Of course I was nervous, I had modelled before, but not often, and always for a class. This was private. And for a guy. He said he wanted to take to draw me with an eye to producing a series of paintings. We arranged to meet, in a cafe near his house. I already had his address. We had a quick coffee, managed some moderate sized conversation, and went to his flat. And he said if I was ready I should undress. I looked around the room, looking for a screen, or waiting for him to say: use my bedroom, or the bathroom, and here's a robe. I had my own towel for this purpose. Ever professional. He offered nothing. So I asked if he meant me to undress here. He said sure. If that was okay.

I did. Not because I was too timid to demand otherwise, but, this is the thing, this is the confessional, because I thought it would be nice, right, ever so slightly erotic to strip in front of him. So. I stripped. Not so fast, but I didn't hang about. Jacket, one of the black wool things I have. Then I sat and undid my boots, pulled my socks off whilst I was there. Then stood to unbutton my shirt. And took this off. He wasn't really looking at me, was on the other side of the room, coming in and out, bringing in paper, pencils, charcoal, this sort of thing. I undid my cords, the straighter ones, so I had a belt on as well, pulled this loose, unzipped, pushed them down. So, just my boxer shorts left. I didn't wait, this wasn't a striptease. I bent and pulled them down and stepped out of them. I was naked. Nude. Standing in this strange man's flat. On his plain wooden floor. I knew also, I was ever so slightly, not aroused, not quite, just - I looked down at myself, and could tell - my penis was ever so slightly swollen, was not as small as it usually is when I am soft, was straighter, just, than usual, longer, heavier. I waited for him.

He finally came and stood in front of me, looking, staring, studying. He came right out with it. I mean, he had already drawn me, he knew my naked body pretty well. He knew my proportions. And what was normal.

"Sam?"

"Yeah."

"Uh, listen, um, are you, well, you look a little different?"

"What?"

"I mean, excuse me for saying, but your penis looks bigger than it does in the class?"

"Oh, uh, really?"

I make a show of looking down, as if I'd felt nothing. "Really? I don't think so."

"Right. Right. Okay."

There is sensation in my stomach. A sort of nervousness. It bubbles through to my groin. To my tight clenched scrotum. He looks again, he stares. I feel his eyes upon me.

"Except, I mean, it is, you are, it's okay, I don't mind."

And the conversation started to affect me.

"But, well, I need you to look normal, relaxed, the way you look when you stand for the group, completely soft, and, well, small really, this was what I wanted to draw, in particular poses, I wanted a model who had a classical look, toned, firm, not much hair, and with a small little dick, and, I mean, I am sure your cock is slightly, I mean, are you getting a little bit hard?"

I was, the more he spoke, the words he chose to use, I don't know why, the more he looked, I knew I was. My breathing became ragged, sweetly nervous. He was looking down, paper and pencil in hand, just staring at my penis. I could feel myself getting harder. I could feel my exposed cock rising, filling. Without having to look. He suddenly wasn't saying anything. I finally looked down. And the visible proof of my arousal made me more excited. My cock was sticking out, unambiguously engorged. You could see it was pointing out away from my body, away from my scrotum, which was deliciously tight, drawn up, small and round. My penis was swelling. It was obvious.

"Right, okay, you're getting an erection aren't you, I mean, your cock is getting hard?"

"Fuck, sorry, yeah, I don't know why."

"Okay, listen, I don't want to ruin the mood, oh, fuck..."

I looked again, my cock was sticking up vertically in front of me, as thick and long as I ever was, completely, almost painfully erect. I was upright, rearing from between my legs, my cock was rigid, pointing up from my groin, straight, away from my body in a thick dark prong of aroused engorged male sexual organ, exposing the tight wrinkles and seam of my scrotum. I could see myself quivering in front of my belly.

"Rob, sorry, really, I mean, I have modelled, you've seen me, this hasn't happened before."

"Sure. Well. Okay then. We'll have to get rid of that."

"I know, sorry, maybe, if we wait for a bit..."

"Wait? Really? Hmm."

I look at him looking. This is not quite the first time this has happened, that another man is looking at my naked body whilst I am completely erect. But fuck. In this context, a man is staring at my stiff penis. When I really shouldn't be aroused. I feel this thought should be the one to cause some sort of deflation. It doesn't. I look at him looking. And my cock throbs.

"Sam, I can't just wait, I want to draw you, but not when your cock is hard. So. Perhaps you'd like to do something about it, I don't mind if you do that here, quickly."

"Do what?" I know, I am sure I know what he means, but he can't can he? He can't want me to?

"Masturbate, can you please? Can you masturbate quickly to get rid of that?"

And I realise I am considering this. Instead of leaving, dressing, instead of thinking the anti-erotic things, taking the icy-cold shower. I realise the idea of masturbating in front of him, him, is undeniably arousing.

I look down at myself, at my rigid prick, sticking out between us, up.

"Sam? Are you going to stroke that stiff cock until you come? Or not? Quickly?"

"Here? I mean, maybe I the bathroom, should I go there?"

"If you really want to. Do you want to? Or would you prefer to touch yourself here, would you prefer to jerk off in front of me? Stroke your hard dick until you come? In front of me?"

And I reach down and take hold of my erect penis, with him watching, I have rarely felt as aroused, my cock is hot and thick and tremblingly sensitive. I look at Rob, who is staring at my groin, at my hand. I pull my soft foreskin back, slowly, exposing the last part of my swollen member, letting him see the shiny wet smooth bulb of my prick. I pull, I grip my hard stem and stroke my penis, looking at him looking. Fuck. I am masturbating not just in front of another guy, but for another guy.

"Quickly Sam, please. Quicker."

His voice has dropped an octave, sounds ever so slightly hoarse. I realise in a vertiginous second that he is as aroused as I am. I glance at his groin. And see the unmistakeable bulge of his cock underneath his jeans, I can see the larger longer curve of his engorged excited prick. And rub myself harder, quicker. My climax is going to arrive with unseemly haste. My cock is throbbing, deliciously alive. I rub my aching stem quickly, feeling my tight heavy balls slap against my thighs. I don't have the control to slow down, I can feel critical levels of pleasure already building deep within me. I stare, I look between his legs, I am sure his cock has grown some more, has lengthened, I am sure it is bulging more prominently in his lap. I grip my hard shaft, I manipulate my soft tender foreskin over the smooth sensitive flesh of my glans, the pleasure is exquisite, overwhelming, forbidden transgressive unbearable pleasure.

My orgasm builds, I do nothing to try to slow it down, I want, I realise, I want to come in front of him, I want him to watch me coming, I want him to see me spurt my semen out over his polished wooden floor. I am passed the point of being able to control it, I hold the base of my erect penis, holding my foreskin back, breathing heavy and ragged, looking at him look. I stare at the shape of his aroused penis, I think of him looking at me, becoming hard, his cock swelling with excitement as he looks at my nude body, my tight balls and stiff prick. I look at the thick length of his swollen penis. And feeling myself start to come. I glance at myself as I start to ejaculate. I know myself, I know my usual amounts of cum. I watch as the first of five thick creamy white ribbons of spunk leap from the exposed tip of my penis and splash out between us. I clench and push harder, my knees weak, I look at him looking at me come, the second lash of semen thicker than the first, longer, paler, landing almost on top of his bare feet.

