Sunday, April 7, 2013



It was a dangerous dare to take. Two good friends of mine at work, Lynn and Bob, had listened to me go on and on about Joe for weeks. Every time he walked by me at work and said "Hey," I just wanted to jump the dude somethin' awful. And I know they sensed that raw desire in my face. So one Monday afternoon they just came out and proposed it. Lynn nudged me, "Why don't you just go up to Joe and ask him over to your place this Friday night?" Then she motioned toward Bob and added, "We'll each give ya 50 bucks if you do it."

I was hit with two different emotions: excitement and pure fear. Just the idea of asking straight Joe to come over sent hormones surging throughout my body. But then I thought of the possible repercussions. As I thought about it some more, Lynn said, "Oh c'mon, I mean the guy likes you. You two are always talkin' during your smoke breaks." She was right. But could I be confusing that good rapport between us with something more?

And then I made up my mind. "OK, I'll do it. But only if you both dig a little deeper and come up with 100 bucks each."

Bob whined, "Oh, man, $50 each is plenty."

I laughed. "No fuckin' way. I can't get a broken nose fixed for a mere $100."

Well, they finally gave in. And so I was left to figure out how the hell I was going to phrase this offer to Joe. I mean, he doesn't even know that I'm gay for chrissake. This could kill him. Or kill me. So I went out to the loading dock to have a smoke.

I had just lit up when I felt a jab to my shoulder. It was Joe.

His boyish face appeared in front of me. "Hey, dude. Saw ya coming out here for a smoke and I figured I'd join ya."

My hands started sweating instantly. "Oh . . . hey, Joe."

As he reached into his jeans for his smokes, I took the opportunity to drink in the sight of his hot body. Joe works in the shipping department of the plant, so his big, baggy jeans and T-shirt are always dusty. But even though he's into that huge, baggy look, you can tell that this dude's got a lean, muscular bod. The large veins that run up his forearms and into his shirt show how much he works out. About the same age as me, late 20s, Joe's got a punkier look than I do. Buzzed-down hair, tattoo on his calf (he showed me), and a real grungy, almost adolescent, kind of walk to him.

He jabbed me again. "Hey, where are you at dude? You got somethin' on your mind?"

So he started his usual weekend talk with a familiar, "Oh, man, what a weekend I had." He reached down and hiked his big jeans up. "Went out both nights, got drunker than shit."

I laughed, "Oh, yeah? Wish I could have seen that." And I meant it. I didn't bother asking whether he had scored or not because I think that would have just collapsed my fragile hopes. But little did he know the effect these weekend stories of his always had on me. Hearing him talk about his drunken nights out with the guys always set my cock throbbing in my jeans. This dude had power over me, no doubt.

Well, Friday rolled around faster than I would have liked. I still didn't know exactly how I was going to ask Joe over to my place. But I grabbed my smokes and headed out to the dock anyway, with a rapid heartbeat and a huge lump in my throat.

I smoked two cigs in a row that morning, but there was no sign of Joe. It took a few minutes for my anxious body to calm down once I was back in my office again. I prayed that he wasn't home sick or something. I mean, after working myself up to this, I wanted to get it over with.

After lunch I walked back out to the dock. On the way out there I still saw no sign of Joe anywhere. Damn! Then it happened. As I was staring down at the floor with a mixture of anxiety and disappointment, a pair of ratty sneakers appeared before my eyes. My heart fell down to the floor next to them.

He jabbed me in the shoulder. "Hey, dude."

"Hey Joe."

He grinned at me as he reached for his smokes. "Wassup?"

That wassup smirk of his made my nuts start to tingle with anxiety. "Nothin'."

So Joe started talking about some fight he got into at work earlier that day, but I really didn't hear what he said. My mind was racing through itself, trying to find a safe way to cross such a dangerous boundary with him. I couldn't come up with any lines that sounded casual. I was just too excited to be casual. So I turned my back to him to put out my cigarette and then it dawned on me. The coming weekend . . . yeah, that would be a perfect opener.

