Monday, September 26, 2011

A Tabled Affair part three

Happy Story Orgy Monday! Are you ready for part three of A Tabled Affair? Last week, the end of Damian's visit with Mauricio (hmm…I mean massage) was interrupted a teeny bit by Danny the receptionist. Let's see what happens…c'mon…I'll go with you. We can hop over to the other Story Orgy writers' blogs together. Let's go.

A Tabled Affair part 3

Without so much as a flinch, Mauricio sighed and looked toward the door. "Danny, Mr. Sadan and I will be finished here soon. Close the door."

"Fine. You're ten minutes late for the next appointment and your food got cold." Danny left the room, shutting the door with a loud click.

"Don't worry about him. He's always uptight." Mauricio's fingers combed through Damian's hair.
"Maybe you should give him a massage then. He looks like he needs it." Damian's chuckle was cut short by another tap at the door.

Mauricio tamped down his impatience, reached into the steamer and tossed Damian a hot steam towel followed by a dry cloth. "Yeah, Danny. What now?"

"Your appointment left. She had another place to be in an hour." Danny's agitated voice drowned out the tranquility sounds still filtering through the air.

"Send her an apologetic email for my tardiness. You can go home once you're done."

"You got it, Boss. Grab your food off the desk. I don't want to smell come Monday morning." Danny retorted.

Turning off the music, Mauricio cocked his head to the side. He winked at Damian, keeping his voice buttery soft, pulling out all the stops to be seductive and smooth. "Can you spend the weekend with me?"

"Hell yeah! You bet I can." Damian jumped up, wiping himself down with the moist towel.

"Great. You still remember where I live? Take care of your business and swing by my place tonight." Mauricio planted a big wet kiss on Damian, catching him off guard.

He's so sweet.

Mauricio watched Damian dress with swift, practiced motions. By the time Damian's eyes refocused, they were both fully dressed and Mauricio stood before him smiling. "Welcome back."

Damian grinned. "Now that I'm back, I must be going."

"I'll see you in a while. Grab a business card off the front desk if you need my new number." Mauricio shouted as Damian sprinted down the hall away from him.


A day and a half had passed and no sign of Damian. Not even a phone call or a text. Mauricio was furious. He spent the entire weekend worried. He was either propped up in his bay window or pacing the floors of his uptown home.

"What the fuck!" Mauricio roared, filling the house with his anguish.


"Aww. I'm sorry, Sugar." Mauricio scooped up his white fluffy feline friend and shared some loving. 
He gently rubbed under her chin and scratched behind her ears until the sound of tires squalling out front interrupted the peaceful moment. 

Sugar leapt from Mauricio's arms, leaving claw marks on the tender sides of his forearms. 

"Son of a bitch! What the fuck was that all about?" Mauricio stalked to the living room bay window, Sugar meowed and followed in his wake. He swiped the curtains aside, letting in the bright afternoon sun. Huh. The mailbox is open. I wonder what that's about.

Damian jammed his feet into his shoes and stalked out onto the front porch. He waved to his neighbor across the way, the neighborly thing to do he supposed. "Do you have any idea what all that commotion was about?" Mauricio did his best to disguise the built up irritation from a weekend of disappointment.    

The blue-haired old lady kindly waved back then used her hand as a visor to block the sun as she used her free hand to simply point at Mauricio's mailbox. He walked down his drive and up the sidewalk, careful not to step on the luscious St. Augustine grass that spread across his lawn like carpet. Another glance across the street then back and he was next to his mailbox. He bent over to peer inside.

What the hell is this? 

It was Sunday, and there shouldn't have been a letter in the mailbox, but there it was. No postage. Just three words graced the front of the envelope.

 My dearest Mauricio.

Mauricio carried the letter back inside. He laid it on the table where he sat and stared for what felt like an hour. Finally, he decided to open it. The contents read:


I'm sorry I let you down, but I had some things come up.
Please forgive me.

Shine on,


The longer Mauricio stared at the scrawled writing the blurrier they became. He swiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand, not the least bit surprised when it came away damp. His hands began to tremble and he dropped the note to the table. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to ignore the hurt of his heart breaking.

Mauricio took a deep breath, then stood. Tea. Tea would be good. He moved through the motions, his body on autopilot as his mind skipped amongst all the suggestions for why Damian didn’t show. When none of them seemed good enough, Mauricio dumped his drink down the sink. “Screw him.”


What the hell? Damian better get his act together if he plans on getting another one of them fantastic Maurisages *giggles*. I wonder what happened to him? We'll find out next week I guess. Let's go see what's going on in the other blogs. I'm a wee bit curious. Well, okay, a whole lot curious *ahem*. C'mon…

Monday, September 19, 2011

A Tabled Affair part two (NSFW)

"It is what you read when you don't have to that determines what you will be when you can't help it." *Sigh* Oscar Wilde is simply remarkable, isn't he?

