Wednesday, 17 November 2010

TROY'S TROPHY

It’s Troy’s first day in a new job and he’s more than keen to prove that he can take whatever he’s given!!

It was Troy Gilligan's first full day as stationery clerk at the Westrupp & Klein Construction Company. Just turned eighteen, he was fresh out of High School and lucky enough to land this vacation job before heading upstate to the capitol university in the Fall.

He'd gotten the job through Mr.Connors, W&K's site manager. For the past two years Troy had been babysitting for the Connors family who lived right opposite the Gilligans in Maine Drive. Every couple of weeks he’d see after their two small boys, Todd and Danny, if they were out at some town social or barbecue.

Secretly, Troy always got a buzz being around at the Connors, especially when Mr.Connors would come back caned as a rat. When he was like that he'd always horse play with Troy, giving him bear hugs, wrestling with him and making him drink a couple of beers. Then he'd end up paying Troy way too much.

Sometimes they'd not get back until very late but Troy would hold back just to gaze at Mr. Connors. He was sandied hair with a neatly trimmed moustache and rugged good looks and a chest as wide as a doorway before tapering down to a cute trim waste and two of the firmest butt cheeks that Gil had ever come across. Mrs.Connors was more than a little fond of them herself and they always had their hands all over each other. One time, Troy had almost burst in on them when he reckoned Mrs.Connors had been giving her husband oral in their kitchen. He'd knocked on the door and hearing a muttered grunted, had taken it as a sign to come in. The air was pregnant (and not a little pungent!) with awkwardness, with Mr.Connors one side of the kitchen looking like he was trying to push a plumped up pillow back in its case, and Mrs. Connors the other side apparently drying her hair with a towel, though it looked pretty dry already. Well, some of it! Still, Troy thought, the family that plays together, stays together!!

Troy was remembering all of this as he took lunch at his desk. He was struggling with a big pastrami and rye torpedo from the Subway on the corner. He was just glad to be eating it alone 'cos with the way his head was bobbing up on down on the big meat feast, he must have looked like the puny guy in one of his Falcon videos being forced to give head to some beefcake. He even had a dribble of something on his chin, but that was just mayo! He only hoped he couldn't be seen by the horny guys down in the yard loading the scaffolding trucks.

All morning long he'd barely been able to take his eyes of their tanned and toned torsos and well-filled shorts. This was a lot more fun than hanging out with the bagger boys who passed the Summer up at the reservoir , flexing their pathetic pecs and showing off in front of each other. While Troy was no geek he felt way too scrawny to hold his own in that crowd. Not that he was so bothered, for what he might have lacked in braun, he was more than compensated for with what he was happy to call his High School year's 'purtiest' bubble butt, the result of a lot of work on his parents home gym. That, and of course, 'Troy's Trophy'. A rarely less than rock hard eight inch cut cock with an equally impressive set of smoothly shaved balls. He was only 5'7 and dead thin, so when he stood sideways admiring himself in the bedroom mirror (as he did most evenings), he'd almost disappear, but his dick stuck out like a boon dock.

Just sometimes though, his 'trophy' was little more than big trouble, as was about to become all too clear. What with his phallic lunch snack and the sight of the guys down in the yard, Troy was now rock hard and in urgent need of a jerkoff in the Men’s Room, but right then Mr.Connors suddenly appeared in the room.

Without any preamble, he started, 'Troy! You're still here. Great! Better look sharp, boy. I'm heading over to the Dubois depot and they've got have these stationery items right away. Sorry to crash your break, but we gotta move fast.'

Mr.Connors almost threw a full requisition form at him and Troy's first impulse was to jump up straight away and show he was keen as mustard and fully on the job, but right now he had a hard-on that was about fit to lift his desk off the floor.

Thinking quickly, Troy took the sheet and tried to cover his groin area with it as he stood up, but still he was just too hard to stand normally. He then found himself kinda shuffling, almost crab-like, across the office to the Stationery Store.

Bent over like this, he half turned to Mr Connors and tried to explain, 'Back strain .. er, must have got it doin' my weights last night.'

Fortunately, Mr.Connors didn't seem that interested. Matter of fact, he seemed quite agitated and edgy. His forehead had beads of sweat on, and come to think of, Troy thought, he wasn't the only one larging up in the pants department.

Troy got his keys out and with his back to Mr Connors he could at last stand up straight. Over his shoulder, he muttered, 'I'll only be a few minutes.'