Well, so after Joe stopped talking, I was just about to turn around and ask him what his plans were for the weekend when the biggest blunder happened. When I spun around to ask him, I wasn't aware that he had stepped forward to put his cig out too and so my hand ended up flying right into his baggy denim crotch.

Joe bent forward a little from the blow and then I did something even more stupid! Without even thinking, I started rubbing his mound as I apologized profusely. "Oh, man, I'm sorry. You OK?" I don't know why I did that, it was just a reflex. But, I mean, it's not like I was trying to remove a stain or anything! I guess I was too embarrassed to think straight.

But Joe just raised his head and grinned, "It's OK, dude."

It was then that I realized what my hand was doing and I started pulling it away. But Joe pushed it back into his crotch saying, "Nah, dude, it feels kinda good." He didn't look at me when he said that. He kept his gaze down, focused on the circular motion of my hand.

I was stunned to say the least. But I took that strange silent moment to finally cross the boundary. "Um . . . Joe . . . you wanna come over tonight? Ya know, to just kinda hang out."

It didn't come out exactly smooth, but, hey, it was gonna have to do.

And after I held my breath for what seemed like an hour, Joe looked up at me. "You got beer there dude?"

Later, when I opened my apartment door, it was like a dream come true. Of course, by most people's standards, a vision of loveliness didn't stand at my door. But to me, Joe was 100% man, and I felt hot, wicked, and nervous when I let him in.

I could tell he was nervous too because he bolted straight for the kitchen, where he cracked open a beer and downed half of it immediately. "Cool place you got, bud."

"Thanks," I replied as I quickly tipped a beer to my own lips to calm my tense throat.

He hiked his baggy jeans up a bit. "Yeah, man, I gotta get out of my brother's place soon.

I need my own place like this." He took another big swig. "A place where I can do whatever I want y'know?" Goose bumps ran down my arms as I nodded.

I grabbed us each another beer and we walked into the living room. After we both stared at the television in silence for some minutes, Joe finally broke the uncomfortable silence with a burp. And then he asked, "Dude . . . are you . . . ?"

I knew right away what he was asking and I shifted nervously on the couch next to him. I reached over and grabbed my beer. As the cold liquid fizzed down my burning throat, I figured, Oh, what the hell. He came over right? What's he gonna do, act all pissed off and leave? Something told me that wouldn't happen. Not now.

So I lit a cigarette and looked over at him. "Yeah, dude."

Joe didn't really do anything. I think he expected that answer, but he wanted to know for sure, I guess. And so, after my big affirmation, we again sat in silence for a while. It wasn't exactly going as I had planned.

Then Joe got up and for a second and I thought he was going to leave. Luckily, he went into the kitchen and brought out two more beers. He handed me one with a smirk. "So dude . . . did you just invite me over here to get me drunk and take advantage of me or what?"

It took me off guard, but I answered right back, "Nah, I wasn't lookin' for one of those straight-dude-passes-out-drunk scenes. I'm tired of that."

Joe's eyebrows raised up. I think my comeback took him by surprise. But it was good because it finally broke the tension in the room. So he sat back down on the couch next to me. "Well, then, if you aren't in the mood for that . . . what are you in the mood for?"

He had a wicked gleam in his eyes that I returned eagerly. "I'm in the mood for somebody who wants it just as much as I do."

Joe leaned in close with a grin on his face until I could feel his hot breath blowing across my lips. "Oh yeah?"

And as his stubbled chin brushed by mine, I opened my mouth and gave it a quick lick. "Yeah."

He sat there motionless for a second, mouth open and staring blankly into my eyes. Was he confused? Was he pissed?

The answer came soon enough as he surged forward and covered my mouth with his. My body knew that now was the time that I could finally release my desires full force. My tongue plunged between his punky lips to seek out his. Once found, mine swirled around his timid tongue like a serpent. Its wild dance quickly coaxed his into an equally wild rhythm.

Joe flattened me onto the couch, under the weight of his awakened hormones. He ably took the lead now, forcing his tongue in deeper and deeper, grinding his stubbly chin against mine until it burned. I was in an altered state of mind at that point.

