Date: Mon, 21 Dec 1998 10:58:39 EST
From: Roarrr201@aol.com
Subject: Fucked Up

FUCKED UP

Copyright 1998 Roarrr201@aol.com
All Rights Reserved.


Warning: If you are offended by graphic descriptions of sex between men,
you should stop reading now.

This story is a fantasy. People frequently have unsafe sex in it - please
don't feel encouraged to do the same. You might risk your life.


FUCKED UP
Part I and II


I.

Defending an exhibitionist is not exactly a lawyer's dream. But some
lawyers don't have much choice - especially young lawyers. I was a young
lawyer - as young as a fully trained lawyer can be. Good-looking, too, but
- as I had to admit at least to myself - not very bright. Just average,
alas - or maybe even a little less than that. So I was glad to take on this
utterly hopeless case of a man accused of "lewd and lascivious
behaviour". There was nothing much that could be done: the man had been
caught in flagrante delicto and he had even confessed to have "exposed his
aroused penis" in public (as the police report coyly put it) on several
occasions earlier on.

But still there were some bucks to be made with this case - and I needed
bucks desparately. So I put on my glasses and my expensive suit, phoned my
colleague and buddy Bob to hear his advice on the case, had a short but
nasty quarrel with Kate, my girlfriend, about my financial prospects in
general and the financial prospects of his case in particular, headed to my
posh convertible and drove off to meet my very first client. Actually I
don't need glasses (so they were made of plain glas) but I believed that
appearances mattered. So I wore glasses because I hoped that they would
lend me some dignity and a more intellectual air - yeah, I was that kind of
a guy back then. Young, completely inexperienced in my profession, blond,
tall, well-built and handsome in a rather non-descript way I feared most of
all that people would not take me seriously as a professional. Also my name
added to this problem: I'm called Jay LeJeune - and I was afraid that name
combined with my features and physique wouldn't impress people.  So I had
to look for something else and came up with glasses and posh utensils. Like
almost all my possessions suit and car belonged more to the bank than to
myself, but - as said before - I believed that appeareances mattered - and
tried desparetely to make a living and meet the next installment of my huge
loan.

So you could say that I was in some ways pretty much fucked-up already at
the morning of that beautiful summer day when I headed to the jail to take
on my first case: I was in a severe and constant monetary crisis and I was
in crisis with Kate again - or to be more precise: we had never been in
anything but in crisis. Little did I know that I would be much more
fucked-up by the end of the day - literally.

Driving fast with the car's top down in the warm summer air on the long,
winding road to the remote prison where Mr.Jepson, the exhibitionist, was
held in custody while awaiting trial I felt at ease and happy. For as long
as the ride lasted I forgot all my problems, but that elated feeling
vanished quickly when I entered the grey, imposing prison with its long,
reverberating halls and its stale smell. This was not going to be fun - I
knew it then. A guard showed me into a small room without windows, bare
except for a desk, two chairs, lit by a very bright neon light and left,
going on his errand to bring Jepson to our meeting.

I sat behind the desk and waited for my client. Browsing nervously through
the file I came once again across the man's photo. Like the day before my
eyes got glued to the picture: I wondered why on earth Jepson had fun in
what he did. Nor could I understand why he did it. The man was not
bad-looking even on this police snapshot that was in all likelyhood very
unflattering. In his forties, square-jawed, with full sensuous lips, dark,
brooding eyes, very hairy eyebrows and a strong stubble he looked
definitely like a rough guy who liked to have things his way but not like a
loon or a desperate pervert. If I had been honest to myself (which I was
not) I would have had to admit that I felt strangely fascinated by the
man's eyes: coal-black and inscrutable they dominated the face and seemed
to exude a masculine strength, a kind of power, that I felt painfully
lacking in myself. Don't get me wrong - I'm not frail, not at all. I'm in
pretty good shape: I've got broad shoulders, nice, firm pecs, strong arms -
all that stuff. But for some reasons I still look more slender than
muscular and I'm definitely not a "he-man" like this guy. I'm just not the
type, you know.

I shifted uneasily in the chair behind the desk and suddenly wanted to
leave and get out of the whole thing. When the perpetrator finally appeared
in the door-frame I was surprised by the man's size. Somehow I had expected
him to be small but Jepson was huge, really huge: more than six feet tall
and very powerfully built. The shabby inmate uniform could not hide the
enormous strength of his body - he seemed to fill shirt and trousers until
he strained the seams of the bleached demin, worn by too many washings. The
thin fabric outlined the muscular contours of a sculptured chest, a flat
abdomen and long, chiseled legs. His head set atop a bull-like neck that
spread into a broad pair of strong shoulders from which hung two heavily
muscled arms. The sleeves had been rolled up to mid-biceps and seemed to
accent the strong forearms that were coated with thick, stiff, black hairs
that covered also the back of his huge hands and appeared in small tufts
even on his long, iron-strong fingers. The shirt was open at the throat,
exposing a triangular patch of well-tanned and very hairy chest. I could
also not help to notice a large, very prominent bulge at the man's crotch
that tented his trousers. The guard annouced that he would be ready to let
us out when given a signal and disappeared, locking the door behind him.

