The Biggest Tool

[daddybear54]

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.

 

 

 

[randyrawman]

intriguing....love your writing style...

[daddybear54]

17 minutes ago, randyrawman said:

intriguing....love your writing style...

@randyrawman thanks!

[daddybear54]

Chapter 2:  The Shy Guy

 

Adrian walked along the twisting shore road, kicking his shoes moodily into the gravel. He was, as usual, alone. Exmouth was a depressing dead-end trap of a village at the best of times, but Adrian had already learned one of the fundamental principles of life near the ocean – that there is no place so depressing that the ocean and a grey, cloudy, windy day can’t make it more so. It didn’t help matters at all that he was, and had always been considered, the Number One Loser in his peer group. All he could think about was how soon he’d be able to get out of this hellhole for good – and how he could make it happen

The village had one main street, twisting and turning and climbing up and down over the rocky hummocks that passed for hills. The houses, all similar in size and shape, sprawled out along the road for the best part of a mile. Occasionally a short side “street” would lead to a couple of houses that had been denied one of the favoured spots facing the main highway.

At the end of the village – well, there was the trick. It didn’t really end. Like so many similar villages along the windswept, rocky shores of Nova Scotia, Exmouth blended seamlessly into its neighbours on either side. And again, like so many similar places, those neighbours were imaginatively named Lower West Exmouth and Upper East Exmouth. It was impossible for any outsider to know, apart from the signs, exactly where Exmouth gave way to Lower West Exmouth or again to Upper East Exmouth, nor why it should be so. Adrian had never understood it either.

At the ripe old age of fifteen, Adrian Pennyfather scuffed his way homeward from the bus stop where the school bus had delivered him from the regional high school, a forty-five minute drive away from Exmouth (on a good weather day) in the largest town in the region, Lawrason’s Harbour. He was thinking about those laughable village names, as it happened, and pondering about how the pointless nature of the names and boundaries of the villages exactly reflected the pointless nature of his life.

Most teenaged boys go through at least occasional fits of feeling like total misfits, although some cover it up better than others. Adrian had started feeling like this sooner, and found that the feelings were lasting much longer, than they were for most of his contemporaries. His feelings guaranteed that he would feel intolerably shy, unable and unwilling to socialize with his peer group. To put it bluntly, he didn’t care about any of the things they ranted on and on about.

Fish, for starters. Exmouth was, like most coastal Nova Scotia villages, a fishing port. Adrian’s dad, Patrick, was one of the village’s more successful fishermen. He had the biggest and fastest boat in town and had been one of the first in the region to equip it with electronic gear to help with hunting schools of haddock. Even more significant, he’d gone in on shares with two other men in the village to buy a second boat, perfectly equipped for the exacting business of placing and harvesting lobster pots. Patrick Pennyfather was a success, just as his father and grandfather had been before him, and he intended to hand the family trade on to his sons.

Alex, four years older than Adrian, was all for that. He loved the sea and just messing about in boats, and he had a natural gift and an innate love for the whole realm of coastal fishing. Adrian hated it. His father, faced with such resistance to an obvious course of action, simply doubled down on the lessons, the pep talks, the stories of successes of the past, and all the rest. Adrian sighed inwardly and pretended to be interested. He did the same with his automatic registration in each successive level of the hockey leagues, where he made a passable but not glorious defenceman – again, in sharp distinction to the scoring records racked up by his older brother at left wing.

Adrian’s mother, Mary (née O’Leary), a Newfoundlander through and through, had her own obsession – the dating life of her sons.

“It would be a grand thing indeed for you lads to settle down here when you’re of age to be living on your own.”

She was a great one for observing tradition, and her idea was that her boys should date and marry local girls and settle down in Exmouth. Alex, as the oldest, would marry first, of course, and would move into the house next door. That house had been the home of the local family which had adopted Mary after she’d been orphaned. The house was currently rented out to “city folks.” Adrian would follow suit in due course and would build a house for himself and his wife on the back forty of his parents’ property. It was the Exmouth way.

Adrian had followed the same plan as he did with his father – cringing inwardly and invisibly, while coolly pretending agreement to his mother’s Grand Plan.

School was just the same. He had to listen to all the other boys talking endlessly about things which were of absolutely no interest to him at all. Things like fish. And hockey. And girls. More precisely, girls’ boobs. And it was exactly there that Adrian found life at its most intolerable.

“Hey, Ade, bet you’d love to slide your tool in between Linda’s boobs and squirt all over them.”

That was almost a daily comment. Here is where fate had played a particularly nasty trick on Adrian. By whatever miracle of the hormones, he had been almost the first boy in his class to move into puberty, and certainly the first one to begin growing and changing in that vital area. As soon as that happened, it became obvious that Adrian Pennyfather’s dick was going to be the biggest thing going. At that, his nickname took on a whole new resonance.