I reached down between us and started manhandling his denim crotch. Joe groaned as he pressed his growing bulge hard against my hand. My fingers frantically fumbled around down there, trying to find his zipper among all of the folds in his extra baggy jeans.

Joe pulled back and sat up on the couch. He grabbed his beer and took a couple gulps in between heavy breaths. I sat up and reached for mine too. When I looked over at this hot punk, it was kinda strange. Even though I saw Joe every day at work and God knows he filled my fantasies almost every night . . . he looked different just then. All worked up and panting, he had an even rawer face now. Twice as masculine, almost beastly, this dude oozed sexuality as he stood up in front of me.

He burped. "I gotta get out of these clothes dude; they're startin' to stick to me."

I watched in awe as this factory punk peeled his T-shirt off finally exposing to me what I had only dreamed about: smooth, sculpted chest with small, hard nipples that ached to be bitten. I sat on the edge of the couch and nipped at them with my teeth. Joe closed his eyes as he moaned, "Oh, yeah, dude!"

His strong arms ran down the length of my back and lifted my T-shirt off on their way back up. I got to my feet and dove into this hot dude's armpits with my mouth, licking and lapping up his pungent scent until I couldn't taste them anymore.

It was then that I felt his awkward hand touching the hard on in my jeans. A deep groan escaped my lips as I felt nervous fingers trace the length of my shaft and circle around my cock head. Joe whispered into the air, "Aw, shit, man, that thing's huge!"

I reached down and finally found his zipper. "I wanna see what you got, dude." Joe grunted as I sank to my knees and tugged the baggy jeans off his waist. A pair of black silk boxers were underneath and from the size of the pole that stood out and twitched beneath the fabric . . . well, this dude had it all. Joe lowered his boxers and let his animal out. My hungry mouth opened wide at the sight of his long, veiny pole. His swollen cock head was wet with precome as my tongue eagerly lapped at it. Then, as I started my descent on him, Joe placed his hands on my head and slowly guided me down on it.

It seemed like a constant stream of precome was running down my throat as I labored on Joe's prick. He fucked my face and groaned in a deep rumble. I grabbed a hold of his smooth ass cheeks and squeezed them to the bone as I slurped and sucked on his punky pecker.

I think Joe was near his moment when he suddenly pulled his cock out of my mouth. I looked up at his sweaty face and he grunted, "Let's get you out of your clothes, dude."

I eagerly stood up to release my impatient boner, but it was Joe who reached down and undid my jeans for me. Like he was discovering something for the first time, Joe panted heavily as he yanked my jeans and my boxer briefs down with one motion. He whispered as he stared at my dick, "Oh, man . . . fuck . . .!" And then he lunged forward, tackling me onto my back like a tiger pouncing on his prey.

He spun around and dangled his stiff rod above my lips as he dove down onto mine with a vengeance. I immediately reached up and pulled his ass cheeks down, stuffing his big beast into my waiting mouth. Man, we chowed down on each other like two starved animals. For him, I guess it was a totally new and obviously enjoyable moment. For me, it wasn't a new experience at all, but because it was with him – the factory stud of my jack off fantasies – it really did feel like the first time somehow. This fantasy come true made everything else pale in comparison.

Joe was the first to come. Once I started pulling on his bag of nuts, he groaned his approval and his long dork rewarded my efforts by erupting with wave after wave of thick cream. And as he completely coated my throat with his salty syrup, I felt my own explosion fast approaching.

I wasn't sure how Joe would react when I started spurting into his mouth but, hey, he had his mouth on it so . . .  And man did I shoot. The heat of the whole event had created an intense finale. My pecker shot wad upon wad into Joe's hungry mouth. I ran my hands over his buzzed head as he diligently stayed the course and kept his mouth locked on my mushroom until the flood finally ceased.

He rolled off of me with a big grin on his face. "Wow, dude! That was fuckin' wild!"

I grabbed my almost-empty beer and downed it. "You're tellin' me?"

