Date: Mon, 30 Aug 1999 15:30:20 0100
From: Stephan Raven <stephan_raven@gay-mail.net>
Subject: The Red Swim-Trunks Affar - Part Two

See Part One for disclaimers and thanks

Josh had had an uncomfortable couple of minutes slipping out of the back of
the store. The stupid outsized T-shirt made him feel as though he were
wearing a dress, the sandals on his feet kept flapping, and the massive
swelling between his legs, painfully crammed into the ridiculously tiny red
trunks, made it difficult to walk straight.

But he'd made it, and now he was standing beside his new buddies' car.

Oh boy. If cars were phallic symbols, this one was in the Ken Ryker class. It
was a conglomeration of smooth, organic curves that cried out of power, speed,
danger and animal lust. Open-top, lean, low, and totally black, from the
flawless paint job, glistening liquidly in the sun, though the matte dash with
its array of high-tech instruments, to the leather of the upholstery.

Real black leather. He could smell it from where he stood. The associations sent
yet another pulse through his abused cock, and he inwardly cursed the tightness
of the damned trunks once more.
Marlboro Man was seated in the driver's seat, with Surfer Dude sprawled in the
back. They both grinned broadly as they saw him, and Surfer Dude patted the seat
beside him.

He don't bother with the door, instead swinging straight over into the seat,
careful to lift the T-shirt enough to give the Surfer a close-up of his swollen
bulge. Surf Dude licked his lips.

"Still hard as fuck", he told Marlboro Man in a low voice. "Looks like the
deal's still on".

The engine started with a throaty purr, like the rumble of satisfaction from
some great cat. The sound made Josh feel powerful, predatory; he sprawled back
in his seat, surveying these two studs through heavily lidded eyes, and started
thinking about what he was going to do with them - and to them.

The traffic was light, and the lean black car was soon racing along at a
tremendous rate. The hot wind tugged at the edge of the loose T-shirt, lifting
it slightly and bringing just a peek of Josh's Lycra-clad erection into view.
Surfer Dude was hypnotised. His bright blue eyes never left Josh's crotch area,
as he licked his lips again and unconsciously rubbed the bulge in his jeans.
Josh spread his legs slightly, relishing the attention ... and suddenly got an
idea.

It was dangerous, racing along a public highway in an open car, but his hormones
were raging out of control, fogging his reason. Slowly, he pulled up the T-shirt
and peeled down the swim trunks, the thrill of danger only adding to his
exhibitionistic enjoyment of the act.

Surf Dude was as far gone as he was. Without a moment of hesitation, he lowered
his head and gulped down the meat that Josh was offering him.

Oh, yeah ... this, thought Josh, was a different kind of satisfaction from the
frantic fuck in the changing cubicle. Slower, more languid. He threw back he
head and closed his eyes, relaxing every muscle in his body except the one
between his legs. He relished the soft warmth of the sun on his face, the gritty
breeze slipping under his raised T-shirt, teasing his nipples back into
rigidity, the incredible suction on his dick. Surf Dude evidently liked to take
his meat right down, and Josh could feel his cockhead bruising the back of the
blonde's throat, along with the repeated swallowing constrictions around the
engorged rod. He inhaled deeply, drawing in the smell of the dark leather around
him as if it were a drug. So what if someone saw him ... fuck what they thought ...
fuck the world ...

What a thought! Fuck the world! Africans and Asians and Europeans, blonde and
dark, teenage boys hurling themselves into the sex with the unbridled eagerness
of hungry puppies, gym-toned hardbodies, hairy roughnecks ... a whole world of
men, queued up to gratify his lust ... The combination of the awesome blow-job and
the vague fantasy started to push Josh towards orgasm again, and he pulled Surf
Dude's face away from his groin, determined not to waste such a massive cum on a
quickie BJ, however good.

The hot breeze felt cool against his now saliva-coated prick, helping him to
ease off a little. The wetness made the wind tickle against his sensitive glans,
sending little stabs of pleasure through him.
He caught Marlbobo Man's eye in the rear-view mirror, and a shared moment of
burning lust passed between them

Marlboro Man was holding the discarded trunks in one hand, Josh saw. His dark
eyes widened as he saw the older guy slowly and deliberately lift them to his
face and lick the damp stain in the front where Josh's precum had leaked out.

They'd turned off the main road into what looked like a private driveway. Classy
place ... a long gravel drive, lined with trees, making the boy feel as if he were
plunging down a long, green tunnel...

Fuck it! Couldn't he think of any image that didn't send a sexual pulse stabbing
through his cock-root?