Hello, Story Orgy admirers. Happy Monday! I trust you all have had a pleasant weekend. Are you ready for part two of A Tabled Affair? I sure hope so because Damian and Mauricio are ready for you...I mean Damian is ready for Mauricio. Dammit! I mean Damian is ready for a massage. Oh hell, c'mon…follow me. I'll show you what I mean…

A Tabled Affair part 2

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­A devilish grin transformed Mauricio's friendly features into mischievous expression. The tension in the room melted away and a smoldering hunger filled the air. Damian's desire set his skin on fire.

Damian relaxed his smile, parting his lips and reducing his pitch to a sexy bedroom tone. "Let the massage begin." Then rolled on his shoulder, tipped his head, and stretched his neck toward Mauricio's erection, gliding his tongue over the tip then slipping his lips over the swollen head. Relishing in the light moan from the sexy masseur, Damian welcomed Mauricio deeper into his hungry mouth. With a single slow step, Mauricio's cock glided over Damian's tongue and pushed into his throat.

Mauricio groaned and pressed on. Damian's throat widened to accommodate the man he'd yearned for every night over the previous six months. As Mauricio began to pump his hips, Damian's cock contracted, leaking pre-cum from what seemed like a lifetime of waiting.

It just hadn't felt right, being with anyone else, touching himself, without Mauricio there to guide him.

Damian swallowed several times while he stroked Mauricio's cock with the depths of his throat, pulling a deep growl from his lover. With a hand on Mauricio's thigh, Damian felt his muscles flex as Mauricio pulled his dick away from the grips of Damian's throat.

"Oh God, how I missed you." Mauricio cupped Damian's face in the clutches of his skilled hands.

"Show me." Damian's breathy tone mingled with Mauricio's lingering sigh and the soft nature sounds that drifted from the a little radio Mauricio played during his sessions.

Mauricio gave a deep kiss, leaving Damian with a sweet taste of hot jasmine tea and honey in his mouth.

"Roll over. It's time for your massage." Mauricio instructed.

Mauricio's hands slid smoothly across Damian's skin, tantalizing Damian's senses as he turned to his stomach. He loved Mauricio's gentle touch and remembered the love between them during their last encounter.

"Your touch is so, so–"

"Shh. Just relax." Mauricio's soothing tone could calm gale force winds. 

Damian's body went limp under Mauricio's kneading hands. With the exception of his throbbing cock pinned to the cushioned table beneath his weight. But Mauricio must have been aware of that too. It didn't take long for Mauricio's hands to work their way down Damian's back to his ass cheeks, squeezing and rubbing along the way.

"Raise up a little." Mauricio's hand supported Damian with a gentle lift of his balls. When he was far enough off the table, Mauricio shifted Damian's cock and pulled it down between his legs.

"You're very stiff, is that comfortable?" Mauricio's teasing made Damian's heart beat faster. The restrictive position escalated Damian's anticipation and caused his dick to pulse, shifting against the pliable cushion. Damian's words lodged in his throat, but he managed to muster up a long deep groan.

Mauricio's hands moved in sync with his choppy words, his knuckles tenderized the deep tissues of Damian's ass. "I'll. Take. That. As. A. Yes."

Oh yes. Yes. Yes. The words formed in Damian's head, but the pleasure was so great he couldn't get them out; until the dribbles of liquid trickled down his spine then between his ass cheeks.

Mauricio's hands worked their magic up and down Damian's back, plying deep into his muscles. Damian's body lay limp and his mind fixed on what was to come. The massage was just getting started.

Fingers slipped into the crack of Damian's ass and the soothing warmth of soft palms caressed his fleshy mounds, gliding at a snail's pace over his oil-slickened skin. A few slow strokes relaxed Damian some more. Damian's asshole twitched with the passing of Mauricio's well-practiced fingers, opening a little more each time.

"Yeah, Babe. You're loosening up nicely. A bit tighter than the last time I remember though." Mauricio's words floated on the air, blending with the waterfall sounds that poured from the speaker.

Damian instinctively arched his back a little, trying to satiate his wanton needs. Raising his ass to meet Mauricio's exploring fingers, Damian's hole pressed firmly against the broad fingertip that stiffened in the midst of the touch.

"You want that, don't you?" Mauricio's finger sank into Damian's willing hole.

The burn was just what Damian wanted as he stretched around the first knuckle. "I need it. Please. More." Damian managed to produce a low growl. He exercised his sphincter muscles, gripping and working at the finger buried knuckle deep.          

A second finger broke through the tight ring of muscle, sliding along the other. The Mauricio's two fingers stroked deeper and deeper, scissoring in and out of Damian's hole, hauling low, rumbling groans from deep within his diaphragm. After a few trips in and out, Mauricio's fingers glided over Damian's gland with ease. Damian raised his ass up high, rocking back onto his knees until all his weight rested on his chest.

"That feels so good. God…yes! Fuck my hole." Damian's hips gyrated on Mauricio's fat fingers. Damian worked his ass around in circles. Mauricio's fingers followed the pattern perfectly, pressing and rubbing on Damian's gland.