For years, his fellow students had called him “the biggest tool.” It was a time when the word “tool” had become a common slang nickname for a loser, an outsider, an idiot, or just about any other insult you wanted to heap on someone. “He’s such a tool.” It was when he was in Grade 4 that he had first heard someone say it: “Adrian has to be the biggest tool in class.” And it had continued to be his label. He’d dealt with it by keeping to himself, which fitted in with his natural temperament anyway.

Now, things had changed. The words were being spoken in a tone of awe, tinged with respect. Now it was: “Adrian’s got the biggest tool.” He really did, too, and by a respectable margin. And his classmates now showed an endless obsession with the idea of him using it.

“Hey, Ade, bet you’d love to slide your tool in between Linda’s boobs and squirt all over them.”

Every guy in the school was obsessed with Linda Blairbourn’s eye-catching chest. Well, almost every guy. Adrian didn’t give a damn about Linda and her generously-proportioned mammaries. His ideas ran more along the lines of blasting his juice all over the furry, muscular chest of her older brother, Thomas. There were other guys in the village who turned Adrian’s crank, his older brother Alex being one of them, but the girls – especially Linda Big Boobs – left him cold.

Adrian’s sexual fantasies were getting so strong, in fact, that the daily ritual of stripping and showering after PE class was turning into a real torment. He was lucky that his interest was in older guys – the scrawny, pimply fifteen-year-olds around him did not interest him at all. He was lucky, too, that the sheer size of his dick meant that it wouldn’t spring a woody nearly as fast as his peers’ more average meat sticks.

Proof positive: when he was 17, one of the other boys on the hockey team got brave enough to organize a circle jerk, Adrian was actually the last of the group to get fully hard. He spent the next five minutes or so thinking about the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo until one of the others dropped the first load. Then he let himself enter into the spirit of the occasion. When he did cum, it was an impressive blast that shot high into the air before splattering back down over his body. The other guys murmured in awe. None of them had such a huge cock, and none of them could shoot that high. The truth of the matter was that Adrian was thinking about Thomas Blairbourn, and imagining himself sucking Thomas off to climax in his mouth when he blew.

That year was actually a prime year for the senior hockey team. The group had held together for several years in a run with no additions or subtractions, and they not only defeated Lawrason’s Harbour for the district championship, but went all the way to the provincial finals, losing the final seventh-in-series championship game to an elite team from Halifax in a heartbreaking sudden-death overtime period.

All the same, it was a remarkable season, and even Adrian had fired up enough on the ice to feel that he had made a fair and significant contribution to the run for the cup, especially when he was reaching his eighteenth birthday at the same time. His father thought so, too, and decreed that a short family vacation was in order. The result was a four-night long weekend in Boston. His father, frugal as always, had picked a small but clean hotel in the edges of the downtown area. The family had quickly figured out which way to go to the nearest bus stop so they could explore. Adrian, even quicker on the draw, had realized in no time flat that the hotel was just across the street and down half a block from a gay bar which he’d read about.

On the second night, his parents wanted to go out and see the city all lit up by night. Alex wanted to take in a movie at a nearby theater. Adrian, quiet as always, declined any outing and said that he just wanted to stay in – he was still tired, he explained, from the exertions of the hockey season final games.

Once his parents were clear, and Alex was off and away, Adrian sprang into action. He cleaned up as best he could, put on some discreet dark clothes, and headed out the door. He chose a quiet moment to slip across the street, and in another minute he was in the door of the bar. Sliding up to the bar, he fitted himself in between two older guys, caught the bartender’s eye, and asked for a Coke. The bartender looked him up and down, winked, and pushed a glass full of Coke and ice across the bar to him. “Here you go. On the house.” Adrian thanked him, tipped him, and then turned around to study the room.

At once, he could tell that everyone in the room was studying him. Not surprising. Fresh, young meat, and an unfamiliar face. One sure thing, all the older guys were hovering, figuring out a good way to approach an obviously shy newbie. The winner, though, was another young fellow, no more than twenty (Adrian guessed). This red-headed guy slipped over to him, slapped him on the shoulder lightly, and said, “Hi, I’m Calum.”

“Adrian.”

“And you’re from…?”

“Exmouth, Nova Scotia.”

“Anywhere near Halifax?”

“Not really – you gotta use a magnifying glass to find it on the map.”

“Welcome to Baahston. Like it here?”

The rest of the conversation followed along predictable lines. After barely a minute, Calum realized  that he was dealing with an utter novice, shy as hell to boot, and knew that he’d have to do his best to educate the new kid.

“Come on, Adrian. Let me show you the rest of the place.”