Silently Jepson walked up to the desk, his dark eyes unblinkingly set on my
face. You could see a great pack of muscles shifting under the fabric of
his clothes when he moved.

Feeling myself suddenly strangely frail and weak in front of this bear of a
man I rose to my feet. Much to my dismay I blushed under the man's stare
and - annoyed that I couldn't put on a bold front even in such an
inconsequential situation - blushed even more. Somehow I managed to
introduce myself despite my apparent embarrasment. We shook hands
briefly. As I had expected by then the grip of Jepson's hand was crushingly
strong. He gave me just a nod and a short grunt, that could have meant
anything, and then slumped into the offered seat, still staring intently at
me. Absent-mindedly he scratched his broad chest: a few more buttons gave
way and his shirt fell open so that still more of the thick mat of
glistening, black hair that covered his broad, muscle-plated chest was
revealed. The man felt obviously very much at ease: with a feline grace he
reclined in the chair, his hips thrust forward, his strong legs spread
wide. In this position his "private parts" were even more prominent: the
outlines of a pair of two huge balls and a fat, thick dick that sneaked
down the left leg of his trousers were clearly visible in his tight pants.

Even in prison Mr. Jepson was obviously still into showing off his goods. I
found myself staring at the contours of his dick and wondered if the man
was walking around with a raging hard-on or if this obviously mighty rod
could be still soft. The later seemed to me improbable - but I did know
nothing about other men's dicks back then. This has changed since that
day. It's one of the many things that have changed in my life since that
day. Now I know that some men are endowed with dicks that are fatter when
still soft than the fully erect hard-ons of other, more ordinary guys. And
I know now that Jepson is one of these men.

Back then I wasn't sure and wondered - and starred. I don't know how long
exactly my eyes were glued to Jepson's crotch but I'm pretty sure that it
was just a short moment. When I reverted my eyes from his arrogantly
displayed dick I had to realize that I had made a mistake: Jepson had
already noticed my wide-eyed stare at the huge bulge in his pants - and it
pleased him. A faint smile played on his full lips. Suddenly I remembered
that according to the police all of his "victims" had been male. Till then
this information had not been important to me - now it added greatly to my
embarrasment. I felt myself blushing again and made a vow to act henceforth
very cool and aloof.

So I ignored the man's provocative posture and tried - as I had been told
to do - to establish some kind of personal relationship with him, asking
for his wishes, inquiring how the guards treated him. Rattling nervously on
and on it took me some moments to realize that the man answered none of my
questions. He just sat there and stared at me. Genuinely annoyed I
interrupted myself and looked the man right into the eyes:

"Everything okay, Mr.Jepson?"

A long, awkward silence ensued. Jepson gave the impression of a man lost in
reverie. He scrathed his chest again but gave no sign that he had heard my
question. His dark eyes were like that strange astronomic phenomenon, the
black holes, that absorb everything in their vicinity, even the light. I
began to consider the possiblity that the man might be nuts.

Then he spoke for the first time. His voice was boomingly deep but soft and
throaty. He said:

"I like your lips."

I was completeley taken by surprise. The hair at my neck rose to its
end. My mind went blank and for a long moment I just stared at the man
opposite the desk, telling myself over and over again that I must have
misunderstood him. Later on I remembered that even my jaws had dropped: in
retrospective I'm sure that I looked pretty silly at that moment. When I
came back to my senses I snapped:

"What's that?"

His gaze still locked on my face, his voice firm, self-assured and
completely at ease, Jepson said:

"I like your lips. They look... hot. You're a hot man."

This time I was prepared. I shook my head contemptingly and barked in my
most agressive tone:

"Look, Mr.Jepson, please stop this crap. You're in trouble, in serious
trouble and I'm here to help you out of it. So let's get down to business
right now. You are accused..."

I had intented to go on and on like a true professional but somehow Jepson
succeeded in interrupting me although he didn't even raise his voice:

"You're cut? Tell me, Mr.LeJeune. Tell me."

I hesitated for a brief moment, searching in my mind for a reproof much
stronger than the first one. Right then he said:

"My dick is uncircumcised, you know."

Okay, I've said that I'm not too bright but that's not to say that I'm
dumb, either. So I knew why he said this right when the words had passed
his lips: I knew that he mentioned his dick only because he wanted me to
look at his crotch again, to have me staring at his cock once again. Just
the strange emphasis he managed to put on the words "my dick" told you
everything. So it was easy to see through him. It was not so easy to act
accordingly. At least not for me.

It's hard to explain and maybe you'll think that I'm really, really dumb
despite what I think about myself - but I just had to do it. I couldn't
help it. I couldn't. Although I knew exactly what I had to do to spoil
Jepson's game - or to be more precise: had to avoid to do - I found that my
eyes nevertheless wandered down to the man's crotch as if they were drawn
down there by some kind of magnetism. I had to see it. I had to look at his
dick. I just had to.

