Search the Community
Showing results for tags 'life story'.
Found 2 results
-
THE BIGGEST TOOL Chapter 1: Force of Habit As he felt the rim of the younger guy’s hole snap tight around his cock, he grunted, “Fuck, yeah.” Slowly he slid his meat deeper in between those lush ass mounds, sinking into the guy’s tunnel. It was a long struggle because his dick wasn’t short, and it wasn’t thin. The slim, young blond man under him was struggling to make room for it. He kept the pressure on steadily until the moment when something gave way and he was finally able to sink himself all the way inside, his hip bones resting against his partner’s glutes. He gave the guy another minute to get used to the intruder in his body, and then roused up, lifting his body into the air on his muscled forearms as he began pumping up and down, pulling his cock out and then driving it back in. The bottom twisted and moaned, half in pain and half in ecstasy, as the monster cock plunged into him repeatedly. This youngster was trying harder than some of them did. He really was making an effort to work his hole around the top’s dick of death, but it was a losing battle. He was stretched so far that he couldn’t command his ass muscles to work. The top stud laid himself down along the young blond’s back, tangling his fingers in the longish blond hair and forcing his legs wider apart to give himself more room. In this position, he could pump really hard and fast, building up to a rapid tattoo of loud smacks that roused echoes all through the room. “Fuck, man – it’s so fucking huge. You’re splitting me in two. Porn scenes with dialogue like that are a dime a dozen, but in this case it was at least believable. That massive tool looked like it was almost a third the size of the bottom boy’s entire waist. The bottom was experienced, definitely, and had been plowed by a lot of big dicks, but this one took things into another league altogether. This blond guy wasn’t the first, and he wouldn’t be the last, to say that he felt like he’d lost his cherry all over again after getting his cheeks pried open by that massive ass-splitter. Not that it really mattered. The man plundering his butt was an expert, and he knew exactly how to show his bottoms a good time while getting his own rocks off inside them. Some tops might fake an orgasm from time to time, but this man never did. He was thorough, he was an expert, and he knew exactly how to make his partner cum, as well as making himself cum – and cum on a grand scale. He never let them down He pulled out then, grabbing the bottom and flipping him over with a snarled, “On your back! Now!” The bottom obediently complied, lifting his legs into the air over his head so that his hole was totally visible to the cameras, the gaping opening mercilessly illuminated by the brilliant lights. His mouth was gaping open too, gasping for air after the pounding he’d already taken, while knowing that the worst was yet to happen. The top planted his knees further apart so the cameras would get a clear shot as he leaned down and started pushing his way inside that quivering ass-pussy again. Slowly, but with force, he pushed inch after inch of his enormous tool all the way inside the younger guy’s tunnel. As he resumed his determined fucking, the shadowy figures beyond the reach of the lights watched the scene with a mixture of reactions. The younger ones displayed various degrees of awe – particularly the first-time camera guy whose own cock was out and rock-hard. The reactions ran the gamut from there to the producer, a white-haired veteran of the trade who’d been making porn flicks for nearly half a century. He smiled with satisfaction at the realization that this awesome top man, even after all these years, was the most striking performer he’d ever seen. The pounding strokes were getting harder and harder now, plunging down more forcefully and ripping upwards more sharply. The stud’s breath came in harsh gasps as he took what he wanted, riding hard and deep in the younger man’s ass and getting ready to breed his hole. The younger guy groaned and cried aloud as the pounding reached his limit of endurance. But this too the top understood. He closed his eyes and his mind to all else but the sensation of that widely stretched hole grabbing and stroking his man meat. In just a few more strokes, he roared, “Cumming inside you!” “Fuck, yeah, stud, fill me up!” He drove in, one last ferocious stroke, and then held it there as his shaft shuddered, convulsed, pumped out one massive squirt of sperm after another. After three shots, he pulled out, sprayed the next three over the bottom’s firm round cheeks and throbbing crotch, and then drove back in to pump the last four or five squirts deep into the asshole. Then the bottom grabbed his own tool, yanking on it fiercely for about twenty seconds until it shot a fountain of cum up onto the straining abs of the man who had just bred him. At last it was finished. He drew that long, thick shaft up and out, eyeing (not without a touch of smugness) the slow tidal wave of man cream that poured out of the hole and down the bottom’s taint. He