Mr Connors replied brusquely, 'Yeah, that's great, Kid. I'll come in and give you a hand’. This put Troy further on edge as he didn't yet know his way around the store. Not to worry, he thought, at least there were no end of shelves and boxes he could hide his boner behind.

Troy got on with the task in hand, but as he busied himself scanning the shelves for the items on the list, he was sure he heard the Store door shut firmly behind him. ‘Mmm. That's strange’, he thought, but even stranger, was then to hear the unmistakeable sound of the door being locked and Mr.Connors closing them both in the Store together.

He didn't dare look behind him at Mr.Connors but thought the best policy was to keep busy and carry on regardless. His mind though was racing with all kind of possibilities. Had he goofed and was going to get a telling off? Or was this some weird work-place initiation ceremony he was about to undergo?

Climbing the stores ladder to get at a box of jumbo sized paper clips on the top shelf, he could sense Mr.Connors moving in on him, and just as he was wondering what could possibly come next, he heard Mr Connors' voice close behind him: 'Troy, Kid, with a butt like that, you are just asking for trouble'.

Before Troy could even attempt to blurt out some kind of a reply, (though God alone only knows what he might’ve said!), Mr.Connors suddenly clamped his hips with two firm hands. With a start, Troy gripped the rails of the Stores ladder and braced himself, just in time as it happened, for Mr.Connors’s next move was to lunge his face deep into Troy’s round cheeks and a take a deep long breath of his scent.

Now, Troy Gilligan had always been brought up by his chapel-going parents to be an obliging sort of boy, and while the circumstances were far from the kind of thing theyd've had in mind, they'd surely have been rightly proud, as Troy’s unequivocal response was to stick his butt right out, making sure that Mr.Connors could enjoy 'access all areas'! He was a neighbour after all!!

Still with his face between Troy's cheeks, Mr Connors's hands reached swiftly around to his front and in a easy move he had Troy's belt undone and trousers opened. Thank God, Troy thought to himself, that he had on his favourite, horniest, Unico Briefs (tourquoise with a white band), or at least, he had. Impetuous to the last, Mr.Connors now had their waistband between his teeth and was drawing the briefs down over Troy's peachy cheeks. As he did this, Troy's Trophy sprung out of its confines for a brief moment of liberty only to be imprisoned just as quickly in the hot, firm clasp of Mr.Connors hand.

Troy was just starting to enjoy the moment when he could next feel Mr Connors wet tongue lapping and rippling around his balls (just shaved that morning, another happy accident). Next Mr Connors tongue was off on its travels and Troy moaned in exquisite pleasure as the ticklish bristle of Mr Connor's tache and then his fiery hot probing tongue worked its way into his hole. Ever practical, Troy considered that this was just about the perfect position ever to get your crack licked: halfway up a ladder with something for him to hold on and his ass perfectly placed at head height where Mr.Connors could enjoy comfortable and unlimited access.

Changing his tack, Mr Connors now drew Troy's cock between his legs and set about swallowing his balls as they strained against their sac. Moving his head in a sideways motions he then processed his sensuous lips up and down Troy's glistening 'trophy', each time as he'd get to the head making sure to lick the latest oozing drip of precum that was now steadily bubbling from Troy's Trophy.

Troy then heard Mr.Connors's belt buckle being undone and, looking down between his legs, he could see him prising himself out of his denims and releasing a solid, cut nine inch cock from his Abercrombie & Fitch cotton boxers. All the time, still attending to Troys backside, Mr.Connors went to work like a magician, producing out of nowhere, it seemed, a rubber and sachet of lube. In an instant, and with a satisfying thwack of stretched rubber, he was sheathed and lubing up that luscious cock.

Troy thought it was time to move down the ladder a few steps and get closer to the action. He dropped down just in time to meet a set of lubed fingers coming up to grease his hole. First, Mr.Connors probed him with his middle finger, then he gently worked in a second finger. Troy let out a sigh of deep, intense pleasure and in response, Mr.Connor chanced a third finger. Troy was by now aching with desire to have the real thing inside him and with Mr Connors all rubbered up and Troy nicely lubed there was only one place to go.

Holding on to the rails of the store ladder he swooped down gently on Mr Connor's cock and felt the hunk glide, slowly but steadfastly up the walls of Troy’s receptive passage. 'In like Flynn', was how Troy's grandpa would have put it, though more likely referring to one of the stallions on his ranch.

Mr.Connors’s take on events was just as succinct. 'Oooh, way to go boy', he cooed as he entered Troy, forging his crotch deep into the kid and, anchoring himself in position with his firm hands on Troy's shoulders. His strokes were long and slow at first, but gradually Troy doubled the pace as he worked his virgin butt up and down on Mr Connors's hot length.