The bulge in Jepson's trousers had grown to even more impressive
dimensions: his dick that had already tented the tight fitting pants before
was now much larger and thicker and obviously still swelling. Jepson
brought down one of his strong, hairy hands and slowly, playfully began to
outline the contours of his huge cock under the rough fabric with his
fingers, squeezing the shaft playfully from time to time. I could clearly
see the fat cockhead that capped the length of the meaty, still engorging
rod. My mouth went dry and I felt overwhelmed by a strange, unknown
panic. The blood pulsed so noisly in my ears that I had some trouble to
understand what the man said when he spoke again:

"Like what you see, Mr.Lejeune? I knew you would like it - I knew it right
when I saw you. I know your type."

My eyes still glued to the sight of Jepson's now rapidly enlarging dick I
somehow managed to voice my protest:

"This is impossible, Mr.Jepson. I cannot possibly do my job here under
these circumstances. Stop this right now or'll have to leave!"

Instead of giving an answer Jepson rose to his feet. I started and a quick,
uncontrolled movement of my right hand sent the file - Jepson's file - that
had been lying on the desk flying down. Sheets of paper spread all over the
floor. Cursing and forgetting the man for a short moment I rose, then
dropped down to my knees and began to collect them. My hands full of paper
I heard a movement behind me and turned around, still squatting on my
haunches. I froze and gasped.

Right before me, only a few inches away from my face was Jepson's cock -
fully exposed now because the man had dropped his pants down to his
ankles. It was also completley erect. Rockhard. And it was huge - a giant
of a dick. Protruding from a thick bush of dark hair at the man's crotch
stood a mast of solid flesh almost ten inches long. The shaft was perfectly
round, straight as an arrow and easily more than four inches thick. It was
corded, laced with several large, jagged, bluish veins, pulsing and
throbbing with excitement that raced under the soft skin towards the huge
cockhead. On the shaft's underside, a bulging, meandering urethra ran up
the whole length of inch after inch of cock shaft, disappearing into the
solid flesh only as it neared the flared edges of the large,
mushroom-shaped head. He was indeed uncut. I could see that. The foreskin
was completely drawn back, forming a kind of collar behind the ridge of the
corona. The skin of the cockhead was extremely smooth and shiny, glistening
enticingly in a light pink. The large, vertical piss-hole, clearly outlined
by two thin lines of a deeper red, winked at me. A drop a shimmering, clear
lube appeared in the slit, gathering and growing like a drop of water in a
leaking faucet. When it became too large the glob dropped to the floor,
drawing a silvery string of the sticky fluid behind. Below this
overpoweringly impressive pole of cock meat hung two hairy, thick-skinned
nuts any stallion would have been eager to own. The huge, almost perfectly
spherical balls were amazingly active, rolling slowly around in their sac,
easily, excitedly. The man's fat, rock-hard dick emanated a strong heat
that seemed to burn my lips. The shaft pulsed and throbbed slowly, swaying
gently up and down in tiny, almost imperceptable movements. It was the
image of male strenght and power, a power that still lay waiting but was
ready to break loose any second.  I gazed in awe and wonder as if
transfixed, inable to move.

I had never seen another man's hard dick before and couldn't believe my
eyes. The sight of the stiff, swollen, unbending bar of meat, of its
incredible, undulating thickness made my mind spin. I had never imagined
that such a huge cock could exist on a man. Of course I had seen bare men
in showers and dressing-rooms and sometimes I had wondered how these soft,
fat dicks that dangled before my eyes might look in full arousal. But I had
never seen a hard cock besides my own. My dick is not bad at all: almost
seven inches long and fat too. But it seemed like nothing compared to this
hunk of a cock. I noticed the strong, manly smell that emanated from
Jepson's crotch. It was the smell of sweat and of... of... of... At first I
didn't know what it was or maybe I just pretended not to know. But then it
hit me like a stroke and I almost fainted when I finally realized that he
smelled not just of sweat, but also of cum - yeah, of jism, of semen, of
man juice. This smell finished me completely off: I felt myself crushed by
a power too strong to fight. I was lost.

Out of the corner of my eyes I noticed that Jepson had also lost his
shirt. I looked up and took in the sight of his torso. It was - just as his
dick - incredible: hugely muscled, arms with biceps the size of
grapefruits, broad muscle-packed shoulders, the chest like that of a weight
lifter, tiny, erect nipples, hard, small waist. Looking up at him from
below made his massiveness even more dominant. It served to emphasize the
slabs of muscle that made up his awe-inspiring, hairy physique. His torso
was completely covered with a generous mat of thick, black hair: it
surrounded his stiff tits and gathered between his firm, bulging pectorals
to flow down over the muscle etched belly to expand even more and surround
his giant dick and his huge balls with a forest of wiry, strong hair.

Involuntarily I licked my dry lips. Shivers ran down my spine. I felt the
man's excitement and that excited me too. It excited me more than anything
else that I had experienced before. Confined in my expensive slacks and
briefs, my cock started to swell up. I was hot and felt ashamed for it. I
had never done anything with a man before - and here I was, kneeling before
a man, breathing hard, transfixed by the sight of rockhard cock and getting
hotter and hotter, my dick growing and swelling up.