used his cock to scoop it up, and then forced it all back inside the younger guy’s gaping ass – cock, cum, and all. Only then did he lean down and close in to exchange a few kisses with the bottom. After a minute he eased out again, Then, feeling his thighs beginning to strain to hold him steady, he flopped down onto his back, letting his dick fall back down and dribble out the last bits of cum onto his washboard abs. And with that, from the back of the room, a voice called, “That’s a wrap.” The man who had once been Adrian Pennyfather lay there, slowly catching his breath back, as his partner tentatively lifted himself up and off the bed before heading off to the shower to clean himself and soothe his aching, defeated hole. “Be with you in a minute, Sven,” he called after the bottom’s retreating bottom. “Great job – as always!” The producer’s congratulations were heartfelt “Thanks, Mike.” The words were formulaic. He knew that he had given a good performance; he always did. He understood thoroughly that a big dick didn’t make a porn star. It was at least as much a question of attitude, a professional approach to the job to be done. This he had mastered years ago, and it was his attitude and thorough approach to his work, even more than the size of his cock, which had producers and directors lining up to sign him. In a few more moments he’d join Sven in the shower room, helping to ease him down from the intensity of the scene and sympathizing with the sore ass which he had stretched so badly. Right now, though, he was pondering the never-ending mystery of his life. What he didn’t know and just couldn’t ever understand was how the shyest, most timid kid in Exmouth, Nova Scotia, had ended up becoming one of the most famous – make that notorious – and sought-after gay porn top stars of the last twenty years. And why was it that nobody in the porn industry, nobody in the whole wide fucking crazy gay world, could ever seem to figure out – or even seem to care – what it was, what were the kinds of sexual action, that really turned him on Even after he and Sven had towelled off and dressed, and Sven had left, he kept sitting there, pondering it all. Was he really at a crossroads in his life, or was this just his usual “kind of down day” that always set in after a shoot ended? He wasn’t sure. Once again, he found himself pondering the idea of quitting. This whole porn thing had become a matter of habit. It was all an established routine: setting a date, laying off sex for several days beforehand (had to save up a huge load for his legendary money shot), meeting his partner, fooling around for a while to find the bottom’s hot buttons, then the showers, the scene shoot, the familiar stages of sex for the cameras, and finally the explosive money shot – the signature trade mark of every one of his scenes. Then, showers again, hug and kiss, and go home… to what? There it was again. The perennial question he could never solve. What was he going to do, how was he going to live, and above all who was he going to become when he hung up his jockstrap and quit the porn industry, and his porn screen name, for good? For that matter, who was he? Plain and simple – and he still didn’t really know the answer.
- 31 replies
-
- 21
-
-
-
-
Chapter 1 Sunrise on Alcantara Rich came slowly awake, lying on his side and stretching like a contented cat. His eyes opened, taking in the dim daylight filtering into the bedroom around the shutter panels at the patio glass doors. He had good reason to feel contented. He’d fallen asleep last night after pumping two rounds of seed into Tommy’s ass, and then feeling Tommy’s long Asian dick shooting its usual big load deep inside his butt. Nothing like a good load of sperm up inside your ass to help you sleep well, he thought. As that thought crossed his mind, he felt Tommy’s arms tighten around him, the hard muscles flexing as he drew Rich closer. That wasn’t the only hard part he felt, becoming aware of Tommy’s dick snuggling right into his crack, obviously hoping to take another go at him. And why not? Rich purred like the contented cat he resembled, reaching back with his arm to grasp Tommy’s taut, muscular ass and pull him closer. As he did, Tommy nuzzled his ear and then kissed his way down onto Rich’s face, while Rich slowly turned his neck to meet those kisses, as he relaxed his hole to take Tommy’s erection. Tommy kept exchanging kisses with tongue with his lover as his cock slipped inside Rich’s firm, round ass and sank in right to the bottom. “Mmm, nice and warm and wet – just the way I like it. I love fucking you when you’ve kept my load inside you all night,” Tommy murmured as he slowly began sliding in and out. “Best lube I could ever ask for,” Rich replied. “Damn right,” Tommy replied, slowly picking up the pace of his fucking motions. Sliding in and out of Rich’s ass, he began twisting his tool around like a corkscrew, making sure to stroke every part of the warm hole and especially taking care to bounce the tip off Rich’s man gland frequently, evoking frequent moans of ecstasy as he did so. Rich may not have been hard when