I let go.

"Right, okay, if you could stand back a little, and turn a quarter step away, right."

I am still more or less facing him. And my penis is still more or less fully erect. I force myself to concentrate now. I try to will myself down. I am young, but really, not young enough to remain erect immediately after an orgasm.

I see him stand, and glance. Down. I glance at his groin. And see the thick solid length of his still obviously aroused cock. I can see he is still turned on, still at least semi-hard. His penis is pushed down along his leg, looks large, thick. Fuck. I feel myself react, again, again at the knowledge I should not be getting aroused, I should not be getting hard. But I do. I feel myself pulse and skip upwards. I look. My cock is rigid again, vertical, thick and hard.

"Sam, your cock is still erect."

"I know, fuck, I am sorry, I don't know why."

"You do know why, tell me please."

"No, I mean, I don't, I can't..."

"Tell me, Sam, tell my why your cock is still completely hard."

"I can see you are..."

"What? I am what?"

"I can see you cock is hard as well, sorry Rob, but, I can see your cock is stiff."

He looks down at his crotch. We both do. We look at the blatant proof of his arousal. He looks back to me, and we look at the unguarded evidence of my own continued arousal, still jutting out between us. And he puts his paper down on a chair behind him, faces me, stands up, and starts to take his clothes off.

He is looking me in the eye, then down, slowly, deliberately down to my aching cock. I am standing naked in this artist's flat, naked and with another raging hard on, and he is undressing, and, I know, I could easily have dressed, at this point, at any point, and I didn't. I watched. Long forgotten desires kept me in place. He stripped off his shirt, carefully, not slowly, letting me see him expose each part of his body. I looked at his bare chest, smooth, hairless, toned, tapering in to a slim waist. I watched as he unbuttoned his jeans, pulling each half of the zip apart, pushing them down his legs. As soon as he took his trousers off, as soon as he stepped out of them and faced me in nothing but a pair of pale blue briefs I could see more clearly the bulge of his penis, I could see the thick curve of his cock pressing out against the thin material of his underwear, it wasn't sticking out, but I knew he was turned on. I could see his cock, long and thick, pushed down by his tight pants, but swollen, lying flat against his thigh, straight, thick, fuck, he was obviously hard. His cock looked large. I didn't know for sure, still, despite this obvious giveaway, but I had thought before, assumed really that he was gay. So. I was still naked and still visibly aroused in a gay man's apartment. And he was about to strip off in front of me. He did so.

He bent and pulled down his tight blue briefs, I watched him strip, naked, I saw this strange handsome man pull off his underwear, and cause his swollen penis to bounce outwards as he freed it, I watched another man expose his hardening cock, I watched it swing outwards as he stood in front of me, in one movement he was as naked as I was. And I stared. Down. His penis was sticking out now, above his already visible testicles. His balls were large, fat oval protrusions stretching the tight dark skin of his scrotum. His smooth scrotum, like he shaved or waxed, I looked at his naked rising prick, he was circumcised, his glans was smooth and pale, paler than mine, already showing, I could see the tight lips of his meatus, the taut rim of his tender corona. And his cock was still pulsing upwards. I felt, this is the confession, pleasure, tantalising physical pleasure, drug like, sexual bliss. My arousal didn't wane. It increased. I felt that trembling churning excitement in my stomach, in my balls. My penis was rigid, upright, still completely erect. Watching his cock jump up. He was good looking, clean cut, dark hair, clean shaved, his chest was smooth and tight. I think he trimmed his pubic hair. He had a small neat dark brown square above the thick solid base of his penis. And his cock kept getting bigger. He kept looking at me, staring at my stiff exposed penis, as I looked at him, his large balls, he was taller than me, not sure about his age, smoother. And bigger. And this, here it is, it turned me on. This turned me on.

He became fully erect. I looked, I was staring, dry mouthed, I was turned on, seeing him respond, seeing the flagrancy of his arousal, the visual proof of it. And, this took me by surprise, I might have thought I'd like him to be smaller than me, but he wasn't. I was further aroused by the size of his hard penis. The fact he was bigger than me. I felt my mouth open. His cock was huge. I mean, I know am just over seven inches, seven and a half on a good day, when fully erect, when I am as hard as I can be, which I was. And thick enough. Not a bad size, within the average range, perhaps towards the higher end of the spectrum. I looked at his stiff prick. I judged his hard penis was nearly nine inches long. He looked that much bigger than me, and thicker. Fuck. I felt myself start to ooze. He was huge. His shaft protruded thick and straight, displayed thicker ridges and veins than mine, his exposed bulb was fatter, more pronounced. Even the tight lips of his cock opening looked larger, fuller. He stood naked, firm, smooth, completely fucking erect. We both faced each other with bare exposed, rigidly hard jutting members pointing up and out towards each other.

"Well then Sam, what do you like?"

"Like?"

"Yes, what do you like to do?"

"Um, well, I mean, I'm not gay."

"Uh-huh."

"Really."

"Of course you are not, anyway, you are here, in my apartment, and I am gay, I fuck men, I love men's bodies, naked cocks, hard, I love sucking erect cocks, love the taste, the feel, my mouth filling with hot cum. Okay? I love sliding my cock inside a guy's tight asshole, I love being fucked, god, I love feeling a guy pushing his hard dick inside me. I do pretty much everything, I don't believe in rules, or roles. So you are in the apartment of a gay man, a gay male artist, as it happens, you are naked, in front of me, letting me look at you, at your lovely nude body, at your beautiful stiff dick, I am naked, and you are looking at me, at my hard dick. So, we're here, naked together and we are both obviously fucking aroused."

"Well, I, uh, I suppose."

I play dumb a little bit. I want him to carry on speaking.

"You are obviously aroused. You are naked, I can see how aroused you are. So, what would you like to do? You can have a cold shower, or leave, you can masturbate here again, in front of me, which I think I would quite like, we can masturbate in front of each other, until we both come, I like to see you come, or you can jerk off in the bathroom, on your own, if you insist. Or, well, this is where it could get interesting, I can touch you, I can stand closer..."

He stands closer, he takes a step towards me, his stiff member taking small circular jumps as he strides.

"... and hold your stiff penis and masturbate you, until you climax. You don't have to touch me, but you can, you can touch my hard cock, if you like, so we can masturbate each other. Or, I can suck your cock, I can take your penis in my mouth, again, until you climax, I would certainly enjoy that, I know you would. We can go to my bedroom, and we can suck each other's hard cocks, you can take my dick in your mouth, we can use our mouths on each other until we both come. Or, I can fuck you, how about this? I can go to my room, and get a condom, some lube, and I can apply some to my cock, and your ass, and I can fuck you. I can push my hard dick deep inside your tight little ass? You can feel what it is like to have a guy's hard cock inside you. Are you a virgin there? Would you be feeling my hard cock inside your virgin asshole. Anyway. What would you like to do? Oh, I forgot, of course, if you like, you can fuck me, you have a nice looking dick, not huge maybe, but not small either, pretty large I guess, but it looks so fucking gorgeous, just smooth and thick and fucking hard. I would definitely like to feel you inside me, fucking my tight little ass. So?"