"Like it?," Jepson asked, his voice all hoarse and husky.

I gave no answer. Breathing hard I couldn't speak but I kept staring at the
man's dick and stayed on my knees, feeling to weak to move. Jepson grinned
to himself.

"Yeah, you like cock. You love the sight of a big, hot, juicy dick, all
hard, don't you? It's big, huh? Very big. You're really turned on by my
fat, hard joint. It makes you hot to see my dick, huh?"

He wrapped his strong fingers and his sweaty palm fully around his rockhard
dick, squeezing exploratively, and then began to run his hands slowly back
and forth. He started to beat his hot meat right in front of my face,
stroking, peeling the snug foreskin back, leaving the bulbous, fat cockhead
naked, satin-smooth, and then pushing the foreskin slowly, ever so slowly
back, upwards. Just after a few slow movements of his hand the shaft, that
incredible length of virility, started to look even more swollen. It was
strained to bursting, glowing, and ropy veins popped to the surface. I felt
the movement of the air that he created with his pumping fist on my cheeks
and had difficulties to breathe. Then he spoke in a soft whisper,
accompanying the slow movements of his hand, inaudible to anyone but to me,
the young, blushing man, his lawyer, who kneeled before him and watched his
movements reverently.

"Yeah, have a good look at it... have a good look at my dick...  it's all
hard for you to see... look it over... screen it with your
eyes.... carefully.... every inch of it... all ten hard inches... all the
way up from my hairy balls... the whole shaft... hard, thick, and
throbbing... up to the head... and back again...  take your time...  come
closer...  to have a better look... come as close as you want... I can feel
your breath on my hard dick... your breath is hot... brushing over my
skin... it feels hot on my cock... makes it jump and twitch... getting
still harder... it makes you hot, the sight of my dick...  hard and stiff,
doesn't it?... you're all excited.... you're hot for it... I knew you would
like it... would love the sight of big, fat man dick... it's beautiful,
isn't it?...  it's long...  and thick... really thick...  not many guys
have a cock like that... that's why so many like the sight of it... getting
all excited when I show it to them... all the ten inches... rockhard and
fat... staring at it... at my hard dick... like you... mouth
open... breathing hard... devouring it with their
eyes... unblinking... wanting it... adoring my huge, fat dick... you want
it, don't you?... tell me you want it! Tell me!"

My mind was spinning. My dick was achingly hard and I wanted to touch the
man, to run my hands over his strong, hairy torso, to grap his huge,
rockhard cock, to do... I didn't know what I wanted to do with his
dick. But still I felt unable to move. You have to know that I had always
considered myself to be a "men's man". Women had somehow never played a
really important part in my life. My relationships with members of the
opposite sex had been invariably difficult and short; Kate was just the
last in a long row of girls I had made unhappy over the course ot the years
(and who had made me unhappy too). Friends - buddies - the guys - they had
been important, they were special and they had counted. Bob, whom I had
asked for advice before I drove off to the prison, was one of them; maybe
my closest buddy at the moment, but still just a buddy. I had never thought
of him or of one of the other guys in this way, had never dared to think
that I wanted a man in this way... sexually aroused... and that it would
arouse me.

I gulped down hard and with the greatest effort managed to mutter weakly
just one word:

"Please..."

I had intended to add something like 'stop this' but then my voice failed
me. So Jepson heard what he wanted to hear, what he had asked me to say. I
had obeyed him.

The man had by then began to pump his dick just a little bit faster. His
strong fingers stroked the pulsing, thick rod more urgently, the head
bright and glittery with cock juice, smeared with slithery,
foreskin-gliding lube. Playfully he pulled the thinly-veined foreskin up
over the huge cockhead until its pink, glistening skin was completely out
of sight and then he pushed the loose skin slowly back to expose the
prick-head once again to the room's glaringly bright light. I watched in
wonder, staring with unblinking eyes, fascinated by the slippery flap that
moved so nicely and snugly up and down the fat, huge cockhead when Jepson
stroked it. He wrapped his other hand around the base of his giant dick,
encircling it in a tight grip, still pumping with the other hand on the
huge, throbbing shaft, up and down, up and down. He spoke again:

"You're making me hot, man... really hot... your eyes on my
dick... rockhard and throbbing... hot... so hot... look... look,
man... it's starting to leak now... slimy pre-cum... see that drop at the
tip... that's only the beginning... there's more... that's just a tiny
drop... see... I'm spreading it over the cockhead now... making it shiny
and slippery... very slippery...  look... there's more pre-cum
now... ozzing out... a steady stream... oohhh... that feels so good... my
dick all wet and slippery... my fingers gliding up and down on the thick
shaft... throbbing... so hard... so hot... me jackin' off in front of
you... right before your face... right before your eyes... I can feel them
on my dick... gettin' harder and harder... your eyes staring at it... feel
like a touch... on my skin... hot... so hot."