Tne Stationery Store hummed with the lowing sound of Mr.Connors’s grunting and heaving, mingling with the higher pitch of Troy's panting and moaning.

Naturally, as a good, homely kid, Troy, had always abided by his mama's entreaties never to swear or take the name's lord in vain, but all at once, caught up in the frenzy of the moment, he heard himself shouting out: 'Oh.Mr Connors! JESUS CHRIST!! Fuck me HARD, you HORNY BASTARD!!!’

Mr.Connors quickly shot a hand up to Troy's mouth just in case anyone might be near by, but still the interlocked duo kept up their stride. By now, they were writhing up and down with the frenetic pace of a fairground hobbyhorse on speed, though Troy was sure he'd never had this much fun at the Fair! The stationery shelves, meanwhile, provided their own merry accompaniment, as their joints squeaked and stressed under the strain of Troy on the ladder being happily banged to and fro. With the mounting tremors, jotter pads and pen packs started to rain off the shelves all around them.

Mr.Connors had now removed his hand from Troy's mouth and with it, he was now wanking his trophy frantically. In his mind’s eye, Troy could only see himself in a showroom full of automatic washing machines all of them on final spin. (He had a thing about white goods, but now’s not the time!)

Remembering his manners this time, Troy muttered deeply, through gritted teeth, 'Oh Jesus H. christ! God!! Yes, yes, give it to’, as Mr.Connor’s arching thrusts, reached deeper and deeper into him and brought him closer by the moment to the enormous orgasm that was building from the very bottom of his young balls. Almost screaming with delight he threw his head back and fitted with juddering jolts of pleasure as matching, hot spurts of cum suddenly riipped out of him with a force he could scarce believe. Batches of W&K compliments slips were rendered useless as they were splattered with Troy's jizz jets. Some even caught on the ladder and dribbled from the rungs.

It was with Mr.Connor's final gladitorial thrust and his own ball busting climax that the ladder finally broke it's moorings and Troy and Mr.Connors found themselves crashing towards the ground. They stumbled and fell landing in a heap with an impact that sent lose post-in notes and letterheads billowing up into the air. And finally, after the briefest of pauses there was a huge crash as a box of jumbo sized paper clips crashed to the earth and spilled everywhere. It came like the symbol crash at the end of a great symphony and if there’d been an audience present they 'd have been on their feet and cheering for these two new found fuck buddies.

Astonishingly, Mr.Connors was still full inside Troy as they lay on the ground and he put a firm hand behind Mr Connor's backside to keep him there a few blissful moments longer. For his part, Mr. Connors wrapped an arm around the boy and with his free hand, he gently stroked Troy's hair. Together they chuckled softly, in between catching their breaths.

Over his shoulder, Troy, with his eyes dreamily shut, asked: 'Mr.Connors, what about that stationery order for the Dubois depot?' Mr Connors grunted, 'Don't worry, kid. We don't have a Dubois depot!'

Later that afternoon, Troy (just a little tender after his lunchtime torpedo!), gingerly made his way up the family driveway in need of a darn good rest. From across the street, he was hailed by Mrs.Connors who was busy getting her shopping and the kids out of their 4X4. 'Hi Troy, honey! Hope that husband of mine's not giving you too hard at time at work?'

'Oh, don't you be concerned about me, Mrs Connors’, he sighed, 'It's nothing I can't take!'


© latelygay.com

Tuesday, 16 November 2010

CRYSTAL NIGHTS


Terry takes a trip into the unknown and meets the gorgeous 'Ben': the perfect (but oh so fleeting ...) lover in a night of passion and torment.

The Crystal was not the smartest sauna in town. Far from it. But it was handy and convenient for some light and potentially vigorous relief for a fit, young guy on his way home. A chance to get a few things off his chest and, with any luck, all over some other guy’s chest (!), which was exactly what Sean needed after a couple of hellish days at work. Disappearing off the high street, he slipped into the blind alleyway leading down to the unmarked door of the Crystal’s entrance. This was the sort of establishment guys only knew was there, if they knew it was there, so to speak. And that was it’s real attraction for a host of horny, young types in sharp suits who could easily get across from the busy financial district without being detected.