I looked at both of us, his larger circumcised cock, my smaller uncut one, and I said it, here it is. I looked at another man's hard cock, in the flesh, maybe not quite for the first time, but here was another guy looking at my erect penis for the first time in such a long while I had forgotten this reaction was possible. I was faint with arousal. And I didn't stop. I had all these options. I could have backed off, or felt as if I was forcing myself, in it for the experience, for the chapter in the memoir. The truth though, my arousal led me.

And I said: "I want your cock in my mouth, I want to see you, I want to see and feel my cock in yours, and I want..."

"Yes? Sam? Tell me?"

Could I say it? Out loud? I looked again, at this naked guy, this bare smooth erect guy. Excitement conducted my words.

"I want to feel your cock in my ass, I mean, oh christ, I want to suck your cock and I want you to fuck me, I want your beautiful big cock inside my tight virgin asshole."

"Okay then, this way."

And he walked out of the room, I watched his tight pale hairless ass wobble gently as he stepped, and I followed, my cock swayed from side to side as I walked. To his bedroom. He stood on one side. I stood on the other. "Let's get on then."

I did. I lay on his bed, on my side, facing him as he got on, on his side, facing me. We were inches from each other, I could feel his breath on my face, I could feel the heat coming from his naked body. And I could sense his hard cock next to mine, his smooth naked body so close to mine.

"Sam."

"Yeah."

"Touch my cock, please, touch my hard cock, fuck, touch me."

And I did, for the first time, I reached, I looked down at what I was doing, at his pulsing jutting rigid penis, longer than mine, thicker, fuck he was big, I reached and looked, opened my fingers, and touched another man's stiff hot cock, fuck, I felt the heat from his engorged member, first, I felt my fingers graze his soft smooth tip, then I opened my hand and closed it around his huge hard cock. I touched another guy, another guy's erect penis. It felt amazing. There it is. It felt just incredible. Familiar, yet forbiddingly strange. He felt even larger than he looked, he felt enormous, it felt like I had a foot of erect penis between my fingers. Hot, so fucking hard, utterly rigid, covered in his velvety smooth skin. I wrapped my hand around his thick thick shaft, and pushed, and pulled, my fingers grazing his flat smooth belly, opened by the width of his hard stem, held tight by his full warm engorged tissue. I stroked his stiff penis.

"Oh Sam, oh fuck, oh fuck that feels good, oh god. Can I touch you? Can I hold you? Do you want me to touch your naked body? Your beautiful hard cock?"

"Yes, god, touch my cock, touch my naked cock."

I looked again, between us, I saw him reach down and curl his fingers, his fingers around my erection.

"Oh fuck. God your cock feels so good, god you're so fucking hard, jesus, can I pull your foreskin back? Sam? Would you like me to?"

"Yes, fuck yes."

This was developing into the theme, we were asking, telling, requesting, a filthily erotic juxtaposing of the polite and the carnal, the decorous and profligate. Still though, I hadn't sunk quite into the moment, I hadn't lost myself in purely physical pleasure, and, I didn't want to. This was a man, not a woman, not the soft giving moist flesh of a woman, this was a guy, tall, strong, muscular, not so hairy, smooth and fresh, but a guy, with a tight ass, a firm broad body. I looked. I felt quivering arousal, at his flat belly, his ripped abdomen and pectoral muscles. This was a man, and I had his hard penis in my hand, his large long thick hard cock.
With my erect cock in his. He stroked my soft foreskin back, and exposed my smooth dark wet glans. Darker than his I noticed, smoother maybe. Seeping the same glistening pre-cum.

"Oh god Sam, fuck, I love your soft skin, your beautiful soft foreskin, fuck, your dark fat cock head looks so fucking good, oh fuck, oh god."

"Rob, can I, can we..."

"Say it, Sam, say it."

"Can I touch my cock against yours, can we rub our hard cocks together?"

"Oh fuck, oh..."

I took this as a yes. And pushed him onto his back. His penis hovered stiffly above his stomach. I moved over him, my legs touching him now, either side, and felt the heat from his cock against mine, I slide my hard prick over his, the soft valleys between our rigid tissue slipping and pushing. I felt my scrotum move up over his stem. This was so bad, so wrong, I was straight, all my friends, I had a girlfriend, I really did, I know, at the fucking least I was cheating on her, which would be bad enough, but I was fucking another man, not a woman, I was pressing my stiff prick against his, his larger, longer, thicker dick, and it was driving me wild.

"Can I touch your ass? Sam? Can I stroke your soft little ass?

"Yeah, oh fuck, oh fucking hell"

And I felt his hand pull me closer, I spread my legs, this felt so natural, I sat astride him, my balls against his, my rigid stem pressing and moving against his. And felt his rough fingers touching my naked butt. Pulling me onto him, holding, stroking, kneading the tight muscles of my bare ass. We rubbed cocks, our flat damp bellies sliding, and he whispered now, and I realised he was as turned on as I was. I don't know why this surprised me, his cock was hard, but that his excitement was making his voice so hoarse, so ragged. This was arousing, this sent a fresh flutter of pleasure into my penis.

"Sam, oh fuck, I want to touch your asshole, oh, oh fuck, will you let me touch you there?"

"Oh fuck yes, touch me, fuck, touch my tight little ass. Fuck, I want to kiss you."

"Mmm, mmm. Are you gonna?"

And I kiss him, I kiss another man with passion and pleasure, for the first time our lips touch, our mouths open, and our tongues stroke. I feel his strong hands on me, his huge stiff cock on mine, and his full soft lips, I can feel the prickle of his stubble over his chin, above his lip, less than a day's worth, I kiss him harder, and lose myself in the crossing of this boundary, this first, most intimate invasion. I hear myself groan, without affect, without self-consciousness. I groan and gasp and kiss him deeply, wrestle his tongue with my own.

I touch his bare chest, I feel his hard long cock against my skin, against my belly, rubbing with unbearable friction next to mine. And then his fingers touch my soft tight hidden asshole. Our penises together. And another guy's finger on my virgin ass. What did I want? I pulled my head back. And looked down.

"Turn over, can I turn you over?"

He pushed me off and rolled onto his front. I gazed at his long smooth back, his shoulders, his narrow waist. And the bulge of his full strong muscular ass. His skin was clear and pale, virtually hairless, I touched his back, his shoulders, and kissed him there. I felt my lips touch his soft sweet smelling skin. And moved lower. Fuck. I could stop, I should. I didn't. I moved my mouth lower until I was licking his butt, until I was opening my mouth over this guy's tight firm ass. I heard him moan now, and gasp.

"Oh fuck, oh god..."

"I want to taste you, can I? Can I put my lips on your asshole? Can I lick your tight little asshole?"

"Oh fuck Sam yes, oh god, eat my asshole, oh let me feel your soft sweet lips on my tight ass."

