Author: dtbw Published: 5/9/2008 story views: 3737
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This is based in reality but also is fiction. You figure out which is which.
My story begins with an admission of a strange urge. I have a fantasy about having things shoved inside my cock. I now know that I am not the only guy to find out that the inside of the cock has as much erotic capability as the outside, but I have to admit, it takes screwing the courage up considerably to stick anything down the inside of the family jewels.
Funny thing how fantasies become reality...
Chapter 1: Fantasy
I first see him in the bar; tall, dark, and muscled, mid to late 30s, just my type. He is packing a pair of Wranglers to perfection and the fabric covering his torso is straining to contain his developed arms and chest. I see that he has a nice bed of dark fur covering his chest, again just my type. We exchange eye contact and nod to each other. Next thing I know he is beside me making note that my beer mug is almost empty. He nods to the bartender and two icy mugs of draft replace those that we have been nursing. His name is Ken and he likes guys built like himself. As we stand at the bar chatting, his leg moves in between mine and his hand is checking out the merchandise. I lean forward and our lips lock. It is like lighting surging through my body as his tongue fucks my mouth. My hand goes straight for his crotch. His soft, well-worn, skintight Wranglers don't leave anything to the imagination. As I squeeze, he moans while our mouths continue their assault on each other. When we finally come up for air, I realize that most of the bar has stopped whatever they were doing and is watching the two of us. There is no question that we make a hot couple and I am certainly not embarrassed by the attention from this man or the crowd. Ken motions for me to follow to a dark corner of the bar to continue our explorations, but I suggest that we not waste any more time here and ask if it is going to be his place or mine. He tells me that he lives a few miles away and that his house was fine as long as I am okay. All I want at this point is to bed this guy and explore that body to it's fullest. I remember every detail like it was just happening.
As we enter his house, he stops, turns to me and slowly starts unbuttoning my shirt. He looks deep into my eyes and states, "I am in NO hurry". This is perfect with me as well. He asks if I want a beer, drink, anything. I pause and state that under the anything category, he was top of the list, but for the moment, a beer sounded great. He returns with two frosty long necks and we settle onto his sofa.
He fires up some tunes and we settle into a nice snuggle position. He starts talking, wanting to know if I was attached, dating, looking for Mr. Right or Mr. Right Now, etc I tell him that I am single, and I believe in letting fate run its course. If Mr. Right showed up, then so