The car pulled up at the end of the driveway, and Josh saw he was right. A big
place, very classy. Probably built last year, but designed to look as if it'd
been here since before Columbus landed - wooden beams, weathered stone, the lot.
His heart started pounding in his chest. This was it. This was where he got to
use these incredible studs as his personal sexual playthings. A teenage boy, in
utter command of two grown men ... for a moment, he wondered idly whether it was
he or they who found that thought most exciting.

The car pulled up, and Marlboro Man swung his long, shapely legs over the door.
He looked across at Josh.

"No-one around here to see".

The implication was obvious, but Josh just grinned back as he scrambled out of
the car. "You first - slave".

Marlboro Man swallowed hard. "Yes, Master". Swiftly, he kicked away his trainers
and peeled out of his clothes, allowing Josh to savour the full impact of his
hairy masculinity once again.

Josh gestured at Surfer Dude, who was now standing beside him, enjoying the
show. "Hold him. No matter how hard he struggles, don't let him escape".

Marlboro Man obeyed instantly, gripping Surf Dude in an arm-lock. Surfer Dude
had obviously picked up the cue about struggling, and writhed against his captor
in an exaggerated attempt to work his way loose. His movement made his
denim-clad ass rub up against Marlboro Man's naked cock, and Marlboro Man jerked
violently, almost losing his grip before he got control of himself.

Josh tossed away the stupid T-shirt, proudly displaying his nakedness to his two
... victims?
Surfer Dude's chest was heaving as he struggled against his buddy's grip. One of
his nipples was appearing and disappearing through a rip in his shirt in time
with his grasping breath. Josh allowed himself to be drawn by the sight for a
few moments, idly flicking a fingernail out to catch little, stinging blows on
the brown nub.

Enough, the lad decoded. He slipped his hands through the largest rip in the
shirt, and pulled with all his strength.

The worn material tore very nicely. Throwing it aside, Josh went for the jeans.
Those looked too tough to rip, so he just yanked the belt open and pulled them
down.

That superbly shaped cock sprang out at him, the head more red than pink now
from Surfer Dude's excitement. He was playing his part well, though, moaning
pleas to release him and not to hurt him.
For a moment, Josh crouched down by Surfer Dude's groin, licking the sweaty
balls and inhaling their aroma. Then he straightened up and looked over at
Marlboro Man.

"Bend him over".

Marlboro Man probably couldn't have managed that if Surfer Dude really wanted to
escape, of course, but he made it look good. Josh flicked out his tongue as that
perfect pink asshole came into view once again, and dripped his saliva down into
the crack.

First one of his fingers, then two, then three, worked their way into the
opening. Oh yeah ... that little pink ring might have looked virginal, but this
wasn't the first time it'd been stretched by an invader. Yes, thought Josh to
himself, he was gonna have fun fucking this...

He glanced at Marlboro Man for a second. "This weakling's whining irritates me",
he told the older guy in his best Conan the Barbarian voice. "Gag him".

Marlboro Man understood perfectly. "Forcing" Surf Dude's mouth open with one
hand, he rammed his prick in, all the way to the hilt. Surf Dude gagged and
choked, but didn't pull back. Josh worked his fingers deeper inside that
inviting asshole, reaching around with his other hand to caress the straining
cock.

Abruptly, Marlboro Man gasped.  Frantically, he yanked his dick free of Surf
Dude's mouth, but it was too late.  Five ropes of creamy white cum went flying
over Surf Dude's back. The first actually went far enough to start dribbling
down into his crack, but the last tangled itself into the long, blonde hair.

Josh wrenched his fingers free of Surf Dude's tunnel and stalked across to
Marlboro Man. "You DARE to cum without my permission, slave?"  he asked. At the
back of his mind, a cynical little voice told him he'd feel a real dork for
saying this tomorrow, but he told it to fuck the hell off and let him enjoy his
fantasy.

Marlboro Man was leaning against the hood of the car, eyes glazed from the force
of the orgasm. "Forgive me, Master", he gasped.

"There shall be no forgiveness, slave", Josh told him. (And shut the hell up,
Inner Voice, he mentally added. This is porno dialog, not fucking Shakespeare).
"Where in this place are disobedient slaves sent for punishment?"

"Let me show you, Master" Surf Dude offered eagerly, still bent over. Marlboro
Man dropped out of character for a second, shooting an I'll-get-he for-this look
at his blonde buddy.

Josh pulled Surfer Dude up into a French kiss, rubbing Marlboro Man's cum into
his back as their tongues slid against one another. "Show me", he commanded.

Surfer Dude led the way into the house, Marlboro Man trailing behind him. Josh
took a moment to look at Marlboro Man's cock, still impressive even in its
half-deflated state, and then trailed along behind, his eyes admiring the tight,
muscular asses swaying in front of him.

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