I pulled him up and kissed the damp humid cleft of his butt. And pushed my head lower, he was almost kneeling in front of me, I could see the twin globes of his testicles hanging between his legs, and the tender skin of his perineum. Fuck. I didn't do this that often with women. Was I really going to do it with this guy? Again, I didn't answer, or choose, it was there, I wanted to, had to. I pulled his ass to my face, and looked at his anus. I looked at his soft, smooth asshole, pink, hairless, a tight wrinkled slit. I dipped my head and touched ran my tongue all over his hot dam cleft, up to the small of his back, over his ass, kissing, tasting the salty tang of his sweat, and back, between his buttocks, licking every inch of his smooth crack, finally, fuck, feeling his crinkled opening, and touching it with my lips. Fuck. I kissed his hidden bud. I opened my mouth and pushed my tongue against him, I licked his asshole, I stroked his smooth warm anus with my moist probing tongue. And heard him gasp. And nearly came. I really did. If he had still been touching my cock I would have climaxed there and then. The knowledge and sensation of what I was doing was nearly excruciatingly arousing. I held his tight buttocks in my hands, held them apart, and licked this man's anus. I breathed his odour, his sweet pungent earthy smell, and pushed my tongue harder against him, I wanted more, I pulled and reached and gripped his cock, and felt how hard he was.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck Sam, oh god, oh... oh, touch my cock, oh fuck, stroke my fucking dick, fuck, hold my cock, oh fuck, kiss me, let me feel your tongue on my asshole, oh fucking lick my tight little ass, oh god..."

I pressed my lips against the smooth flat skin of his crack and pushed the tip of my tongue onto the centre, onto the tiny opening of his sphincter, I pushed, and felt the tip of my tongue enter him, oh fucking hell, this was so incredible, this was, I mean it, utterly fucking pleasurable. I felt my tongue slide inside his asshole, and felt his cock thicken, fuck, he pulsed, his huge thick cock pulsed with arousal, as his hot I stroked his slick penis, along his shaft, I feel each delicious ridge, each tiny undulation in his solid thick stem, slipping up to his bare glans, I ran my fingers over the crown of his tender swollen cock and slid my tongue into his tight beautiful asshole. I am close without being touched.

"Oh Sam, oh fuck, oh god I am going to come, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh this is so fucking good, this feels so fucking... oh, oh fuck. OH FUCK..."

And he comes. I make him come. With my hands, my mouth, my probing tongue. I make this gorgeous strong hard big guy climax. His anus tightens, my tongue is squeezed out, I feel his balls quiver, I let my fingers touch the tight full skin of his scrotum, I feel the pulses and spasms in his body, and my fingers are suddenly covered in thick warm liquid. And I realise he is coming, for real, another man is ejaculating over me, over my hand, I touch his soft fat glans and feel each hot jet of cum as it is spurted out of his huge hard cock. And as he comes I raise myself, and hold myself, I grip my own turgid rail of trembling cock, and give in to my own orgasm, fuck, I start to come over another guy, I hold my stiff prick and stroke myself, once, once is enough, pulling my foreskin back and watch myself spurt my own white trails of semen over his bare back, I feel his hot issue as I watch long streams of white fluid leap from my penis and splash over his naked back, his ass. He seems to come and fucking come, we empty our tender swollen balls, my fingers are dripping with his thick semen. I run it over his pulsing spasming member, coating his penis with his fresh spunk, rubbing my warm seed into his soft skin.

He falls flat onto the bed, I fall next to him, he rolls onto his back, his cock flops upwards, we lay next to each other in this position, both of us still naked, both of our spent penises thick and heavy and seeping cum onto our bellies.

I think we stayed that way for about ten minutes or so, dozed. I woke, and had that split second or so of wondering where I was, then why I was naked. Then, this was the kicker, why there was a naked man lying next to me. I surveyed my head: what did I feel? Some guilt? Or shame? Some fear about what this meant? That I was now different? Not me? None of this really, more, well, exhilaration: fuck, oh my god, I am naked with another man, also naked. I just had sex, of a sort, with another guy, I just had gay sex, I held a man's erect penis, and licked his ass, I stroked his soft smooth asshole with my mouth, and ejaculated over his nude body. The thought was thrilling.

And I looked at us, when I could have got up, got dressed, left. I looked at his naked body, his soft heavy cock, still lying flat over his stomach, still long, still thick. I stared at his exposed tip, the soft seam running down the underside of his stem. And his now stretched scrotum, his large balls pulling it low over his thigh.

I have the invading idea to bend and pull the soft tip of his bare penis into my mouth.

I looked at myself. My own spent cock. My foreskin still retracted, a smear of clear fluid escaping my opening. I did get up, I walked to his bathroom, staying naked, pissed, and splashed water on my face, and looked at myself in his mirror. My naked body, my patch of pubic hair, my long soft penis. And then he is behind me, I see him, wearing his underwear again, his T-shirt. He has got dressed. I think it's probably time to leave. This is my thought: I don't want to be the one to hang around here. And then he says:

"Well, are you still okay to do some modelling? You don't have to, if you'd prefer to leave?"

"No, sure, of course. Yeah let's do some."

"If you don't mind, sorry Sam, but, I wanted to draw you in a particular state, your penis I mean, and your scrotum, I wanted you to look as you do when you model for the class."

"Sure, how is that?" I think I know what he means, but I push for some clarity.

"Well, you penis looks soft and quite small, and your testicles are pulled up tight, your scrotum is drawn in tight I mean."

"Right."

"And at the moment, well, your penis looks long, like you just came, your foreskin is pulled back, and your balls are low."

"Do you want me to take a shower? A cold shower?"

"Is that okay?"

"Sure, yeah."

He nods to a cubicle in the corner of the bathroom, not a cubicle really, a large flat basin on the tile floor, not surrounded by a door, or a curtain, just a larger, slight concave space with a drain at the centre. And a large metal shower head fixed from the ceiling.

"Here?"

"Yeah, it that okay?"

I walk to the shower, aware he is still in the room, still looking at me. I stand with my back to him, and turn the taps on, and feel the outer edges of thin streams of warm water. I step under. And let myself get wet. I feel my skin tighten and react. Again, still aware he is watching. I tweak the dial and make the water as cold as I can stand, and let a nearly icy stream blast against my face, my chest, I step back and let the water flow over my midriff. I feel the cold affect my cock, begin to pull my scrotum in tighter. I turn. He is still there. He is looking, up and down, I look at him, in his eyes, down to his groin. I stare at the long curve of his penis in his underwear. And smoothed the cold water over myself, aware, I think, that he was looking with something more than professional interest, and, again, enjoying him look. I was showering for him, showering naked for another man. I let water cover my penis, my balls, and took hold of myself, holding my foreskin back, rubbing my exposed tip, cleaning myself, stroking back so my glans was covered, and feeling a fresh pulse of arousal leap into me. I felt myself hardening again.

"Sam, uh, do you think you could stay in the shower for a little, whilst I draw you? Quickly I mean?"

"Yeah, I could do that."

He leaves, for less than thirty seconds, and comes back with paper, a stick of charcoal.