They put down their glasses, and Calum led the way through the door at the back of the room. As they walked through the dark maze of the building, dimly lit with red and blue lights, Adrian caught glimpses of men – half-naked or naked, making out, jacking, rubbing….

“Oh, my God – is that guy actually…?”

“It’s called rimming. Feels awesome! Want me to show you?”

“Here?”

“Why not?”

Just like that, Calum spun Adrian around and pressed him against the wall in a bend of the corridor. There was still room for other guys to get by. He reached around, released the button, and pulled his jeans down. Then he tugged at the waistband of Adrian’s boxers, pulling them down to expose the younger boy’s sweet young ass. Calum spread his cheeks apart, sniffed deeply, and then buried his face deep into Adrian’s crack and began feasting on his hole.

Adrian was feeling totally mind-blown. He’d never imagined anything like this ever happening. None of his unimaginative friends could either. All that these village boys could imagine a man ever doing with another man was cocksucking or cornholing. Calum was taking all of Adrian’s fantasy life and blowing the limits wide open, as his talented tongue and lips showed Adrian whole new worlds of male-male sexual interaction, stirring up feelings the fisherman’s son could never have imagined. Adrian moaned loudly, again and again, and then realized that they were attracting an audience. He didn’t mind. The wanton nature of what they were doing, the cascade of wild new sensations Calum was giving him, the attention from the onlookers….

“Shit! Look at that kid’s cock!”

For once, Adrian didn’t mind his cock being noticed. He hadn’t realized until that moment that he had actually sprung the biggest, hardest woody of his young life. The things Calum was doing to him had given him the wildest turn-on he’d ever felt. Just as he thought that, his education took another massive leap forward. One of the guys watching dropped to his knees and leaned in to begin sucking Adrian’s cock.

If he’d thought he was mind-blown before, this new sensation dragged him clear off the face of the earth. He’d never even come close to guessing what a hot mouth on his cock would feel like. The guy giving him his first blowjob was an expert sucker, but even so he could barely get half of that massive shaft inside his face.

But then Calum broke in. He stood up, leaned closer to Adrian, and said, “Pull up your clothes and come with me.”

Adrian broke away from the virtuoso cocksucker with some reluctance and followed Calum along the hall. Behind him he heard a voice saying, “Damn, that dick was fucking gigantic – I couldn’t even come close to deep-throating him.” 

Calum led him up a flight of stairs, chose an open door and dived in, pulling Adrian after him, and then closed and locked the door. The tiny room they were in had a single bed, and a small shelf with condoms and lube on it.

“Damn, that was hot!” Adrian’s mind was still spinning from everything that had happened.

“Sorry to break your fun, but I wanted to take this to the next level.” With that, Calum moved closer and pressed his lips to Adrian’s – and Adrian was experiencing his first man to man kiss. He got right into it, his hard-on throbbing in the half-opened front of his jeans as Calum taught him more and more.

Calum had his hand fastened onto Adrian’s bulging boxers and was busily squeezing and rubbing Adrian’s giant handful as they made out. Now, he went gracefully down onto his knees and opened up the jeans, pulling down the shorts, wanting to suck this massive meat for himself. Calum wasn’t a bit more successful at taking it all than the older man downstairs, but judging by the moans pouring from Adrian’s mouth, this was not a problem.

Suddenly, Adrian gave a small yelp of surprise and pleasure as Calum’s finger, wetted with spit, slid into his hole. He’d played with his ass himself, of course, but someone else’s finger in there took the game to a whole new level. Calum kept working him with finger (in back) and throat (in front) and Adrian’s moans got louder and more frequent.

Calum stood up again, turned Adrian around and pushed him down onto the bed on all fours. He seized Adrian’s shoes and pulled them off, then followed with his jeans and boxers. Then he dived back into Adrian’s crack again, this time using finger and tongue together. When his probing, questing finger at last found Adrian’s magic button, Adrian cried out, “I can’t stop it – I’m going to shoot!”

Calum quickly dived between his legs, rolling onto his back so he could get the quivering, jumping cock into his mouth. As soon as his lips closed around the head, Adrian exploded. The first spurt nearly filled Calum’s entire mouth. He gulped and swallowed, again, again, a fourth time, and still the sperm kept pulsing out. While he was sucking, he’d grabbed his own tool, given it three or four quick yanks, and exploded onto his own abs before dripping down onto the floor. Finally, he had to surrender and pull away, letting Adrian’s quivering tool fire out the last three or four squirts and then the drizzling aftermath onto his face.

Calum pulled up and sat on the bed, then patted the sheet beside him as an invitation to Adrian to sit with him. Adrian leaned back against the wall, a dazed, all-gone smile on his face.

“Damn, man, do you always shoot a gallon of cum like that?”