Not that there’d be many of those guys around tonight, Sean reckoned, as he scanned an almost complete locker-key board behind the reception when he was paying his entrance money. His suspicions checked out in the changing rooms as anyone who’d stopped by this mid-week night was already making tracks. Not a problem, Sean thought. He’d be just as glad of a good shower and a rest in the steam-room.
In a few easy moves, he was out of his work clothes and slipping his tight, Boss boxers down over his crotch, his dick gently springing out before him. He threw them along with his other bits into his locker and turning the key, grabbed his towel and headed along the narrow corridor that led to the showers. Not for first time that night, Sean noticed an intense, damp, chill hanging about the place. It was the still the middle of Winter, but local temperatures for the last few days had been high, almost balmy. Not at Crystals though. Yet again Sean’s insatiable quest for cock had led him down a pointless, almost spooky dead end.
The shower-room put him in a better mood. Sure, the towels may have been frayed and shabby; cast-offs from the city’s smarter gyms and fitness centres, but Crystal’s boasted the hottest and strongest showers in town. In seconds the room disappeared in it’s own cloud of steam as Sean pumped the soap-dispenser and covered himself in a rich later of suds that drained down from his shoulders across his firm torso and onto his shapely cock and balls.

Suddenly, he got a huge start as the shower-head next to him burst into life. At the same time and even under the downpour, that cruel chill revived, stealing into the room with icy-fingered tentacles that ran up his legs and almost whipped the cheeks of his backside. He shivered intensely but just as quickly as the draft had arrived, it disappeared and Sean’s attention was now preoccupied by the tall figure that stepped into the shower next to him. He didn’t even hear anyone come into the shower-room and couldn’t imagine how the guy had passed by without him even noticing his arrival. He was likely more bothered by the cold, but hey, maybe this wasn’t going to be such a wasted stop-off after all.

Sean, regaining his composure, carried on washing himself and craning his neck too and fro as if to release muscle-tension he afforded himself a glance of his new neighbour. The guy was just standing beneath the jet of water looking straight at Sean with the loveliest, warmest smile on his face. Sean’s breath almost oozed out of him in a convulsive sigh. Apart from the thrilling smile, Sean saw that the guy was just gorgeous. A lightly chiselled-face with high cheek bones and dazzling blue/grey pupils set amongst alabaster white eyes. His shoulders were broad and lean with a swimmer’s frame and a torso lightly covered with dark hair that tapered down and faded just beneath his navel. As Sean took in this ‘vision’ he could see that the guy’s bottom half was every bit as good as the top. Long legs with firm, muscular thighs and between them a swollen, cut cock against a nicely rounded testicle sac with just a light shadowing of pubic hair.

The guy spoke softly and in a voice that was every bit as sexy as his physique, he purred softly, almost whispering, ‘Hi, my names’ Ben’. Sean was completely transfixed and without thinking he stepped towards the guy and together their lips met and engaged effortlessly, eagerly and lustily.

By now both showers had petered out and again that bloody, cold draft began to gather and Sean started to shake almost uncontrollably, but Ben just wrapped both his arms around Sean. He felt so warm and so good and in his embrace Sean relaxed and breathe in, inhaling the intoxicating aura of this magical apparition.

Eventually, but by some unspoken cue, they broke away from each other and Sean looked up at Ben. He could feel himself almost consumed and possessed by this stirring stranger and with nothing said, and nothing needed to be said, he was taken gently by the hand, Ben leading him to one of the nearby cabins.

Over the course of the next half hour they writhed, rolled, kissed and caressed with a passion and an intensity like Sean has never in his young life experience. Finally, they exploded in a volley of mutual orgasms and collapsed in each others arms and there they stay blissfully conjoined for an eternity, or so it seemed.

Sean came to with a start. He must have drifted off, he thought. He felt confused, and he was alone. The last thing ‘Ben’ had said was that he was going to take a shower and straight on cue Sean heard one of the showers start up.

Stirring himself, Sean got out of the cabin and headed for the shower-room. Steam was billowing out into the corridor and a towel hung on the hook on the outside wall, but when Sean looked into the showers there was no one there. Quickly, he showered alone, half-wondering if it had all been a dream, but that was a daft thought in itself. Nothing that good and intense could have been a fantasy.

Before returning to the changing room he had a quick look in the steam room and the video lounge, but the place was entirely empty. Not wanting to miss Ben, he virtually sprinted to the changing room, but only managed to crash into Danny, the attendant. ‘Heh, steady there, chicken! What’s up with you. Look like you’ve seen a ghost. Best get your gear on quick, I’m shutting in ten minutes’.

‘Yeah, right … ‘ said Sean, uncertainly. ‘But what about Be … er … I mean the other guy’?

‘Other guy?’, said Danny, more occupied with the armful of used towels he was picking off the floor. ‘No babe, it’s just been yourself for the last hour’, he added over his shoulder before heading out to the laundry.

