I caressed his perfect bottom with one hand while my lubed finger penetrated with the other. He pushed with his butt and groaned. He turned his head and checked himself out in the mirror on the right, aligned with another so that he could get a good profile of his own butt.

"Is that it?"

"No. That's my finger. This is it." I moved to the side so that he could see the toy as I pushed it against his rosebud and turned it on. The buzzing startled him.

"Oh fuck, wow. Yup." He lowered his head. "Push it! Get it in there."

His rectum parted and then closed over the first sphere.

"Fuck yeah!" he called. "More! I want it all."

I shoved harder, pausing between each sphere until they were all inside.

He bent his head, pushed out his butt and moaned with pleasure. "Oh fuck, dude. Out and back in, a bit faster this time. Fuck me with it!"

He pushed it out, and I shoved it back in, forcing a gasp. We did this for several minutes until, heaving for breath, he called a halt. "Ok, good with that one, kick it up a notch. Go for the second one."

This one was a true butt plug, thicker than the spheres. His anus resisted, puckering but not opening.

"Come on," he gasped. "Push it in." I pushed hard, insistent, and the anus parted and swallowed the plug, closing to leave only the handle out. I pressed the button in the middle, turning on the vibration.

"Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck! That's awesome." He hung his head between the X, gasping and moaning. "I you want to spank my bum, this is the time, but not too hard. I'm not a fan of pain."

The first slap on his right buttock was gentle, yet he lunged forward against the X as if I'd lashed him with a whip. A slap on the left buttock also forced another thrust, making his erection swing up and down. He liked the game. He liked thrashing about, watching his slim frame in the mirror as he writhed and pulled at his bonds. I kept the slaps pretty gentle, getting my thrill from his naked body alternately pushing out his bum and thrusting forward in response to my slaps. Even as gentle as I was, his butt began to shine red, so I stopped and massaged it, pressing in the pain, my erection touching first one cheek and then the other, sending ripples of pleasure up my member to my brain.

He moaned. "You want to fuck me, don't you?"

"Yup. But we can just do whatever you want."

He nodded. "Pull out the vibrator and set me free."

Disappointment washed over me, but I reminded myself that I hadn't expected any action this weekend, so everything I got was a plus. Maybe he'd still let me jack him off.

The butt plug needed quite the pull to get it out of his anus, and he groaned as I forced it down, his body's natural desire to empty taking over once it was passed the widest point. "That's fucking amazing," he gasped.

Once freed he turned and put his hands on my shoulders, pulling me closer, thrusting his hips forward so that our dicks could grind together in deep pleasure crushed between our flat stomachs. I cupped his beautiful bum to hold us tight. He looked me in the eye.

"Here's the deal. Other than my toy, I'm an anal virgin. I do want to lose my anal virginity today, but I want it completely on my terms and in my control. Complete control. Is that good?"

"That's awesome!" I leaned in for a kiss but he pulled back.

"That said," he pinched one of my nipples, sending a shudder of pleasure through me, "Is there a way I can tie you to your bed. I want to ride this fat headed cock just like I took that butt plug." He reached down playfully squeezed my cock head, and I damn near shot because I was so turned on.

"It's set up and ready to go. I'll lead the way."

My ass felt naked and vulnerable leading him up the stairs, yet knowing he watched it all the way also excited me. Did he like the view? Partway up the basement stairs a slap startled me. It stung pleasantly, so erotic.

"Come on!" he said with a laugh. "Hurry that nice ass up so I can get fucked." He slapped again and again all the way up to the top floor. I didn't rush, sticking my butt out between spanks, inviting more.

"Nice bed," he said as I closed the drapes against the afternoon sun. It was a four-poster of painted iron, a replica of a 19th century bed. I jumped on it and spread my arms and legs towards the posts.

"Oh, this is perfect." He pounced with the energy of a feral cat, straddling me, his knees on either side of my hips, our cocks grinding together.

"The ropes are slip knots." I was crazed with lust. "Just put my wrists through them, and I'll pull and be secured. I reached over to each post in turn, pulling free the ropes with the loops, which had just been hanging out of sight, the ends already tied to the iron posts.

Elliot eagerly slipped a rope over each wrist and pulled them tight, then he secured my ankles, pulling me into a taunt X. I lay at his mercy, and he took a moment to stand over me, his hand stroking up my leg, getting tantalizingly close to my erection. He glanced at himself in the tall mirror on the opposite wall from the bed, lined up so that anyone who fucked on that bed could watch a profile of their naked bodies.

"I've become such a narcissist," he said with an embarrassed smile when I busted him admiring his naked figure. "It only took losing a few pounds. And I totally love that you look at me like you want to lick me all over."

"You're so fucking gorgeous." I did crave to lick him all over, and right now I craved to suck his cock.

"I like your body." He rubbed his hand over my flat stomach. "I want to be like you in ten years, still fit and tight, no beer belly, no flab. Condoms?"

"In the drawer right there." I gestured with my eyes.