"If you could do what you just did, with your hands in your hair, facing me, and looking at me, is that okay? And hold that?"

"Sure."

I posed. My hands just at the top of my forehead, my elbows wide, my legs a few inches apart, the cold water flowing over my back, over my shoulders and down my chest, trickling over my cock, my now tight balls. And he drew me. Sitting on the closed toilet seat. His legs crossed, the sketch pad resting on his crooked knee. I stood as still as I could, feeling my arousal wane, feeling my cock shrink and my scrotum tighten. The pleasure was intense though, at a level less than sexual, but thrillingly physical, being looked at during such an intimate moment, being studied, I felt the sweetly nervous churning in my stomach, hyper aware of my nudity, of being examined. My eyes were open, looking at him, watching his eyes move between my body and his charcoal version of it, watching his hand move, feeling myself react, feeling each stroke of his gaze, over my belly, my wet plastered flat pubic hair, and my penis. I knew I was soft, I was desperate to look down, to see how soft, to see if there were signs of arousal. My cock seems to have several minds of its own, seems to have half a dozen co-existing personalities and physical manifestations of same. I wondered which was showing, the shy, cold, withdrawn one, when I my cock does look small, soft, thin, a narrow wrinkled curl of bobbling skin. Sometimes longer, fuller, thicker, hinting at arousal, hinting at length, solid size.

I held my pose for about five minutes. Not thinking of anything, I realised, I was not thinking of him, of his penis, the one I had just held in my hand, I wasn't thinking of his naked body, his smooth bare skin, his tight strong ass, the tight soft sweet asshole I had just tasted. I was deep in a physical experience, but not exactly that either, it was close to an out of body experience, being watched, aware of this objective presence and effect.

Then my arms started to throb. And the water was starting to make my head ache.

"Do you want to stop? I have a nice sketch. You can stop."

I dropped my arms, and stepped forward, out of the water. Glancing down. My penis was tight and small. Soft, childlike really. This was familiar to me, and to him, this was how I appeared when modelling for the class. When I made sure I had taken a cold shower beforehand. Preferring the class members to think I had a small cock than see me even slightly aroused. Not that this was guaranteed to work, sometimes a cold shower had the opposite effect and I stepped out feeling both invigorated and erect. Not now though, possibly as I had just come. Anyway. I turned the water off and stood in front of Rob, wet, naked, soft, and small. My balls were pulled up into a tight round pouch, and my penis was a little wrinkled frond of damp skin.

"Wow, this is exactly, I mean, you look just right now, sort of ... well, beautiful really. God. If you could dry yourself, and come next door, I want you to stand by the window, and the light should just catch you in a certain way, if that's alright?"

"Yeah, of course, however you want me." Aware of the slight double meaning, aware that I am saying it with less innocence than an hour or so ago, that there is the real possibility of acting out this second meaning. Again. I find I do not back away from this, or bury it somewhere in my sub-conscious. I am naked, I am ready to pose.

He positions me in front of a large bay window, which doesn't have a blind or curtain, which may not quite be visible from the street, but which I am sure allows anyone in the building opposite to look in and see me. Again. this thought has some merit, has some appeal. I am modelling, I am nude, legitimately so, if people can see me then so be it, frankly, more than so be it, I hope people can see me, see us, I want people opposite to glance out and see my nude body, see my naked ass. I am half profile, mostly facing into the room, but I think from one of the windows further along the opposite building someone could look over and see my front, they might easily look and see the exposed soft penis of an adult male. They might look and see a fully naked man standing in the window, his soft small cock in full sight.

I hope they notice I am standing still, if they look at all, I hope they know I am posing for an artist, and not posing for them, not deliberately exposing myself, flashing. This is not my thing. I consider this as Rob sharpens pencils and charcoal and sits, still wearing just his tight briefs and T-shirt. As he sits, and studies. I look at his eyes, roving over my bare skin. I like to be looked at, this seems obvious, not from vanity, not to show off ('look at me, look at my glorious nude body, look at my fat cock and wonder'. No, I am under no illusions about my attractiveness, I know I have some, perhaps even a lot, but I don't imagine the sight of my soft penis will cause anyone, certainly not everyone, to collapse in heaps of moist or erect quivers), and, as I said, only when there is some legitimate reason, a changing room, a clothing optional beach. A casually open bedroom door might be a parade too far. Now though, a paid life model posing for an artist, able to be seen, obviously, by him, also, as it happens, possibly, by people in the flats and apartments opposite.

I hear the scratch of his pencil on the paper. He shifts his position. I look at the thick bulge of his penis. And feel my own. I want to see myself as he does, I realise, I want a sense of what he sees.

Minutes pass. My legs start to cause me some pain, I stay as still as I can. Did he give me a time for this pose? Ten? Twenty minutes? I could ask. I say nothing. The pain is off set by the delicious sensation of being looked at naked. Of being naked. This is really what I came for, nothing else. The knowledge that we had both been naked a short while ago, both of us nude, erect, that we touched each other's bare bodies, each other's hard cock, this was receding into the familiar territory of many memories, it happened, I knew it did, but it was as if, somehow, it had happened to a different person.

"Right, you can move, would you like to see?"

"Yeah, yeah I would."

I know I should find my towel, wrap it around myself. I do not. I want to remain exposed to him. I stretch and bend and walk to his side and look at the two quick sketches he has done of me, and the one more detailed one. It is me, I can see it is me, my body, my face, my shadow of pubic hair, and my cock. My breath takes a dip as I look at the small circle of my balls, and the slim short length of my soft penis. At the window, the hint of outside. I look, aware of him looking at me, closer now. I look down past the paper, at my cock. Familiarly soft, familiarly small, a round wrinkled bobbling prong protruding from my soft pubic bush.

"Do you need a break? A drink of something?"

"Uh, maybe water?"

"Sure."

I watch him walk to his kitchen, his tight ass covered in clinging blue cotton. He returns holding a bottle of water, I look down at the shape of his soft penis, the large bending bulge hanging to the side, held almost upwards, flat, above the rounder bulge of his testicles. I feel a twinge.

"Um, if I could draw you facing the window, I know it's open, but I want to draw you from behind, if that's okay?"

I think of facing the window, of other people being able to see me.

"Sure, sure, whatever you want."

I stretch, and shake my arms, and stand in front of the window again, facing out, facing the windows opposite, my hands, as instructed, above my head, touching the frame of the window, so I am leaning out ever so gently, one foot in front of the other. My ass pushed out, my back bent in slightly, my penis pushed out.

I look at these windows, and see little. A dark shape here, a shifting curtain there. Then a passing figure. A figure who returns, and looks. And my breath drops out of my body. I see a female figure, pass then return to her window, and step back into the shadow of her room. I can still just about see her though, looking directly at me, staring, thinking, I assume, that she is unseen. I remain still. I am posing, but not for her. She can look though, the idea that she is sends a tremor of excitement through me. A new tingle of sensation. Which I try to control. I am facing out, facing her, not him, it would be bad form, illegal even, for me to stand naked at an open window and expose my erect penis.
I am motionless, she looks to be still there, then not. I am left to imagine her looking at me, committing my naked body to memory.