The last hour? Sean’s stomach flipped on the spot. His
entire body blushed and burned with a shocking sense of humiliation. Danny’s words repeated in his head, ‘… just been yourself … the last hour … ?’ How could a moment so sweet, sour so quickly. This guy … shit, he had a name – Ben! Surely, he hadn’t just gone! Had he really just pissed off!?

Yeah, and what of it? Get real, Sean told himself. If the guy had just gone, wasn’t that just good old Sauna Lore. The House Rules: as played out in bath-houses all over - no pissing in the jacuzzi, no pouring water on the rocks, no alcohol in the cabins; oh, and yeah: you meet a guy, you fuck him, you shower, you dress, you quit and that’s it. No kiss goodnight, no phone numbers, just a quick, albeit sensational, screw and exit.

Deflated, Sean stood amongst the empty lockers of the changing room, their doors either locked or left open. Maybe he’d slept longer than he realised, probably the guy hadn’t want to disturb him. Which had been Ben’s locker? The ‘what ifs’ ran on in his mind as he slowly got his stuff out of his locker and dressed.

It wasn’t until he was doing his tie up in the mirror that he noticed the picture. He could see it reflected over his shoulder on the far side of the room next to a notice-board with its random collection of disclaimers and health notices. Turning slowly he walked across to where the picture was. In a smart silver frame, unmistakeably, it was a picture of Ben. He had more hair and was fuller of face, younger looking, but it was definitely him.

Now, here was a consolation of sorts, a lease of hope. Straightaway Sean was thinking, well, if his picture’s here someone must know who he is, someone who can say where he hangs out.

Just then, Danny made his way back from the laundry room. “This guy … ‘, Sean stumbled, ‘… I know him.’

‘Who? Ben? Oh, everyone knew Ben … and Ben knew everyone,’ Danny laughed. ‘You know, I’d have to pinch myself to believe it’s being three year’s now.’

‘Three years? Since what?’, asked Sean.

Almost impatiently, Danny shot back: ‘Well, since the accident. You know? U huh? The night he died. I mean you did know that he died?

Reflexively, Sean came back ‘ Yeh sure, of course’.

Reassured, Danny carried on. ‘One of our regulars Ben was. I got bored not having him around anymore. So, last week I got that picture out, found him a nice frame and it kinda feels nice having him back.’

Sean froze on the spot, his mouth felt as dry as dust and he could only croak a few words. ‘He died? Remind me, what happened?’

‘Well, it was a Thursday night, like any other. He was stood there where you are now. He put on his coat, gave me a kiss on the way out and only moments after I’d locked the door behind him … this grotesque thump. I knew straight away it was him.’ Danny explained.

‘What? Tell me what happened?’ Sean pressed Danny, trying to conceal his state of alarm.

Danny went on: ‘Oh, who knows? They reckon his mobile went off or something distracted him. Whatever, he stepped out into the road without looking and straight into the path of a car. Wham! Right up in the air he went, someone said, and that was that. No more Ben’.

After a pause, Danny said, ‘Do you know it’s funny, kid. When you checked in tonight, straightaway I thought, you would have been one for Ben. You’re just the type he liked. Anyway, enough! What’s done is done.’

Getting back to business, Danny clapped his hands. ‘Now, c’mon’, he clucked at Sean, ‘I’ll let you out. And for pity’s sake, watch yourself crossing that road. I’m not made of picture frames.’

As soon as he was out in the alleyway, Sean’s legs nearly disappeared from underneath him. He slumped against the wall, tearing at his collar and tie and feeling as if he was going to puke. ‘But it was real. He was real’ he kept repeating to himself. His head seemed to scream with a wail of sounds … a nearby nightclub, a busy restaurant kitchen, crashing plates, speeding traffic. They all fused together into a screeching terror and just when he thought his sanity would shatter into a thousand shards, everything stopped. The chaos behind his eyes slipped beneath a sublime blanket of silence and a soft warm breeze touched Sean on the face, gently brushing and kissing his lips while an unseen hand ran through his hair. Then, gentle on the breeze, a soft whisper grew into a voice, Ben’s voice: ‘It’s all right kid, I’m here’. Sean, his eyes closed fast, whimpered, ‘I thought I’d lost you’. The voice came again. ‘Not a chance, Kid. I’ll be around. Don’t worry. You’ll know it.’

Gradually the breeze slipped away, the sounds of the neighbourhood re-emerged and gently pushing himself away from the wall Sean made it out into the night alone, but not so alone maybe.


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