He set but a steady rhythm of tight-fisted strokes, spreading the generous
stream of pre-cum that oozed out of the gaping piss-slit in the huge head
of his dick over the entire length of his mighty rod, keping it slickly
juiced up with flowing pre-cum. Then his fingers moved faster, making
smacking, juicy sounds on the stiff, wet shaft that throbbed and leaped on
its own strength within the slippery grip of the man's lube-juiced fist.

I watched glassy-eyed, unable to force my gaze away from the sex show the
strong, muscular man put on for me. Excitement coursed through my body and
the tension in my rockhard dick that was still encased in my tight briefs
was almost unbearable. My cock started to leak pre-cum and I felt that it
began to stain my briefs.  I had never been so hot in my whole life - but
still I did not dare to move, feeling myself torn between the rationale
thought that all this was crazy and a lust much stronger than I had know
before. I despised my weakness, my inability to react - and knew that it
was exactly this passiveness that excited Jepson. The tought that the man
had probably felt it in me right when he set eyes on me depressed me - here
was a man who had not been deceived by my carefully designed appearance. I
knew how little was needed to stop Jepson - probably one movement of my
hand towards the man's pulsing, throbbing dick would be have been enough to
spoil his fun - but my body denied to act accordingly.

So I crouched before Jepson and stared at the man's quickly moving hand
around his thick cockshaft that he was stroking faster and faster now,
pumping the throbbing, jerking rod in steadily tighter milking
pressure. Amazed I heard myself stutter once again weakly:

"Please..."

I didn't know why I had said this. But Jepson had no difficulties to read
the dark side of my mind. As he had said he knew my type.

"You want my cum?... you want to see the cum shootin' out of my
dick?... spurting out of the gaping slit in the head... shootin' high up
into the air... huge globs of white jism... sweet, smelly cum... hot man
juice... exploding out of my rockhard cock... flying through the air
towards you... hitting your skin... sprayin' your face... glob after glob
after glob... sticky, white jism... my cum... all over your face... hitting
your nose... your cheeks... your hair... running down... leaking down... in
long rivulets... over your lips... over your chin... dripping down on your
shirt... on your hands... my hot cum all over your body... you want it... I
know you want it... you're begging for it... eager not to miss the moment
when it starts to gush forward... starts to shoot out... you want to see
it... and to feel it on your skin... hot and
slimy... sticky... tasty... and you'll get it... I'll give you what you
want... watch out... watch out for it... I'll give you what you want!"

A strange and devastating ecstasy washed over me, my cock jerking
spasmically in my pants, my balls aching agonizingly with the hunger
generated by the sight of Jepson's throbbing, hard ramrod. I'm sure if I
had dared to touch my dick, if I had dared just to squeeze it through my
pants I would have shot my load right then and right into my briefs. But I
was not bold enough to do that. I sat uncomfortably on my haunches, my
knees aching, breathing hard, my hands trembling, staring wide-eyed at the
man in front of me who played joyously to the gallery, preparing his climax
and talking dirty at the same time:

"Ohhh, man... I'm coming close...  prepare yourself for a mighty load... a
really mighty load... I know I'll cum in buckets... I have been building a
load for days on end...  I haven't cum since I was brought here... no real
privacy in here, you know... I always shoot a mighty load... but now
there'll be even more... much more... gallons of cum... gallons of my
jism... shooting out... spraying all over you... coating your
face... flooding the room... ohhh, I'm close... my balls are
tingling... aching... aching to unload... all that jism... accumulated for
so long... accumulated in my huge, hairy balls... for you... for you to
watch me cum... like I never came before."

Jepson stood with his strong legs spread as wide as possible, his balls
swinging freely back and forth with each of his movements, slapping at the
palm of the hand that held his giant dick in a tight grip. He worked his
cockhead with the rubbery, slippery hood of foreskin, peeling and
re-covering the lube-slick crown as he jerked in turns agonizingly slow and
then for a short moment very fast, grunting with the effort of delaying his
eruption. I heard myself gasped and whimper and my eyes darted from the
man's throbbing ramrod to his heaving chest and bulging pecs. Sweat covered
his strong torso and made it shine under the bright light.

And then Jepson was ready. He squeezed the shaft of his dick hard, but it
was too late to restrain his cum. He shouted:

"Ohhh, holy shit.... man... I'm... I'm loosing it... loosing my load!
Too...  goddamm... hot.... and sexy! Here...  man...  here comes my
load... I'm cumming... right before your eyes! Here it is! Look! Look at my
dick! Look at my dick.... now!Now!
I'm... I'm... cummming... cummming... for you, man! "