“I don’t know. In case you hadn’t guessed, this is my first time with another guy.”

“With that dick, and that kind of cumshot, you’re going to have the guys fighting over you wherever you go,” Calum said in an awed, respectful tone. Adrian laughed. The idea of being popular, in demand, wanted, needed, was so foreign to him that he had to laugh away his bafflement. But then Calum went on. “I’d love to have another round. I just don’t think I could take that dick of death in my hole. I’ve only ever been fucked a few times, and never by anything close to that huge.”

“Do you want to fuck me?”

“You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking? It felt so incredible when you were rimming me and then had your finger inside me. I want to feel it all.”

“So you’ve never been fucked.”

“No. I told you, this is my first time.”

“If you’re sure. I’ll be gentle. But it’s going to hurt.”

“I don’t care. I want you to do me.”

“Okay, then. Lie on your face.”

Adrian did as he was told, and Calum went right to town on his hole again, using tongue and fingers – more than one finger now – to loosen his tight, virgin ass. Adrian continued moaning his pleasure as Calum worked him over.

“Okay, I think you’re ready. Time to change places.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” Adrian got up, and Calum laid down on his back on the bed, his seven-inch cock standing up out of its nest of red hair. “Just plant your hole on it and sit down – at your own speed.”

Adrian proceeded to do that. He straddled Calum, then placed the tip of Calum’s erection against his never-fucked ass pussy. And then he began to push. The pain made him cry out.

Calum said, “Grab the lube – up there.”

Adrian seized the small tube from the shelf, opened it, and smeared it over Calum’s dick and onto his own hole. Then he tried again, wincing at the pressure. After a few seconds, though, something gave way and, with one more searing flash of pain, Calum’s head was lodged inside Adrian’s body.

“Oh my god!” Adrian cried out at the pain, but then he bit his tongue and pushed harder. This was what he wanted, a man’s cock inside his body, inside his ass, filling and stretching him.

“Just hang on. Breathe deep breaths.”

Good advice. Adrian took it. The waves of pain finally ebbed away until he could feel all the sensation of cock in his hole.

“Fuck, that’s amazing.”

“Okay, hold still,”

With that, Calum began gently pushing up and then pulling down, and Adrian realized he was at last being fucked – and it felt incredible. As Calum’s tool pumped in and out of him, his own cock had filled up and was rock hard again, jumping up and down with each stroke.

“Fuck, man, we gotta stop.”

“Why, Calum?”

“We forgot to use rubbers. And I’m about to cum.”

“Fuck that. Keep going and give it to me. I want to feel your cum shooting inside me.”

‘If you’re sure….”

“Quit talking and fucking fill me up!”

Calum resumed pumping and after a few more thrusts he shot. And Adrian felt, for the first time, the sensation of his ass slowly turning wet as the cum spread around the head of Calum’s dick inside him. It was awesome – the most incredible sensation of this whole amazing night.

Calum pushed him slowly upwards until his cock popped out, followed by a stream of cum as Adrian struggled to close up his newly-plundered man hole. He flopped down on the bed beside Calum, and then realized belatedly that he needed to cum again himself. He grasped his huge tool and began sliding his hand, but Calum stopped him.

“Fuck, I don’t care how much it hurts. I want to get that thing inside me, and I want to get your  load as well. Fair exchange!”

He grabbed another tube of lube off the shelf, spread it around and into his hole, and then used his hand to grease up Adrian’s massive tool. Then he straddled Adrian, facing him, and proceeded to push that enormous log into his ass.

Adrian stared in awe as the struggle was written all over Calum’s contorted features. His face turned red as he hissed and gasped for breath, but he was going to get that huge thing inside him no matter what.

In another moment, Calum’s hole surrendered to the inevitable and Adrian racked up another in the day’s list of astonishing firsts – the sensation of feeling his cock inside another man’s ass. But he didn’t have long to enjoy it. Calum had only enough time to make the first two or three tentative movements on Adrian’s enormous shaft before that powerhouse dick convulsed and exploded into his straining hole. Once again, Adrian fired out an enormous quantity of seed in a series of powerful shots. Calum, meanwhile, was beating his cock like a madman and sprayed out a load all over Adrian’s face as Adrian finished cumming inside him.

After they’d both calmed down, Calum led the way to the showers, and the two of them took turns washing and caressing each other, with Calum swatting away a couple of older guys who were getting a bit too pushy. Then he led Adrian back to the room where they could pull their clothes back on before leaving.

Outside in the street, Adrian thanked Calum for an incredible evening.

Calum winked, and said, “I think we’re both going to be sore for a week. With a dick like that, you ought to be in pictures.”

Calum leaned in and the two of them kissed goodnight before going their separate ways.