he woke up (although Tommy certainly was) but he was rapidly catching up, his rigid cock flexing up and down and leaking precum at a rapid clip. As Rich’s breathing got faster and shallower, Tommy read the signs and knew that he was going to cum soon – and that was fine with him, too. Accelerating the pace of his fuck motions, Tommy spooned Rich harder and harder, both of them expressing their pleasure more vocally with each stroke. Tommy pushed hard with one leg, rolling Rich onto his face and bringing himself up on top. He lay right down across Rich’s broad, muscled back, slamming forcefully down into Rich’s hole and pummelling his prostate. By now, both knew that they were going to cum together and it was going to happen very soon. Rich was now gasping for air as his orgasm mounted up like a wave ready to crash down on the beach at the foot of the hill. “Oh, fuck… Tommy… fuck… I’m gonna… give it to me… I’m cumming!!!” Just as Rich panted out the last words, Tommy rapidly slam-fucked him, driving down hard and fast into Rich’s hole, then shouted out, “Fuck, yeah!” as his load erupted inside his husband, seed streaming in rapid pulses out of his rigid cock to fill Rich’s ass to overflowing. Tommy kept pumping in and out, still in overdrive, as Rich’s muscles grabbed at his tool, milking all the seed out of him as his own juices shot out on the bed underneath his taut abs. At last, Tommy slowed down and then came to a final stop, buried deep inside Rich. Rich turned his head and they kissed again, laughing at the sheer joy of being together again after a week of Rich being away from home on business. “Damn, that was good, Tommy. There’s just no stopping you.” “Sorry, Rich, I just couldn’t help it, seeing you again. I must have been dreaming about you all night because, when I woke, I found that I was up before I was up.” Slowly, Tommy eased his still-hard cock out of Rich’s ass, and then got up and went into the bathroom, returning a moment later with two wet washcloths which they used to mop the sperm off their bodies. Rich got up, too, and walked into the closet, opening a drawer, and returning a moment later wearing a red speedo. Tommy, having ditched the washcloths, followed his example, but his black suit was covered with a flashy pattern of blue, green, and yellow lightning bolts. “You know something, Rich? For a senior citizen, you really wear that damn speedo well.” “Not as well as you, Tommy – Mister Middle-Aged Japan for 2022!” Tommy made a face, and they both laughed. Rich opened the shutter panels and slid back the glass patio doors. The two of them went outside and plunged into the pool, coming up against the glass infinity wall which overlooked the view. Below and around them, the green-mantled hills rose up steeply around three sides of the compact little harbour, and across those hillsides spread the white and pastel-coloured buildings, the flower gardens, the palm trees of the compact city of Portavedra, capital of Alcantara. The rising sun shone down brightly on the city, glinting off the discreet golden cupola on the Assembly building and the freshly coppered spire of the cathedral. Off to the left, they could see the towering, angular cranes, looking like so many giant praying mantises, in the larger outer harbour where the cargo piers, the cruise ship port, and the inter-island ferry terminal were located. Out in the distance, to their right, they could just make out, through the early morning haze on the ocean, the more rugged and mountainous island of Isabella. Ever the historian and linguist, Tommy had always been acutely aware of the significance of the Spanish name, “Alcantara.” It came from the Arabic al qantara for “the bridge” and this island of Alcantara had always been the bridge by which to access the entire cluster of islands, because it possessed the only true and sheltered harbour. No wonder it had been so popular with the pirates of the Caribbean (the real ones) back in the day – and no wonder that the island of Alcantara had lent its name to the entire country when Alcantara diverged from its former Spanish overlords and set out on the path of national independence. The unique history of Alcantara had also led to it having a uniquely mixed and multicultural population, bringing together peoples from the Americas, Europe, Africa, and Asia in a single melting pot of cultural possibilities, with the unusual feature for the region of having English as the single most common language among the wildly diverse population. The government also recognized Spanish and Mayan as official languages. In the old days, people trying to land on the cliff-girt shores of Isabella had to leap ashore onto the rocks during the rare calm moments between waves as there was neither beach nor harbour. Once the mining was ready to begin, the government had to borrow huge sums of money (well, huge by Alcantaran standards), to construct an expensive artificial harbour. The loans were secured against the future output of the diamond mine – but, since the mine had been so spectacularly profitable, the loans had soon been fully paid off. As for the