And then he froze, every muscle taut, straining, and he arched his pelvis
sharply, shuddering, his head thrown back into the neck, his mouth wide
open, the eyes tightly shut. He held his throbbing, jerking dick at the
base in a tight grip and aimed the head towards me, posed at the brink of
explosion. Holding my breath for long seconds I watched with unblinking
eyes as the giant dick throbbed, expanded and swelled even more. Then one
final throb as the first explosive spurt of glistening, white jism arched
from the swollen, dilated lips of his cockhead, shot through the air like a
rocket, almost audibly it seemed to me, as though breaking the sound
barrier, to fly high, arch sharply, and splatter juicily on my cheek, right
beside my nose, oozing thickly and syrupy down towards my jaws, liquifying
my skin, to seep lazily down on my neck. My whole body shook as if I were
suffering from a shivering fit. Another glob of cum erupted out of Jepson's
jerking, throbbing dick and shot up, hitting my cheek closer to the lips
this time. Although completely dazed I managed to move some inches to the
side. Still spunk cascaded frenziedly from the gaping lips of Jepson's
glistening, throbbing cockhead. His cum arched and fell to the floor where
it landed with a very soft sound, only to be follow by another glob of jism
and another one and still another one. He held his promise: he really shot
gallons of cum. I watched with glazed eyes how jet after jet of creamy cum
erupted from the man's pulsing, twitching dick. Each blob of his cum shot
high up into the air, seemed to freeze for a brief moment and then fell to
the ground.

Finally this torrent of cum that shot out of Jepson's giant dick lost its
power and it turned into a steady stream of jism that generously coated his
palm and fingers. His body stopped writhing and very slowly he regained his
breath. His eyes still glued to my face Jepson then lifted his hand to his
mouth and, purring like a cat, began slowly to lick it clean from his own
cum. I watched as his tongue darted out of his lips again and again,
washing lewdly, methodically over each of his cum-smeared fingers,
collecting his own jism into his mouth and gulping it down with apparent
relish. He grinned at me triumphantly.

I turned crimson red, realizing what had just happened and rose, turning my
back to Jespon in shame and confusion. He began to stuff his still
half-hard, cum-dripping dick back into his pants. With trembling hands I
searched for my handkerchief. Cleaning myself, I wiped his cum carefully
away from my cheek and neck. I longed to forget the whole thing, to forget
Jepson. But there was something that strongly reminded me of him: the spots
where his jism had hit my face burnt like hell no matter how often I wiped
them clean.





II.

My hands were still trembling when I reached my car in the parking lot a
few minutes later. After he had shot his tremendous load of cum Jespon had
instantly lost all interest in me and in our meeting. He signalled the
guard to lead him back to his cell and left, grunting a noncommital "See
you" on parting. I collected the scattered papers of the file and begged
another guard to let me out too. He looked me up and down and gave me a
strange, condescending smile but said nothing.

I drove off as fast as I could - no, I fled. I wanted to get back to the
city, back to my normal life, back to Bob and to my other buddies, back to
Kate, but I had to realize that I was in no condition to drive. I couldn't
concentrate on the traffic. My heart raced, my vision was strangely blurred
and I had difficulties to breathe. Those spots on my skin were still
burning. The smell of Jepson's cum was still in my nostrils. And my dick
was still rockhard, aching in my briefs.

I decided to drive off the road, to give me some minutes to calm
down. Seizing on the first opportunity to leave the lane I followed a
narrow, winding dirt road until I reached a small, suny clearing,
surrounded by a screen of low hanging trees and thick bushes. I parked the
car on the sunny side of the clearing and switched the engine off.

The quiet rushed in on me. I lowered the back-rest of my seat as far as
possible and reclined, my eyes closed. The sun felt good on my face. Birds
were singing in the trees. I became more calm and my breathing turned
slowly back to normal.

But my hard-on didn't get soft. Quite the contrary: it was even harder than
before. Looking down at my outstretched body I could see it tenting my
slacks, throbbing and jerking. I closed my eyes again and tried to
concentrate on something that would relax and comfort me. But images of the
weird scene with Jepson kept coming back to my mind no matter how often I
pushed them aside. I saw his broad shoulders again, his huge, bulging pecs,
covered with that mat of thick, black hair, his mighty biceps, shining with
sweat, the hard muscles of his flat stomach, flexing and relaxing in turns,
his hairy, low-hanging balls, swinging back and forth. And I saw his dick
again: that mighty ramrod, huge, thick and fat, throbbing and jerking in
his hand, the head glowingly red, slippery and shiny with oozing pre-cum,
smeared over the smooth skin by his strong, hairy fingers that held the
pulsing shaft in a tight grip, squeezing it hard, pumping it, milking it
for more pre-cum, making it swell still harder and thicker and fatter. Once
again I saw cum erupting out of the gaping piss-slit, volleys of glittering
white jism, gushing forth like the fountain of a geysir, shooting up,
racing through the air, approaching me, flying forward towards my face. I
felt the impact of the crashing globs of jism on my cheek again, hitting my
skin, running down in a small rivulet, coating my cheek and neck with a
thin layer of smelly cum. His cum... another man's cum... on my face... so
close to my lips...

Suddenly the idea hit me that one of the globs might have had fallen right
on my mouth. I gasped. It was at this point that I realized how much had
changed: before Jepson's 'performance' this thought would have appalled me
- now it exited me beyond all measure. My mouth went dry and my dick jerked
in my briefs like mad. I felt as if I would cum without touching my
cock. There was no way to deny it: I was yearning for the taste of another
man's cum. Yeah, I wanted cum and I felt suddenly desparately sorry that
Jepson's jism had missed my lips, that he had not shot his cum right on my
mouth... right in my mouth... on my tongue.