"Sam, you can move if you like."

I turn. The session is progressing. I am enjoying it, the return to a more normal situation.

I turn, I stretch, I bend. I look at his drawings of my back, my bare ass. This is less familiar to me. I think I look quite good, slim, tight, my ass is small and firm, my waist narrow, shoulders broad.

"They're good, I mean it, they look good."

"Thank you, you are good to draw. If I could put you in the chair? Just there, to the side, sort of, half facing me?"

"Of course. sure."

I sit for the first time, the smooth material of the chair on my bare skin. I lean back, stretch my legs out in front of me, my penis is pushed up, along with my tight scrotum, I look and see my genitals perched in a small neat package in the centre of my body.

Rob draws me again. Looking up and down, his hand moving, his pencil itching and scraping over the pad. I look at him, down, I am naked, I realise I wish he was as well.

I look at his groin again, at the soft curl of his hidden cock. I want him to be nude, with me. I sit and let the tension of thinking whether to say something build to a pleasant buzz of excitement. I say nothing. I think it, I think of his naked body. Then, absurdly, remember I have already seen it. I have permission, surely, to make a suggestion or two. I still say nothing. The moment is too delicious to want it to end. I sit, half lying back, glancing at my still soft, still small cock, at the tight wrinkled dark pouch of my scrotum, the pale pink curl of my penis.

And I look at Rob, looking, staring, sitting opposite. In nothing but his T-shirt, underwear. I gaze at the outline of his larger, thicker dick. I stare at the shape of him, the long tube of his soft stem, the oval helmet of his glans. And I see him grow, as I watch I see his penis pulse, I see a visible influx of blood into his shaft. I stare. His cock is getting hard again. My mouth becomes dry. My stomach takes several turns around itself. I watch his thick cock become thicker, I stare as it lengthens, still pushed sideways in his tight briefs, still up, away from the large rounder bulge of his scrotum, his smooth fat balls, I watch his penis swell, straighten, start to shift up. I know I will be reacting. I try not to look, I want the moment to last, the denial of sex, I look away, down at myself, my own cock has pulsed slightly, is fuller, but still soft, still small. I look at his, at Rob's covered member. It is pressing out against the thin material of his briefs, straining upwards, restricted by the tight elasticated waist. I can see again how thick his shaft is, how long, how full and plump his smooth glans.

"You know I love drawing nude."

"Nudes?"

"No, nude, I love drawing in the nude."

I look down, deliberately slowly, lingering, at the swollen protrusion of his prick.

"Are you gonna?"

He looks me in the eye, down, slowly, lingering, I sense the physical presence of his gaze on my bare body. And he stands, rests his paper and pencil on the chair, and pulls off his T-shirt, he remains upright, looking me in the eyes, and bends, and pushes down of his underwear. He lets me look at him again, at his penis, as it is caught, pulled down, released so it bounces free. He is already half erect. His thick turgid penis swings out in front of him, above his full tight smooth scrotum, exposing his large testicles, pushing, straining against their dark wrinkled pouch. Rob stands, and lets me look again at his naked body, he stares at me, as his cock rises, I see it skip up, swelling, getting longer still, thicker still, I look at the raised seam running over the middle of his smooth scrotum and up into the underside of his hardening stem, where it softens into the swollen mound rising between each rigid length of engorged tissue. He turns to pick up his paper, his pencil, I see him in profile for a second, I see the firm strong curve of his bare ass, fuck, I am staring with such desire, such fucking lust, at this nude guy, at his smooth round naked ass, his long slim legs, at the small dense tuft of dark pubic hair above his prick, at his smooth flat belly, his sculpted torso, worked on I am sure, to amazing effect, his chest broad and tight, his waist narrow. And his cock, now superbly, fucking gloriously erect, jutting up, out from his body, up from the large round bulge of his pink brown scrotum, so fucking stiff he seems to be drawing his fat testicles upwards, drawing his hairless pouch up causing his large oval, nearly egg-sized balls to stretch the retracted skin of his scrotal sac. He stands to the side, and his cock is genuinely huge. If I had forgotten I am reminded now, it rears up past his navel, like a thick pink limb rising from between his legs, from deep in his groin. His smooth pink tip showing at the tip of his stem, wider, thicker again, a smooth shiny wet bulb. He faces me, sits again, draws again, his legs apart, wide apart, offering me a look down between them, past his vertical prick, to the soft cheeks of his butt, the shadowy smooth cleft of his ass.

And I react. Immediately, and quickly, I feel myself becoming hard, sitting, remaining in my pose, sitting down. Rob sits and draws. My penis is shifting upwards, I feel myself stiffening, my cock sliding over my thigh, swelling in front of him, as he watches, as I look at him, I look at his exposed member, his wonderfully tight scrotum, his spongy pink tip, I am getting hard again, I can feel myself growing in incremental pulses of exquisite dangerous pleasure. I look at him, at his thick organ, at the swell of his long stem, the inflation of his smooth delicious bulb. We sit in front of each other, naked, letting our arousal infect the other. And I know I have become erect, seeing him undress, seeing his cock harden, looking at his smooth strong naked body, my cock has stiffened. It points up over my stomach, away from my balls. And he draws. Blood drains and fills. He is sketching quickly, I realise he is capturing me as I am, with a stiff penis. And the idea arouses me further. I sit and let him look at me, motionless, I see his hand moving his pencil, his eyes fixed on my midriff, filling his page with the image of my naked body, my hard cock. I look at myself again, still wanting to be both inside and outside myself, feeling what I am feeling, but able to see what he sees, I want to watch both of us, as me, out of me, I want to see myself and him naked, drawing and being drawn, both of us nude, and aroused, both of our penises utterly, thrillingly, dangerously erect. I want to see our relative sizes, my smaller cock, at least two inches shorter than his, both as hard as we have ever been, unyieldingly stiff, pointing out, I want to see my smaller prick, compared to his, to his thicker erection, at least half as thick, as wide as mine.

I see what I see though. I see Rob's cock quivering like a tower in the wind, as he sits and draws, I can see him hard. My cock throbs again, the electric feeling of being looked at, just, merely, but being looked at without moving, exposed, my balls tight in my round bulging scrotum and my prick jutting above me, hovering over my stomach. I feel fluid escape my tiny opening as I look at Rob getting aroused, again, because of me, my bare body, my exposed erection. He sits, and draws, and his penis swells further, it gets even bigger, I watch it pulse up, and out, thickening, straightening, rising. I see his balls pull up closer to his body, and his penis jerk into a vertical and rigid and huge column of male sex sticking up from his deep between his legs, from his ass, his groin, up past his tight flat belly.

"Your penis is erect again Sam."

"I know. Yours too."

"True, yes, do you mind if I carry on drawing you like this?"

"Like this?"

"Both of us naked, both of our cocks erect?"

"No, not really."

"I don't draw men like this very often."

"Like this?" I know what he means, I want to hear him say the words.

"Naked and aroused. I rarely draw men when their penises are hard."

"Right."