Across the street, Adrian’s brother Alex watched the two of them kissing under the sign of a well-known gay bar. Mentally, he was congratulating his kid brother. He wished he’d had the nerve to go in there too.

 

 

[Bicycledude]

A fantastic story for me. My maternal grandmother came from Advocate Harbour, Nova Scotia.  She was living with us in what was then the small town of Tracy in the Central Valley of California. She'd recognized that I was different than my three brothers and she became my protector.

Her family had been tories in Massachusetts at the time of the revolution and were granted property in Nova Scotia as a refuge when they fled their home. 
Please forgive my intrusion into your amazing and incredibly erotic story, but it resonates with me on so many levels.

Willis E. “Woody” Higgins
Portland Maine 

[PG1961Canada]

On 6/13/2024 at 9:03 PM, daddybear54 said:

THE  BIGGEST  TOOL

 

Chapter 1:   Force of Habit

 

 

For that matter, who was he? Plain and simple – and he still didn’t really know the answer.

 

Always happy to see a story from daddybear54!!  Excellent!!!

 

 

[daddybear54]

5 hours ago, Bicycledude said:

A fantastic story for me. My maternal grandmother came from Advocate Harbour, Nova Scotia.  She was living with us in what was then the small town of Tracy in the Central Valley of California. She'd recognized that I was different than my three brothers and she became my protector.

Her family had been tories in Massachusetts at the time of the revolution and were granted property in Nova Scotia as a refuge when they fled their home. 
Please forgive my intrusion into your amazing and incredibly erotic story, but it resonates with me on so many levels.

Willis E. “Woody” Higgins
Portland Maine 

Thank you for your lovely message -- no apology needed! I have no family ties in Nova Scotia myself, but I love to go there -- and when I do, I feel very much "at home" in a strange way. Thanks for sharing your response to this story!

[daddybear54]

Chapter 3:  Out at Home

 

That Boston trip had been Adrian Pennyfather’s true awakening. He now knew exactly who and what he was, and what he wanted – and, more to the point, he knew now of at least one way to get it all. No wonder he had such a smug grin on his face whenever he felt sure no one was watching. He was remembering his whole experience with Calum. He hadn’t so much lost his cherry as he had thrown it away as far as possible with both hands.

But now he was back home in Exmouth and feeling more trapped than ever. He knew that he needed to get the hell out and go away to live the life he was meant to have, but the means of doing that continued to elude him. It was his father who, unexpectedly, handed him the key one night after dinner, by calling a family council around the dining table once the dishes were done.

He explained to his family about how he and the boys’ mother had been squirrelling money away in an education fund for their sons, and how Alex had declined the chance to go to university, preferring to use his undoubted smarts to self-educate on all the new trends in the fishing industry which was his great love.

Patrick then offered Adrian the chance to use the fund to attend the Canadian university of his choice, explaining that it had to be in Canada for tax reasons. Dalhousie University in Halifax was an obvious possibility, and there were others in Ontario and farther west. Adrian had already thought that he should study business and commerce, perhaps sensing that he was best suited for a life in some form of self-employment.

Dalhousie had its annual recruitment program and visiting weekend coming up, and Adrian wanted to go. His mother, at this point, got a severe attack of Querulous Motherly Worries and said that he couldn’t go unless Alex went with him. She seemed to think that any place larger than Lawrason’s Harbour had to be a hotbed of violent crime, with shootings happening on every street corner day and night – this in spite of the fact that they hadn’t heard a single gunshot during their extended weekend in Boston. Adrian had agreed in his usual quiet, cooperative way, waiting until she was out of the room to roll his eyes.

A week later, he was sitting in a small hotel room in Halifax with his feet up on the window ledge. After a busy day of exploring around the campus, collecting information handouts and the like, the brothers had stopped at a takeout to grab some burgers and then landed back in their hotel, with nothing to do and no particular plans for the evening.

Adrian was curious, and in his normal way when he wanted to know something, he asked. “Alex, why were you getting so into the whole day, taking so many notes and grabbing all the leaflets? You already decided you didn’t want to go to uni.”

Alex sighed. “Truth is, Ade, I don’t know. I keep going back and forth. Sometimes I feel like the life of a fisherman is what I’m cut out for, and sometimes I just worry about missing out on something much bigger and better. And it’s stressing me out, big time.”

Adrian nodded. He’d sensed this ambivalence, the feeling of strain, in his big brother. “Have you felt this way for a long time or is it just recent?”

“I sort of wondered once in a while about life outside Exmouth, but the feeling got stronger after we’d been in Boston.”

“How you gonna keep em down on the farm, huh? Big city weekend in Boston will do that to you every time!”

They both laughed. But then Alex replied, and his reply startled Adrian into silence.

