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.Eachlong thrust caused him to gasp and cry out aspleasure mixed with a dart of pain.The throbbingsang from his asshole and up his spine like a bow.Never had he taken such length and girth insidehis tight boyish buttocks and yet there was onlypleasure, a sensation of lovemaking he had foreverbeen denied.The Spartan began to pull his bulbouscock head back to his sphincter before slipping itsfull length deeper inside than before.Carlo began to cry, gasp and laugh.His eyesgrew wide as the morning light filtered in throughthe window; one beam of sunshine drew evercloser to them as his thighs and buttocks slid upand down the Spartan spear.The light approachedas he moaned and screamed in pleasure untilsuddenly it consumed them both and he wasfloating in a serene calm sea, his worries and fearsforever gone.When the initiates came to check on the old manthat evening, Carlo the artist was gone forever buthis creation in marble, the magnificent nakedSpartan would live for a thousand years and more.ONE FOR THE TEAMBob MastersDave was walking home one afternoon, slowlymaking his way toward his apartment in midtownAtlanta.The subway had let him off in the middleof the city.He could have waited for the bus, but itwas a beautiful day in early fall, warm and sunny.Dave liked to get some sun and exercise his legsinstead of sitting in a loud and crowded bus, so hehad decided to hoof the half mile.Thirty-four,slender and athletic, he kept his hair short and hisbody in tip-top shape.He really wasn t looking to hook up withanyone, but when he started to pass two slightlypaunchy twenty-year-old guys piling out of a beat-up Japanese car, he slowed down a little.One ofthem was rushing back to the trunk and removingthree cases of beer.He smiled, and they turned andsmiled back.They didn t exactly look gay.Short,stoutly built, they exuded the air of two roommateswho didn t know the meaning of clothes beyondjeans and a sweatshirt.Their features werehandsome in a boyish way.He expected to keepwalking and let them go about their beer business,but their smiles were just a little too lingering andwelcoming for that.He broke the silence. Hi, guys.What are you going to do with all thatbeer? Drink it all tonight?The guy who was a few steps down thewalkway to their apartment answered. You betcha.We re gonna watch the footballgame.You like football? Want to come watch itwith us?His buddy, the one with the beer, chimed rightin. Yeah, guy, we could always use another guy tohelp us down a few brews while we watch thegame.Dave decided that his afternoon was going to bemore interesting than he had thought.He liked theirinnocent enthusiasm and easy, welcomingdemeanor.Maybe the beer would lead tosomething else. Sure, when does it start? Well, the first game is going to start in aboutten minutes.Why don t you come inside? We gotpretzels and potato chips too.Maybe get a pizzalater on.Me and Bud here like to have fun whenwe watch football, don t we Bud? Yes, sir.Me and Jimbo here are from Chicago.Football rules in Chicago.We can tell youanything you want to know about football.He didn t know the first thing about football, butit didn t really matter.The pretence was sweet.Hewas their physical opposite, tall and muscularversus their short and somewhat heavy frames.Butlarge and full asses always did something to him,and the thought of having two drunk and hornyfootball freaks on each side of him made his cockjump. Well, I am sure up for a few beers.I know alittle bit about the game.Maybe you can fill me inon some of the moves.Did that sound suggestive? We can show you every move, if you want,answered Bud, not missing a beat. Well, lead on, then.Here, let me help you withsome of those beer cases, Jimbo, is it? Sure, and your name? said Jimbo, handingDave a case of Pabst. Dave. Pleased to meet you, Dave, said the dark-haired youngster.The three young men entered a small apartment,not much more than a living room with anadjoining kitchen, with a bedroom hiddensomewhere.They turned on their flat-screen TV, asurprising luxury for what were obviously twotwenty-year-olds who barely had money for adecent car.The beers were soon flowing.Davewas seated between the two young men on a none-too-large couch.All of their legs were touchingand the amount of friction between them increasedexponentially with every exciting play.Bud andJimbo responded with the enthusiasm of true fans,pounding their feet and standing up to cheer whensome player made a touchdown or an interceptionturned the tide of fortune.The beer was like alubricant, letting them let go [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]