"I might include this one, I might make this into a painting, as part of the series, of you, would you like that? Would that be okay? For there to be a series of paintings of you nude, your small little cock soft in all of them bar one? A final portrait of you exposing your erect penis? Everyone able to see? Would this be okay? In a largely gay gallery? For your friends to see? You family even? And a lot of gay men, staring at your nude body, at your hard cock? Judging your size? Looking at how smooth and long and straight your stiff cock is? Would this be okay?"

I manage a breathless "Yeah, yeah, fine."

"Hmm."

"And you" I look at his swaying stiff dick. "Do you get aroused when you are drawing? Very often?"

"Uh, well, no, not really. I mean, I have drawn lovers before, once in a while a guy I am with will pose for me, nude, and, well, I have one or two pieces which feature one model sucking my cock. Part of my private collection."

"Sure, I'd like to see them."

"Hmm. I do when I draw you, get aroused I mean, I did, when you posed for the class last week, I never do in a class like that, or not often, but I did..."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me, come on, tell me."

"When I looked at you naked, when I saw your soft little cock, your tight ass, I got hard, and stayed that way, drawing you, all the time my own cock was aching, I mean, by the time we finished..."

"Yes?"

"My underwear was soaking, fuck, just soaking from all the pre-cum I had leaked, I masturbated, when I got home, after we spoke."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. Thinking about you, about your body, your cock, I imagined this, almost exactly, seeing you in my apartment, naked, and with your cock hard. I wondered how big you were."

"Okay, and?"

"I imagined you coming to my apartment, coming here, to model for me. And I thought of you letting me undress you, saying nothing, looking, I imagined taking your clothes off, piece by piece. First your shirt, being so close to your bare chest. And your shoes, seeing your feet. Undoing your trousers, your belt, your zip, pulling your trousers off. And seeing you in nothing but your underwear. And seeing the bulge of your cock. Looking. Both of us looking down and seeing that you are already hard. Your cock is bulging out. Then kneeling in front of you and pulling down your underwear, and having your semi erect cock spring outwards. Stripping you naked, and having your exposed cock rise up hard in front of me. I kneel, and watch you become completely fucking hard, watch your cock straighten, until it is thick and stiff. And pulling you into my mouth. I masturbated thinking of sucking your dick, I came as I thought of your dick growing in my mouth, filling me, tasting you, fuck, kissing your hard penis. You have such a beautiful hard cock Sam, it is not huge really, but it is more than big enough, I love men about your size, just bigger than average, straight smooth thick cocks, who are uncut, god..."

"Really, you like uncircumcised men?"

"I love intact cocks, the soft foreskin, I love the look of it, soft or hard, but I fucking love pulling it back, slowly, gently exposing his last hidden place, being hidden from it, having to get close, close enough to touch, to hold a guy's hard cock, and revealing his smooth shiny dark tip. Seeing his tight little hole. Seeing yours. Well, enough."

I say nothing, I sit, I sit naked and erect. I stare at his tumescent prick, his long thick gnarled organ. I look at him, up at his face.

"Do you like my penis"

"Well..."

This is new, this feels new, to my groin, my rigid cock, to say this, to express a liking, to say. Not merely to demonstrate.

"Sam? Do you like looking at my naked body? Do you like looking at my hard penis? Tell me what you like."

"Yes. Fuck. Yes I do."

"Right, I can see, your cock is hard again, as is mine of course. What do you like?"

"Fuck, I love looking at your large tight balls, your full round scrotum, and..."

"Tell me."

"It arouses me, it makes my cock hard to see yours, looking at yours, at how big it is, it turns me on to see that your cock is so fucking big, fuck, is larger, longer than mine, fuck, thicker, I love seeing you getting stiff, when your cock rises, when it gets thicker, longer, then when you are completely hard, fuck, like now, fuck you're so big, your cock is so hard, so fucking big and hard."

"And yet you are straight? You prefer women? Women's bodies?"

"Usually."

"You are not attracted to me, you don't want to fuck men. Yet you earlier stroked my hard penis? You held and kissed another man, you licked my anus? You kissed me, and licked me, and held my hard cock. And you came over me, you stroked your own hard penis and ejaculated over another guy as you kissed and licked his bare asshole and stroked his hard penis? You fucked another man. And are not queer?"

"I wanted to fuck you. My cock was hard because of you, because of your hard cock and naked body."

"What else do you want to do?"

My voice cracks, descends to another hoarse whisper.

"I want to feel you in my mouth, I want your cock in my mouth, I want to taste you, I want to taste your hard cock, and your cum, I want to feel you fill my mouth with your spunk, and..."

"And?"

"I want your cock inside me, I want you to fuck me."

I cannot believe I am saying this. The utterance is as erotic as the act.

"I want to fuck you. Oh god, I want to fuck another man, I want your huge hard cock, I want your body on mine, your cock on me, in me, fuck, inside my tight asshole, I want to taste you, all of you, your beautiful stiff prick, I want your beautiful big cock in my ass."

He stands, naked, his penis is rigid, thick and smooth and long, his exposed tip smooth and damp. I stay where I am and watch him walk to me, his erect penis taking tiny circular steps as he moves. And he stands by my head, his huge erection inches from my mouth, his tight fat balls pulled up underneath his stem.

And I sit up, I stare, I breathe him in, I can already taste him, I can smell his warm musky odour, I feel my penis throb and leak, staring at his large tight balls, smooth, hairless, and the thick rearing rail of his cock. God. Am I going to do this? Can I? The decision is buried under several layers of arousal. No though. I am straight, and I am naked with another man, who is also naked, and both of us have hard penises. I don't try to bury this reality. My face is inches from a man's erect cock, a man's bigger, thicker erect cock. Oh fuck. I am, I will, I want to, I have to. He doesn't touch me, I don't feel a hand on the back of my head, he just stands, inches from my face, nude, erect. Enormous. I reach over and touch his penis, I fold my fingers around his hot hard thick shaft, stroking, touching him, grazing his hot hard rigid stem before opening my lips and pulling his naked glans into my mouth. I take a man's penis into my mouth, I taste another guy's cock, I feel his heat, the spongy smoothness of his glans, I curl my tongue around his swollen bulb, aware of a slick sweet wetness, which causes another explosion of pleasure to erupt within me, that I am tasting a man's pre-ejaculate as it seeps from the end of his erect penis, I slide my wet lips further along his thick shaft, and feel this in my mouth, his glans against my tongue, filling me, his large penis stretches my mouth, I have to stretch my lips wide to fit in his large moist oval plum, I breathe in through my nose as I move my free hand first to his naked ass, to stroke, to rub, to grip and hold, pulling him into me, then to his scrotum, so I can touch him there. I pinch and pull his tender smooth skin, and roll his fat testicles, stroking, pushing a finger against the hidden root of his member, touching his slick damp perineum. And sliding my moist lips up and down his aching rigid hot dick.