“That, yes, but something else too. Something I’d realized for a while but wasn’t sure. And then, the second night we were there, I found out for sure.” He paused for a few seconds, drawing breath and strength. “When I saw you across the street, kissing that redheaded guy outside the bar.”

Adrian stared. This wasn’t what he was expecting at all. The seconds dropped slowly away into silence as Adrian pondered what to say next. Finally, a thought came clearly to the forefront.

“So, Alex, now that you know – what next?”

“You don’t have to worry about me telling anyone. If you want to keep it secret, that’s your choice. Just so you know, I wasn’t spying on you. That was a fluke.” He paused again. “There’s one thing I have to tell you, though.” Alex paused again, gulped audibly, and then said it, “I was jealous. I wished I’d had the guts to go into that bar too.”

Adrian’s eyes were just about to pop out of his head by this time. He got the message loud and clear, but it was the last message he’d ever expected to get. He just couldn’t wrap his brain around it. He’d gotten so used to thinking of his gay identity as being tied up with his lifelong social-misfit status, with being the perennial outsider in the group, and here was his popular, athletic, handsome stud older brother telling him that he was gay too.

This time, the silence got to Alex. “It’s weird, Ade. I can’t figure it out. I really want to do things with guys, but I definitely love Peggy and enjoy being with her. I’m so confused. Do you ever feel that way at all?”

Adrian couldn’t help feeling that there was something all wrong about his stable, self-assured elder brother asking him for advice, but it was slowly dawning on him that Alex didn’t have it together nearly as much as he had always assumed.

“In a word, no. I’ve known for a long time that I’m gay, and only interested in guys. Mostly older guys. The guy you saw me with, he was maybe 2, 3 years older than me. I prefer older. From what you’re saying, it sounds like you’re more bisexual than gay.” Alex looked puzzled, so Adrian proceeded to give him a quick outline of the theory of a continuum of sexual interests. As he was speaking, he could see the confused look slowly lifting off his brother’s face.

“Thanks for explaining that, Ade. It’s a big help. Yeah, I’m somewhere in the middle of that continuum and kind of sliding back and forth between the different sides.”

“Wow, this is heavy stuff, Alex. It’s no wonder you’re so stressed about it. Listen, any time you need to talk, you know it’s safe to come to me. We’ve got to have each other’s backs.”

“You got that right!”

They shook hands on it, but then Alex didn’t release Adrian’s hand. Instead, he drew his brother close and wrapped him in a huge bear hug. Both of them relished their newfound feeling of emotional closeness and complicity. Then the dynamic shifted again as Adrian felt his brother’s hand sliding down his back to cup his ass.

Adrian sprang back. “Whoa, brother!”

“Is that a ‘No’?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to go there. For all sorts of reasons.” Alex stood there, looking at him like a puppy who’d just been sternly called a “Bad Dog.” And Adrian tried to explain further. “It’s not like I don’t love you, as my brother. You need to know, I’ve had a major case of the hots for you ever since I hit puberty, and I’ve always had to keep it under control, out of sight, even more than all my other feelings. I’m afraid of what will happen if I let it all loose now, which of us is going to get hurt worse.”

Alex glanced slyly at the front of Adrian’s jeans. “Looks to me like it’s been let loose already.” He stepped closer again and began to palm Adrian’s bulge. “Let’s just see what happens, and we agree it’s one time only and just for us to get some experience.”

Adrian wanted to demur but with his older brother standing over him, with his big firm hand on Adrian’s cock, he just didn’t have the will power. He slowly melted into the moment and let himself go with the flow as his cock continued to expand under Alex’s gentle rubbing. Then he reached out and grasped his brother’s rock-hard dick, rubbing it just as lightly.

He could never remember afterwards how they got each other undressed so quickly, but he never forgot the sensations of embracing each other under the shower, stroking each other’s bodies and soaping each other all over. It was Adrian who first paid particular attention to Alex’s ass, and Alex, always a quick learner, rapidly reciprocated. As they rinsed off the soap, Adrian knew it was time for him to start the lesson.

He had just one moment to think how crazy it was that his second encounter should be to teach someone else what he’d learned from his first time, and then conscious thought fled away as he buried his face in Alex’s crack and began to work on it.

Adrian tried his best but had to admit that his poorly-practiced best was far short of what Calum had given him that night in Boston. He’d given up his ass for the second time, letting his big brother feel the effects of a tight man’s hole on an erect cock. But Alex wasn’t a bit readier than Adrian and predictably kept letting himself get squeezed out. Finally he stayed in long enough to cum inside his little brother, but it  was plain that both of them were less than thrilled.

Adrian summed it all up by saying, “You need two things to really make it work. You need experience, and you need attraction that overwhelms your defences.”