The image of his dick, his giant fiery prod, convulsing, spasming,
twitching, exploding with a roaring torrent of cum appeared once again in
my mind. And then I saw myself, on my knees, crouching before him as I had
done, only this time my mouth was spread wide open, my tongue sticking out,
waiting eagerly. I pictured the first explosive spurt of cum shooting out
of the swollen, dilated lips of the cockhead, sailing through the air,
splattering juicly on my outstretched tongue and I saw it retreating
quickly into my mouth to save the sticky liquid while the cock in front of
my face erupted with volley after volley of jism, washing thick and creamy
into my mouth. I saw myself straining my jaws to keep my lips open as wide
as possible, eager not to miss a single drop of the man's hot cum,
gathering his jism in my mouth, bathing my tongue in it, savouring it and
then finally gulping it down in small drinks with great relish...

Whimpering with excitement I searched my pockets for the hanky that I had
used to wipe off Jepson's cum. My heart leaped when I found it in my
jacket. With trembling fingers I pulled it out. It was a real handkerchief,
not one of those tissues everybody uses today (I told you I liked posh
things) and the thin fabric was still sticky with Jepson's jism. I stared
at it in my hand, running my fingers over the wet spots that were drying up
quickly now. Slowly I brought it up to my face. Feeling suddenly insecure
and silly, I held my breath, asking myself: 'What on earth am I doing?' My
mind went blank and I waited dumbfounded as if someone else might
answer. Then my dick twitched and jerked again. And that decided it: I
pushed my fear aside, poked my nose into the hanky and inhaled, inhaled as
deeply as I could. The smell was overpowering, intoxicating. It was... I
searched in vain for a word that could describe it...  it was... male,
virile, just pure maleness, pure virility. My mind realed and I sniffed and
sniffed and sniffed again.

Acting as if in trance I fondled myself, stroking my tight-bound hard-on
through the straining fabric of my pants, rubbing my flattened palm back
and forth over my throbbing erection. I was on fire, hot as hell, aching
for relief. With a sobbing sigh I wrenched my hand from the jerking bulge,
fumbled at the catch of the fly, and whirred the zipper down, letting the
thight slacks fall open. Dipping inside, I rubbed my pulsing dick, circled
it with trembling fingers and then levered the hard rod into the open. It
jumped and jerked and seemed to swell up even more. I sighed deeply and
held it in my hand for a long moment, feeling the pulse of my blood in the
rockhard shaft. Suddenly I acted very determined: with swift movements I
pushed slacks and briefs down to my ankles, removed jacket and tie and
unbuttoned my shirt, exposing my stomach and chest. Then I reclined in the
seat, looking down at my almost completely naked body.

The sunlight shone on my trim, bronzed physique, and the wide curves of my
chest rose and fell with my excited breathing. I liked what I saw: firm
pecs dusted only with a fuzz of golden hair, tiny hard nipples standing up,
tight-muscled stomach and belly, almost seven inches of hard, throbbing
cock jutting from between sleek-muscled thighs. I pried the thick meat away
from my belly and wrapped a tight fist around the base, squeezing the shaft
hard. It jerked and twitched and I heard myself moan. Anxious to cum too
soon I let go, and my cock slammed back against my stomach with a loud
thwack. A pearl of pre-cum, glittering in the sunlight, leaked out ot the
gaping lips of the cockhead. I waited for some moments and then I touched
the rod again, running my fingers tentatively up and down, feeling its heat
and hardness, testing its weight. More pre-cum oozed out, connecting
dickhead and belly with a string of the clear fluid, forming a small puddle
in my navel. I spread the sticky lube over the rubbery surfaced cockhead
and felt tingling sensations racing through my body. I was sure I wouldn't
last long.

Reaching for the handkerchief again I pressed it on my face with one hand
and began to jack off with the other hand, jerking my dick rhythmically,
stroking the length of the thick shaft. I inhaled deeply, delighting in the
strong, heady smell of Jepson's cum, groaning with excitement, my eyes
tightly shut, seeing the image of his throbbing dick, gushing forth
cascades of sticky jism, again in my mind. Then the image was in some way
transformed: I realized that it was no longer Jepson's cock that I
pictured, no longer this particular dick, but a cock that was abstract and
very real at the same time: abstract since it belonged to no man that I
knew, real since it was still or maybe even more so the real thing: a dick,
huge, hard, thick and fat, pulsing and throbbing, ready to shoot, ready to
explode with a torrent of jism - the epitome, the image of maleness. My
cock lurched in my hand. Pre-cum was leaking all over the head and down the
pulsing shaft. It was big, and hard, and hot, and I knew that I would cum
in a few moments like I had never cum before. Words began to form
themselves in my head and I felt that I had to say them. And so I did,
taking sniffs at the sticky hanky from time to time, inhaling the
mind-blowing smell, speaking to no one in particular, my voice husky and
strained:

"Ohhh... I'm so hot... so hot... hungry for cum... for your cum... give me
your cum, man... give it to me... your hot cum... it's ready to shoot
out... out of your aching balls... give it to me... cum for me, man... like
I cum for you... my balls are aching... drawing up on me... I'm close... so
close... need just a few more strokes... so hot... can't hold back
anymore... ready to loose it... ughh.... you too... at the brink... I can
see that... fighting back... but it's too late... your dick
jerking... pulsing... ready to explode with cum... balls drawing up close
to their base... one more stroke... of your strong
hand... squezzing... milking your meat... your rockhard
dick... pulsing... throbbing... ohhh... it's here... shooting up out of
your balls... hot, boiling cum... spraying on me... coating my
face... globs of your cum everywhere... on my face... in my mouth... on my
tongue... ohhh, man...  here... I'm... I'm
cummmiiinn'... cummiiinn'... cummmiiinn for you, man!"

And that was true: I came and came and came, moaning, groaning, screaming,
my body writhing, spasming, convulsing, shaking. I felt as though my very
guts were being shot out of my dick as gush after gush of hot, thick creamy
cum erupted from it. Gallons of cum were squirting out of my dick,
splattering all over my belly and chest, as my balls were emptied again and
again, spurts of hot jism slashing over my naked, heaving body. I too came
'in buckets' - as Jepson had put it. At the end my jism was everywhere on
my torso, seeping lazily down, and it was still running down the shaft of
my cock, down into my crotch hair, coating my balls, leaking down all over
my hand, long after the climax was over.

Weak and spent I fought for my breath. I lay as though dead for long
moments, my eyes shut, closing out the world, recovering from the most
shattering orgasm I had ever had, trying to cope with that empty feeling
that follows the ultimate excitement of cumming, of shooting your load.

The sun was warm on my skin. I heard the birds singing. And I heard leather
crunching.

I opened my eyes and froze in a shock: I saw my body, naked, heaving,
spent, covered with cum, reflected in the dark sunglasses of a man who was
gazing down on me. He stood very close to the car, right by my side, his
crotch at my eye-level. He was wearing a black leather jacket and black
gloves. No shirt. The jacket was hanging open and revealed a thickly
muscled torso. A big, burly, strong man. Because of the glasses it was
impossible to tell his age. Black hair, cut very short. Strong jaws,
unshaved for at least three or four days. Thick neck. A tattoo at his
collarbone. Broad shoulders under the leather jacket that framed his
strongly muscled chest and flat, hard belly. A biker.

I felt suddenly very frightened and tried to speak but my voice failed me
completely. Out of the corners of my eyes I saw the man's bike on its stand
a few yards away on the dirt road. A small machine, not one of those
expansive super-bikes. Still it was beyond me that I hadn't heard him
coming. Desparately I asked myself for how long he had been there, for how
long he had been watching me, standing right beside the car, looking down
on me squirming in my seat with shut eyes, hearing me talking dirty to
myself, rattling on and on about cum, balls and jism, groaning and moaning,
jacking myself off to a shattering climax, writhing in agony while I shot
cum all over myself, soiled my belly and chest with sticky jism. My face
turned crimson red - not for the first time on that day. And not for the
last time.

The man stood with the weight on one foot, the right leg cocked sensuously
forward, hands on his hips . He didn't say a word. Just stared down at
me. The black mirrors of his glasses glittered menacingly in the sun.

Then he moved one of his leather gloved hands. He reached forward and for a
brief moment I thought that he would grap my spent, soft dick. Still frozen
in shock I watched as his hand stopped over my belly, hovering above the
large pool of my cum that had gathered there. Joining two fingers together
he started to coat them with my jism, spreading the sticky, white fluid all
over the black leather, working slowly, methodically, making sure that each
inch of those gloved fingers was thoroughly smeared and soaked with
cum. There was no shortage of my jism so he had his fingers dripping with
it in no time.

Slowly, careful no to waste the liquid, he brought his hand up to my
face. I gulped down hard and looked at his face pleadingly. An evil grin
appeared on his lips. Then his cum-smeared fingers brushed over my lips,
coating them with a thin layer of my own jism. I gasped. Sweat appeared on
my front and my breathing became labored again. He pressed the gloved
fingers down on my lips, prying them open, spreading them apart, forcing me
to open my mouth, to accept his gloved digits that were soiled with my own
cum in my mouth. The combined smells of leather and cum hit my nose and
made my mind spin. He shoved his fingers into my mouth and down into my
throat as far as possible. Cum dripped down on my larynx and mixed with my
spit. I gagged. I tasted cum for the very first time. Involuntarily my
tongue began to move around those fingers, swirling over the smooth surface
of leather, at first reluctantly, then more and more rapidly. I gulped down
my own cum and realized that it tasted great - a strange, heady mixture of
sweet and salty, a taste unlike anything else I knew. I licked at his
fingers like a puppy now, eager not to miss a single drop of the tasty
fluid, running my tongue up and down and around and around the leather-clad
digits, licking the glove clean again, making the leather shiny with my
spit

My dick, still leaking small drops of cum from my jack-off session, stirred
and started to swell and rise. I became hot again.

The man's mischievous grin broadened.


(to be continued)

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