Joe downed his brew too, so I jumped up to get us a couple more. I heard a cigarette lighter flick, but then a few seconds later, while I was reaching into the fridge, a pair of hands grabbed my bare ass cheeks. It jolted me because I wasn't expecting it. Joe just stepped back and leaned against the counter with an innocent grin.

I handed him his beer, and he walked behind me to the living room. "Pretty firm ass you got there, bud."

I lit a cigarette and turned around. "And what . . . do you wanna get in it?"

I'm not shittin' here, but no sooner did those words leave my mouth than factory stud's pecker shot up in the air with new life! It was unbelievable. Joe stood there with that smirk on his face, rubbing his chin in fake contemplation as his long tube rose in record time and jutted out from his body like a fat flagpole. He blew a smoke ring at me. "Well, I guess you know my answer to that, huh?"

I reached into the coffee table and tossed the stud a tube of lube, asking, "Where do you want me?" The mere question sent a strong shiver up my spine.

Joe turned me around and bent me over the couch. "Right here, right now."

I was a little nervous because it had been a long time since I had been fucked. But every inch of me wanted every inch of this dude bad, so I tried my best to relax and take him in. I closed my eyes when I felt his slippery flared head prodding around my tight asshole. With some effort, Joe finally managed to break through and he eagerly began sliding his pecker deep into my resistant cavern.

His strong hands ran up and down the length of my wet back as he rumbled with pleasure, "Oh, yea, this feels so fuckin' hot, dude. S-o-o tight!" His deep voice echoed around my head as I felt more and more of him fill me. My cock grew hard and throbbed against the back of the couch.

Once Joe had stuffed all of himself up my asshole, he began a slow rhythm on my ass. His hot breath blew through my hair as he gripped my shoulders and back and I closed my eyes in ecstasy. To think that I could be giving this hot punk as much pleasure as he was giving me was almost too much to comprehend. It felt like my world was reduced to this one moment. No other thoughts ran through my head except this hot fuck. Being skewered on Joe's hot, hungry pecker was all I knew. And he reminded me of that each time he plunged in extra deep, sending the hairs on the nape of my neck standing straight up.

Joe's initial slow dance with my ass gradually picked up in pace. Before I knew it he was pounding my asshole like a wild man. I could hear and feel his low-hangers smacking against my ass cheeks as he savagely rammed into my butt. He bent down and whispered near my ear, "Round two is comin' up, dude."

A few minutes later and I felt a gush of come spurt into my deepest crevice. Joe rumbled, "Hmm," as he spit every last drop he had up my worked-over ass. I felt a cold wave come over me and my back tensed up for a minute.

When Joe finally withdrew his weapon from me, I felt numb. My ass was relieved in one sense, but it also ached for him even more. I stood up, and it only took a couple strokes of my hand before I too was shootin' an urgent second load onto the floor.

Joe and I sprawled out on the living room floor, tired but satisfied. I looked over at his sexy, sweaty face and shook my head in disbelief. I still couldn't believe this whole thing had happened.

Joe noticed and he jabbed me in the shoulder. "What?"

I grinned, "Oh . . . I was just shakin' my head 'cuz I can't believe I let you fuck me before I got a chance at your ass first."

He laughed. "Oh, yeah? You think you're gonna fuck this ass, dude?" Then he lit a cigarette and smirked at me. "Maybe tomorrow night."

I was about to make it a date, but then I remembered I had an all-day commitment for Saturday: My cousin was getting married. I tried to think of how I could get out it but I knew that I couldn't.

Joe stretched out on the floor. "Well, you had your chance, dude." Then, after I didn't say anything in response, Joe raised his head to look at me and said, "How about Monday night?"

I went in to work Monday morning feeling like a new man. Bob and Lynn saw me walking in and they must have known right away. Lynn reached for her purse, "Well, I guess you did it, eh?"

I grinned, 'That's right, you two better start diggin' for that cash."

Bob searched all over my face. "I don't see no broken nose. How did it go?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told ya."

So they handed over the 200 bucks and then Lynn asked, "So what are you gonna do with the money?"

I pocketed the cash. "Oh don't worry . . . this is beer money. I think I'm gonna need a lot of it this week."

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