“Just like straight sex in that respect,” Alex added, laughing. With that, Adrian laughed too, and they were over the rough spot.

A few weeks later, Adrian had an invitation to share a ride to Montreal for a similar orientation at McGill University. His mother wanted to lay down the same condition, but Adrian had to tell her that there was no spare room in the car for another person. Alex chimed in, too. “For heaven’s sake, Mom, Adrian is more mature and has more common sense in his little finger than a lot of the adults in this town. He’ll be fine with his friends.”

When  they got to Montreal and settled in, the four guys were talking about what to do that night. Predictably, they wanted to go to a strip club. Adrian begged off, saying that he just wanted to unwind.

The others immediately began hassling him, urging him to come on out and see some real babes with real boobs, and other imaginative things of that kind. Adrian still demurred. Then Paul Porter, the captain of the hockey team, said, “What’s with you? You gay or something? Maybe want to check out some of the gay bars here?”

Adrian was just leaving as Paul asked that. He turned around in the doorway. Without even thinking about it, he answered, the simple truth. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

The reaction was volcanic to put it mildly. And the word was all over Exmouth, Lower West Exmouth, and Upper East Exmouth by Monday morning.

But by that time, Adrian had already gotten just what he wanted. He’d gone off on his own to one of the legendary stripper bars on Ste-Catherine, quickly got invited to join a table with a few other young guys, and had an evening very much to his liking, watching the naked muscle studs dancing on stage, or wandering around the room to ask clients if they’d like private dances. At one point, he commented that none of them were having much luck getting hard, and Matteo, one of the other guys laughed. “Mostly straight, that’s why.”

Adrian found Matteo attractive. Dark, Italianate good looks, a slim well-muscled body (shown off by a snug t-shirt), and a sexy smile and ready laugh. By the end of the first half-hour, Matteo had shifted his chair closer to Adrian, so they were sitting right up against each other. After another hour, and a couple more of the bar’s well-watered drinks, Matteo leaned over in a quiet moment, and asked quietly, “Want to go over to my place? It’s not far.”

Adrian agreed, but he didn’t let his guard down. He’d heard stories. As they walked along the street, he kept his eyes on the street signs, and when they turned down a side street and entered an apartment building, he noted the address. As they waited for the elevator, he texted Paul with Matteo’s name, address, and his picture and the words “call cops if not back by breakfast.”

Inside the apartment, Adrian locked his phone and put it away, ready to have a good time. So was Matteo. He didn’t even bother offering a drink, just drew Adrian right into his arms and began making out. Almost at once, he dropped his hand down to Adrian’s crotch and began squeezing and stroking. It worked pretty quickly. Adrian was definitely turned on by this Italian beauty, and he was excited for what was about to happen.

In no time flat, Matteo had all of Adrian’s clothes off and was diving down to kiss and suck on Adrian’s semi-hard cock. At first, he had it all in his mouth, but as that monstrous pole kept growing longer and thicker he had to back progressively away. Finally, Matteo choked on it and had to spit it out, asking, “Does this thing ever stop growing?”

Adrian laughed. “It’s all the way there now,” he said as he took advantage of the respite to start tugging Matteo’s clothes off. Matteo led the way to the bed, and the two of them laid down, head to tail, and launched into a vigorous sixty-nine. It was true that neither of them were having much luck at deep-throating the other (one because of lack of experience, and the other because of lack of a double-jointed jaw) but both of them were giving it their all. Just as Adrian began to feel that he was approaching the point of no return, Matteo stopped again.

“I don’t know if I can take that tree trunk in my ass or not, but I sure as hell want to try.”

“Here, let me get you ready first.”

Adrian twitched Matteo over onto his face and launched into eating his ass. After doing this trick three times, he definitely had more and better experience at rimming than at anything else – so far. When he had Matteo moaning and squirming on the bed, and that olive-skinned hole was loosening up nicely, he reached over to the bedtable and grabbed the lube that was there. He fingered the cool gel into Matteo’s hole, and around his crack, then spread a generous handful all over the shaft and head of his own massive tool.

“Okay, Matteo, you’re ready to do this now. I’ll lie on my back. You get up and sit on it.”

In later years, he would tell the story after he’d had a couple of drinks at a party, all about the first guy who’d ever gotten all of Adrian’s enormous cock inside his ass. He told it well, but that was just because he had plenty of time to watch and listen as Matteo struggled, to feel the guy shifting around on his epic spear until his insides began to shift and make room, to recall the look on Matteo’s face when one more obstacle gave way and he finally sank right down until his cheeks rested on Adrian’s hips – and he had the biggest cock he’d ever seen all the way inside his gaping hole, tight no longer.