I think the thought: I am sucking his cock. I have a man's hard cock between my lips. I am performing fellatio. Tautology restrains me from adding the masculine article. I have Rob's large erect penis in my mouth. I can feel the tiny solid ridges along his thick stem, I can smell the strong ferominic scent of his balls, his sweat, his musky secretions. The size and heat and taste of his hard prick is making my cock throb and pulse. I close my lips over his tender oval plum and squeeze his corona with my mouth, I tease his tip with my tongue, running it around his sensitive area, flicking gently, my lips are wet with saliva and the seeping fluid from Rob's aroused dick, I slide my mouth over his tender glans, I think of what I like, of what feels good to me, then find I don't have to think at all, it feels both natural and churningly forbidden to have a male sex organ in my mouth, to taste it, to kiss a man's engorged tip, to feel his thick gnarled stem slide against my lips. I lower my mouth as far as I can manage, his fat helmet touches the back of my mouth, his thick shaft pushes my lips wider. I pull back, hold his tender bulb in the warm wet embrace of my soft entrance.

"Oh fuck, fuck Sam that feels fucking amazing. Oh, oh fuck, oh, oh let me taste you, oh god, I want your cock in my mouth, oh, let me suck your beautiful hard cock... oh, oh Sam"

I push him, pull my head back and stand up, we face each other, and press our naked bodies together. We kiss. I feel his hands on my naked ass, and rove over his with mine. Our penises rub and stroke. We writhe against each other, my thigh pushes between his and pushes against his full cool scrotum and the rigid swollen root of his prick. He pulls me onto him, harder against him, I can feel him rubbing his body on mine, we stroke ourselves with ourselves.

I step back, he is unfocused with desire. I am breathless with the stuff. Both of us naked, both of us superbly and completely erect. His cock thrillingly bigger than mine.

I say nothing. I walk back to his bedroom, he follows, we face each other again at the foot of his bed and he pushes me onto it, I lay back and pull him on top of me, over me, his legs between mine, his penis stroking mine. I reach for his bare ass, I part his tight smooth cheeks and graze a finger over his soft damp cleft, feeling the tight coil of his anus. And I let my lust control me, I push him over and start kissing my way up his long legs, between his thighs, licking his bare bald scrotum, pushing his legs apart and reaching with my tongue for the soft smooth skin of his asshole, and moving my hips up to his mouth, shifting around, pulling him onto his side, I grip the warm rigid core of his velvety covered prick and pull him back into my mouth, I open my lips and let his smooth fat glans fill me, I curl my soft moist tongue over his swollen wet bulb as I feel his long fingers on my ass, on my stiff penis, feeling my foreskin pulled back, seconds pass, I feel him kiss my exposed tip, I feel his lips on my swollen slippery glans, and then I feel my erect penis smothered in warmth and moist soft flesh. I strain to see him opening his mouth and taking my cock inside his mouth. And this thought forces me to control the physical pleasure rising within me: I am in a sixty-nine with another man: I am naked with another guy and we are sucking each other's hard penises. We have each other's stiff cocks in our mouths, our naked asses in our hands. I push and probe and touch his asshole. And feel Rob pulling my buttocks apart. I feel him letting my cock slip from his mouth. Oh fuck. Oh god. Will he? Can he? No-one ever has, I realise, no-one has ever licked me there, I have never felt someone's lips or tongue on my asshole.

And then I do. I feel his fingers open myself up to him, then his breath on my soft skin, then his lips, I feel him first kissing the soft tender skin of my perineum, I am frozen with desire and anticipation, and then I feel his lips touching my asshole, kissing me there, his tongue flicking out, running over the smooth skin of my ass, pushing, I can do nothing but grip his bare ass and hold his cock in my mouth, almost motionless, his large smooth glans fills me, the heat and seeping sweet moisture covers my tongue as I feel his pressing against my anus, slurping, slathering my tight opening, I lose control of his cock. I moan for a while, holding his hard penis, spreading my legs, spasms of pleasure threading through my body as he tongues my virgin bud.
I pull his hard prick back into my mouth, devouring it, sliding my moistened lips along his thick stem, as low as I can go, then lower again, I fill my mouth with Rob's large penis, licking the underside of his large stem, gripping him hard, pushing a finger against his asshole, rubbing him there as I slide my mouth over his moist glans, I finger his tight smooth asshole as he continues to rub his wet probing tongue over my own. I copy his movements, carrying them to his tender tip, closing my lips over his swollen bulb, swirling my tongue over him, under him, and pushing my finger past the resisting barrier of his sphincter, I feel his cock jump and pulse in my mouth as I penetrate his asshole, fuck, his cock swells, it stretches my lips wider, it heats up, I feel his tongue move harder over my sensitive soft perineum, his hands grip my legs harder, hold my bare ass as I finger his tight asshole, as I enter him, feeling the delicious tube of tissue close around my finger, feeling the hot moist soft flesh of his rectum.

I hear him moan, and tighten, and his hand, his fingers are around my cock again, I slide my forefinger in and out of his ass, and circle his tender tip with my tongue, pushing my mouth back and for.

And he moves, he pushes me onto my back and lowers himself between my legs, our penises again rub together, he holds my legs and spreads them wide apart. My cock throbs and trembles. Can I let him do this? Am I willing, am I able to have him do this to me? He looks me in the eyes, down at my swollen aching cock, I look, at his towering thick organ. He kneels and reaches and drops a couple of things on the bed next to him, he stares at me, at my aching cock and spread legs, I look at his huge vertical cock, I watch him tear the foil wrapper of a condom and pull out a slippery oval of clear latex, I am not sure I would have had the control to insist he use one, this new sight though, this fresh piece of visual information, and what it means, cases further tremblings of anticipation, of sweetly dangerous arousal.

I watch Rob squeeze the tip of the condom, place the rolled up circle of it over his thick swollen bulb and start to roll it down the stem of his large stiff cock. I stare, I let my thoughts reverberate through me: he is putting a condom over his cock, a man is rolling a condom over his erect penis so he can put it in my arse, so he can slide his stiff cock inside my ass, so we can fuck. He, he is putting a condom on, so he can fuck me in the ass, so he can fuck my tender tight virgin asshole. He squeezes a palmful of clear viscous fluid over his hand, I watch as he strokes his stiff prick, slowly, deliberately, letting me watch him cover his huge rearing dick with lube, he looks down at himself, at me, his cock shine and shimmers, I stare with shameless lust as he moistens his long hard dick, I stare at his hand, his fingers, stroking himself, rubbing his fat tip, smoothing KY up and down his thick rigid shaft.

I realise I am trembling with nervous excitement, breathing heavily, I can't move, I can't speak, my legs are pushed apart, my cock hovers with unprecedented hardness over my belly. I watch, I stare as Rob lubricates his huge thick rigid dick. And moves a hand between my legs, over my tight tender scrotum, lower, pressing his moist fingers over the hidden root of my penis, and between the smooth cheeks of my ass, and I feel him, finally, I feel his probing fingers touch my anus, I open myself wider and feel this strange beautiful man push his slippery finger against my asshole, my eyes close involuntarily, I open them, I want to see, he is staring at my prick, my tight balls, and his hand, he is kneeling upright, with one set of fingers stroking his stiff cock the other delving over my tight virgin ass. He pushes harder, fuck, I feel the tip of her finger penetrate my anus, I feel my tight sphincter close around him.

I stare, w