coral atoll of Serafina, with its tiny little sandbar islands scattered on a jewel cushion of brilliant green water inside the reef, the developers of the airport had been forced to do an extreme amount of dredging to build up enough solid land for the runway. Here, too, the diamond mine had covered the costs – and that included the sizable airport terminal. The Alcantara International Airport had a very unusual feature, in that the ferries from the islands of Alcantara and Isabella actually docked inside the security zone. Their passengers had already checked in and cleared outbound security and passport controls at the ferry terminals on the other islands, before boarding the high-speed catamarans that took them to the airport. Only the passengers departing from the over-water bungalow resorts on Serafina itself had to clear security and passport controls at the airport. Serafina wasn’t part of the view from the pool; it was out of sight behind the rugged spine of the island, over their left shoulders. Rich sighed with sheer contentment, looking out across that panorama with Tommy’s arm holding him close against his side as he inhaled the heady perfumes of the tropical flowers around the terrace and pool. They’d been together for over 20 years, married for 12, and Rich still thought himself the luckiest man in the world, with a rewarding career, this beautiful home, an incredible view, the gorgeous pool, and – better than any of those – his wonderful husband, Tommy. Tommy, for his part, was realizing that the view hadn’t really changed in the last 24 hours, even though his first thought was that it had. He’d still been out here every morning for a swim before breakfast for the last week, the usual routine. The whole vista just looked so much more colourful and attractive on this sunny Saturday morning, now that he had his man back beside him again. They spent the next 20 minutes or so swimming and splashing around, with a little groping and grab-ass just for laughs. Rich called time. As he swam over to the ladder, Tommy was right behind him. Rich started up the ladder, then stopped as he felt his trunks sliding down off his ass – immediately followed by the unmistakable sensation of Tommy’s lips caressing his skin. But then Tommy tugged as little too hard on Rich’s speedo, and Rich let go of the ladder, falling back into the pool right on top of him. As they spluttered for air, Rich wagged his finger at Tommy, laughing. “Naughty boy! Have you forgotten why we have to wear swimsuits all the time out here?” “Uh-huh. Old Mrs. What’s-Her-Name over there called the cops on us when we tried skinny dipping the first week we were here.” “That’s right. And she’s still living there, and I bet she still has her binoculars right by her living-room window.” Cooled off, they climbed out of the pool, still laughing, then went inside, and threw on some casual clothes – before heading downstairs to make coffee and breakfast. Twenty minutes later, they were sitting outside again at the table by the pool, enjoying the warm sun and the pleasure of their company. Somehow, Tommy thought, even the brioche, fruit, yogurt, and coffee had tasted better today. With a second round of coffee poured, Tommy was studying the online news from various different websites, while Rich just basked in the sun. Suddenly, Tommy let out a low whistle, saying, “There’s the kind of story you don’t see as much now as you did back in the day.” Rich sat up. “What is it?” Tommy handed Rich his tablet. The headline above a photo on a popular gay news site read: 90s GAY PORN STAR SUCCUMBS TO AIDS To Tommy’s astonishment, the tablet started shaking in Rich’s hand. Tommy took it away quickly, before Rich could drop it, and gently took Rich’s hand. “What is it, Rich?” Rich had to struggle to form the words. At last, he managed to say, “That’s Carlo.” “Who?” “That porn star. ‘Alfonso Torres.’ His real name is… was… Carlo Montini.” “Yes. That detail’s in the story, which you haven’t read yet. How did you know that, Rich?” Tommy wasn’t angry or suspicious, just curious. “Tommy, it’s Carlo. I told you about him. My first partner, the one I was with when I was going to law school in Canada.” “Ohhhh.” Tommy’s voice slid slowly down the scale as Rich’s answer sank in. It was easy for him to see that Rich was reliving old memories, some comfortable and some much less so, and he just set the tablet aside and held back from saying any more. It was ten minutes or so later that Rich surfaced from his deep, dark cave of memories, and found Tommy watching him – not anxiously, certainly not trying to be nosy, just his usual caring, protective self. “Sorry about that, Tommy. It just shook me a bit, seeing that picture. Brought a lot of things back up that I’ve tried hard to put behind me for good.” “You can’t bury your past, Rich. It’ll always be a part of you.” “I can’t bury my past because some historian like you is sure to dig it up again.” He winked; Tommy laughed, loudly. Then Rich went on. “Hey, maybe I should get you to write my official biography.” Tommy chuckled again. “Sorry, I only write about historically