Precum dripped from my penis as he opened the package, so he picked some of it up with his finger and put it in my mouth. I sucked on his finger until he needed his hands. He unrolled the condom on me, sending a shudder through my whole body at his touch, my erection so sensitive. He lubed it up generously and reached behind to lube his own ass. He stood for a moment, groaning as he shoved fingers deep into himself, not embarrassed that I watched with lust.

"Ok, here's goes." He climbed on the bed and straddled my cock, my head throbbing with pleasure as he lined it up on his anus. He pushed down, but it seemed impossible that it would go into him.

His mouth open to gasp, his body froze, his eyes went to the mirror. That seemed to inspire him, for he put more weight onto it, changed to a squatting position and really pushed down. My head was slowly being squeezed by his hole, putting me up to the edge, gasping and struggling not to climax as he struggled to get my head inside. Gradually, his anus reluctantly widened.

"Oh fuck!" he shouted when my head popped in, consumed by his body. He froze, breathing heavily, pain and pleasure taking turns in his expression. "Why do I love this?" He hung there with just my head inside. He checked out the mirror again and so did I, this gorgeous red head, the freckles on his red shoulder, squatting on my cock.

"I'm about 75% hetero," he said between deep breaths. "But the 25% of me that's gay just loves having toys in my ass, coming with toys in my ass. I've been playing with it every time I jack off for over a year. I love being penetrated."

He relaxed his squat and let his weight force my cock deeper and deeper inside him until he was right down.

"Oh fuck, you're big!"

"Oh fuck, you're tight!"

He got out of the squat and now rested on his knees, holding me all the way inside, his eyes unfocused as he adjusted. He smelled of sunscreen and sweat, of condom and precum, which dripped tantalizing from the tip of his erection, hanging all the way down to my stomach, like a string joining us together on the outside, like the beginning of a spider web in which he'd caught me.

"I have a girlfriend back at college." He moved up a little and down a little on my cock, still getting used to my size. "I love her and I love fucking her, but I've always wanted this too." He rose up higher and sank down with a gasp. "My prefect fantasy is to fuck her while some twink like you fucks me." He rose up until just my head was still inside. "Fuck me like this!" He let himself slide back down, hard and fast this time. "Oh Fuck! Oh Fuck! Fuck me!"

I shoved up to comply, but he had all the control, just like he wanted. He began riding in earnest now, rising up and down, watching himself in the mirror, his erection bouncing, breaking the precum link and leaving it to pool on my abs, but more began the long drip, the string flailing with his bouncing dick.

"Oh my god," I said, my erection loving the thrusting, my orgasming building despite my best efforts, my erection squeezed so tight and rubbed ruthlessly. "You're so fucking hot."

He wrenched his gaze from the mirror and looked straight into my eyes.

"You like my body!" It was a statement. "I thought for sure when I started jacking on the lounge that you come out and fuck me. What was wrong with you?" He shoved down hard. "Oh Fuck."

"I was too messed up to get that you might want to get with me. I figured if you were gay, you'd been fucking guys at your college."

He rode with more of a frenzy, grabbing his dick now and jacking, one hand back on the bed so that he could arch his back and really thrust me deep. "I wanted to be fucked by you! Next time a guy starts jacking off in front of you, take the hint."

He scolded me, but with each sentence he fucked himself roughly, as if punishing himself for my cluelessness. I couldn't take much more and neither could he. We both grunted and gasped, the pressure building, a contest to see who would break first.

I did.

The explosion of my cock stunned even me, pulsing and pulsing, my body thrusting him into the air as I arched my back, him slamming down to meet me. We were joined as tightly as possible when he blew.

"Aw fuck!" he shouted as stream after stream erupted from his cock. The first shot went so far that it hit my cheek. I turned my head and opened my mouth wide so the second splashed on my tongue. The third hit under my chin, the fourth on my chest between my nipples. He ass clenched me so hard that I shot another round, still pulsing when I'd thought I was finished.

He just kept shooting the way only a guy in his twenties can shoot, a fifth pulse on my abs, I lost count after that, as he settled deep, both of us gasping, now still with my erection, very hard, buried all the way inside.

Just when I thought he was done he gave himself one last shuddering stroke, milking out one more shot of sperm. He trembled with the effort, the ecstasy. I lay there in complete bliss.

"Holy shit," he whispered as his breathing steadied. "That's what I needed. Thanks for popping my cherry."

"Oh, you did that. I was just the dildo."

"Oh dude." He pressed his hand into my chest, massaging in his sperm while he rode my still hard cock gently, winding down. "A warm living cock with a hot guy thrusting up is way better than a dildo."

He wiped the sweat of his forehead and shook his red curls as his whole body shuddered with relief.

"Remember," he said meeting my eyes, playfully scooping some of his salty come off my chin and pushing it into my mouth, "The next time you see me jacking off in the dark, grab some condoms and come fuck me. We're going to have an awesome summer. And I promise I'll fuck you too. What are you doing after dinner. I'd like to see you in that stock thing."

"The pillory? I'm all yours." I meant it.