Adrian had already cum once, at about the point when  Matteo was seventy percent of the way there, but he assured Matteo, “I can keep going if you can.” And keep going Matteo did, right to the bottom of the shaft and then up and down in a slow, steady rhythm until he had fucked two loads of cum out of himself and Adrian had blasted a second and even bigger load inside his hard-working fuck tunnel.

Afterwards, when they’d showered and dried off, they lay on the bed together, cuddling some more, and that’s when Matteo said it: “Dammit, with a dick like that you ought to be up on the stage instead of some of those pathetic limp dicks we saw tonight!” Adrian had laughed, but Matteo insisted. “Hey, man, I’m serious!” Finally,  though, Adrian remembered why he was in  Montreal, and got up to get dressed and get some sleep before the open day at McGill in the morning. He and Matteo exchanged phone numbers and kisses as he left.

He got back to the room at about 2:00 am and found that the door had considerately been left on the latch. As soon as he opened it, he heard snoring, so he kicked his shoes off quietly and flopped down onto the sofa bed.

For the rest of the weekend, Adrian volunteered no information, and the other guys didn’t ask for any. Truth be told, all of them liked Adrian as a team member, and were worried about what might happen to him come Monday. Perhaps they all sensed that the less said, the better.

The same could hardly be said of the population of the three Exmouths. One or more of the boys on the road trip had shared the Big Confession with friends back home, and the word spread from house to house and family to family with the speed of a wildfire in dry brush. Alex Pennyfather heard the news from a friend, and decided to keep his mouth shut at home, hoping in vain to help cover his younger brother’s tracks.

But it was all for naught. At church on Sunday, Mrs. Duncraig, the acknowledged champion gossip of the three villages, had approached Adrian’s parents with a loud, “I’m so sorry to hear of your trouble, Mary, Patrick.” When they asked her what she meant, she patted Mary’s arm and said, “Why, about Adrian admitting that he is homosexual. My condolences.” If there had been anyone in the congregation who hadn’t heard about the Big Confession by that time, Eileen Duncraig’s strong, penetrating nasal voice brought them fully up to speed without her even having to talk to anyone else except Adrian’s parents.

That night, when the car dropped Adrian off on his return from Montreal, his parents were waiting for him – his mother sitting at the kitchen table with tearstained cheeks, his father scowling like an unusually violent thunderstorm, and his brother sitting by with a look of concern.

Adrian took one look around the room and sighed resignedly. “I can see you’ve all heard the news.”

Twenty minutes later, after his father had finally run out of fuel for the raging fire of his anger, and his mother had run out of tears, Adrian said, “You asked what I had to say for myself. Okay, yes, it’s true. I’m gay.” And then, as if someone had flipped a switch, his days of being shy abruptly ended. The words poured out of him.

“How do I know? Because I’m the one living it, and I’ve been living it since I was seven or eight years old – that’s why I’m so sure that guys, not girls, are what I want. My future? What am I going to do? I’m not sure yet, except that I know for sure that Exmouth isn’t where I’m going to spend the rest of my life. Where am I going to go? To be decided, but probably Halifax to start with. And then we’ll see.

“Aren’t I ashamed of myself for being so immoral and sinful? Be ashamed for being who I am? Living life like that really would be hell. And don’t even get me started on what I think of a supposedly Christian church that would tell a person to live their entire life in self-hatred. Don’t I even care about what I’ve done to my family? Of course I care, but I can tell you that this had to happen sooner or later. So now it’s happened. Done and dusted.”

His father roared, “You bloody arrogant little girly boy…” and took a step towards Adrian, hand upraised for a killer slap. That was when Alex sprang to his feet and leaped forward, seizing his father’s wrist. Adrian stood stock-still, staring down his father. And the three of them froze.

Patrick slowly turned the spotlight of his fierce glare on Alex. “Are you telling me that you’re a wimpy little fag now, too?”

Alex’s tone was just as hard and threatening as his father’s had been. In that moment, he was every inch his father’s son. “I’m telling you that if you so much as lay a finger on my brother, both of us will be gone – and we won’t be coming back.”

With that, the battle was over – and all four of them likely sensed that the war had also ended. Within a week, Alex and Adrian had arranged a ride to Halifax and a place to stay while they looked around for jobs.

The whole story continued going around and around as a good deal more than a nine days’ wonder in Exmouth, continuously getting elaborated as it travelled from one heated imagination to the next. But Adrian Pennyfather, the guy with the biggest tool, was gone. As far as he was concerned, he’d gone for good.

 

 

 

[seattlebbbtm]

What a wonderfully crafted and narrated story 

[daddybear54]

11 hours ago, seattlebbbtm said:

What a wonderfully crafted and narrated story 

@seattlebbbtm Thank you!