important people with hidden, dirty secrets that need to be uncovered.” “Minister of Justice and Deputy Premier for Alcantara – I think that’s pretty important.” “True – at least until the next election, then all bets are off until the voting’s done. But what’s to uncover? You already told me all the dirty bits. There’s nothing left for me to dig up! Waste of my time, you’ll have to do it yourself!” “Riiiight. And what’s that old saying about writing on asbestos paper?” They both laughed, and Tommy poured some more coffee. But then Rich descended into his thoughts once again. He wasn’t thinking specifically about Carlo, now -- more about the entire strange path of his life – the early years in a suburb of Toronto, figuring out that he was gay, the multiple partners, coming out, law school, Carlo, Frank, the move from law into politics, learning the hard way about how much of power politics happened between the sheets, then meeting Tommy and winding up in Alcantara as a political leading figure. So much more to recall along the way. And, with it, there was the uncomfortable truth that he hadn’t in fact told Tommy about all the dirty bits. Some of them danced right around the edges of his confidentiality oath as a member of Cabinet and the government. A few involved the international profile and trustworthiness of Alcantara itself. And, he thought, as a small country with a one-resource economy, being trustworthy was one of the few cards Alcantara had to play in dealing with larger and far more wealthy countries. It irritated the hell out of him that he couldn’t share these things with Tommy, but that was the nature of the beast and it left him no choice. Political life was a beast in a lot of ways, and it was sucking out his integrity and honesty even as he struggled to hang onto that lifelong stock-in-trade. Rich realized that their joking conversation about an official biography had uncovered an important truth. He needed to get in better touch with his true inner self. At the ripe old age of 55, it was high time that he started to figure out who Richard Dunnatore actually was. After a few minutes, Rich suddenly shook himself free from his reverie, stood up, and stretched. “Damn, I’m tired. I think I’ll go back to bed for a while.” “What’s on the schedule today, Rich?” “Less than nothing. I told Lucy I’d hang her out with the laundry if she tried to stick me with any appointments or meetings today. All I wanted was to get home and be with you.” “So that means I have to go back to bed too?” “Only if you want to, Tommy.” Rich was grinning, though, because Tommy was already rubbing the bulge in his shorts and that bulge was already growing. But Rich shook his head. “Uh-uh. If there’s any action going on now, it’s going to be my turn to take charge.” “Well, come on, Mr. Big Shot – what are you waiting for?” In a few more seconds, the glass doors were closed, the shutters pulled across, and the two of them were back in bed together. Or, more precisely, Tommy was lying on the bed with Rich standing over him, seductively pulling his shorts down to reveal his cock standing proud and erect. “If you want to get Mr. Big Shot’s big shot, you’re going to have to give that some attention.” Tommy leaned up and took Rich’s cock into his mouth, bringing an immediate groan of satisfaction from Rich’s throat. As he slowly sucked and licked on the tool, Rich soon found himself aching to return the favour. In another minute they were lying side by side on the bed, each busily engaged in giving pleasure to the rigid cock of the other. Both of them loved doing sixty-nine. They were so completely in tune with each other, after years of practice, that they fell instantly into each other’s rhythm without even consciously thinking of it. One minute, they would speed up the sucking motions, adding intensity to speed until it seemed that they would both explode at any moment, then the next they would slack right off, pulling free and licking the shafts to allow themselves to cool down a bit, before the next round of building up the sensations. Finally, Rich began sucking at a really furious pace, at the same time squeezing Tommy’s ass cheeks and teasing his hole. Tommy got the signal and speeded up his sucking motions on Rich’s cock. Rich’s legs began twitching in muscle spasms as his cock exploded into Tommy’s mouth, and Tommy shot his sperm into Rich’s mouth a moment later. Multiple squirts later, they slowly released each other’s satiated dicks. Rich swung around to lay his head beside Tommy on the pillow, and they kissed passionately, swapping cum loads with each other in a joyous snowball. For some minutes after they’d swallowed their combined loads, they continued kissing deeply, lovingly, gently stroking each other’s bodies and murmuring their love to each other. Rich began dozing off first, and Tommy pulled him in, letting Rich pillow his head on Tommy’s chest. He murmured, “Happy Saturday,” to Rich and let his own eyes shut, his arm cuddling his husband close to him as he drifted off to sleep again.
- 25 replies
-
- 8
-
-
-
-
- life story
- political life
- (and 2 more)