"Lube." Damian's face pressed into the tabletop, distorting his words. But the hand he had outstretched behind him quickly filled with oil.

"Such a sweet ass." Mauricio's bluntness only boosted Damian's esteem. Set his raging hormones on fire.

Damian worked the oil onto his dick, stroking slow then fast, gripping then slipping. Damian twisted his hand in a corkscrew motion, fucking his fist as Mauricio's fingers massaged his insides.

"I can feel you swelling. Are you ready to come?" Mauricio's voice was breathy, passionate.

"I'm coming now. Right now." Damian's hips jerked uncontrollably, his prick pulsing, releasing his load. Damian's growled on a wave of pleasure, his ass squeezing the slick fingers as Mauricio pulled them from the gripping hole.

Mauricio braced one hand under Damian's abdomen and eased him to the table. Right into the puddle of cum. Damian turned his head to one side and was once again face-to-face with Mauricio's bobbing cock. Damian reached out and curled his arm around Mauricio's midsection, pulling him close.

"It looks like you could use a massage too." Damian's tongue flicked the tip of Mauricio's dick, scooping the pre-cum from the tip.

Tap. Tap.

The door opened slowly. "How is it I'm the only one here who thinks this is a bad idea?"


See? I told you Damian was ready. And Mauricio is ready now *grin*.

Do you wonder what my fellow orgiasts came up with this week? Well, that makes two of us! C'mon, keep following me. We will find out together…*click*.

Monday, September 12, 2011

A Tabled Affair

Happy Monday, Folks! I hope you had an enjoyable weekend and are all rested up for the workweek. I am gearing up for finals week in my Management class. Meh, that's boring information though. I have more exciting things to talk about than a Masters Program and college coursework. Yuck!

How about this…are you ready? Really really read? Story Orgy's Lee Brazil has created a Facebook page for his Truth or Dare series. Yay! I'm stoked. Head on over and "Like" the page. You don't even have to wait in line.

And now for this week's prompt story. Since I wrapped up a 6-part story last week, I am beginning a new tale. This week's prompt story is titled A Tabled Affair and includes three prompt terms – sweat, police station interrogation room, and masseur. I hope you like it and the scrumptious picture selected by Jade Basier. *Sigh* She's the bomb-diggity!

When we finish this story, we'll hop on over to the other orgiasts's blogs and see how they were inspired by the prompt terms. Just hold my hand and we can go together. And now, I'm going to put it on the table for you. C'mon…let's go…

A Tabled Affair

Damian never claimed to be perfect, but he knew he never wanted to make the same mistakes. He always said that if he was going to make a mistake, it would be a brand new one. Not a repeat of a time before.

Sitting in a room full of ugly ass mother fuckers is not my idea of a good time. Every two weeks I have to–

"Damian Sadan."

Damian stood, taking off his ball cap. As he turned to walk in the direction from which the voice came. I better just keep my mouth shut.  "Well it's about time. I've been waiting for over an hour."

Dammit! Why couldn't he show some restraint?

"You put yourself here." The lady in the doorway narrowed her eyes. "I didn't." The graying pompadour held its shape as she shook her head, in irritation, all but one curly strand which fell loose to one side.

Damian's hand gesture resembled that of a crosswalk guard.  "Whoa. I'm sorry Ms. Feagley."

"Damn straight you're sorry. Now, come on. Let's get this done. It's past my lunchtime."

Ms. Feagley led Damian down the hall to her office, peering at him over her glasses with beady eyes. 
She raised her brows so high Damian thought they might disappear into her hair. "You know the drill."

"Yes ma'am." Damian sat in the chair nearest the door, studying his probation officer from across her desk.

She sat down gracefully, folded her hands on the desk, and then stared in silence.

Oh shit. This can't be good.

Ms. Feagley exuded more confidence and strength than anyone Damian had ever seen, with the exception of his mother. And that's exactly who Ms. Feagley reminded him of.

Unwillingly, Damian's mind drifted back to his childhood, a time when his mother was still alive and fighting for her life. "Fucking cancer." Damian mumbled.

"Excuse me?" Ms. Feagley snapped back.

"Nothing. I'm sorry." Damian felt red-hot heat wash over his face.

"Why are you here, Mr. Sadan?" The same beady eyes held Damian's attention.

"I'm on Probation. This is my last visit."

Ms. Feagley's jaws clenched and Damian thought lasers would shoot from her eyes at any moment. Then she continued, short and choppy. "On probation. For. What?"

Damian fidgeted with the seam on the pant leg of his blue jeans a little, then with the back of his hand he wiped the sweat that had trickled to his brow. "Possession of marijuana."

Ms. Feagley's jaws continued to work overtime as her stare intensified, causing Damian to slump down in his chair. But he didn't take his eyes off of her. The last time he did that she hit her keyboard and the keys flew everywhere.

Ms. Feagley lightly tapped her pencil on her notepad, glanced at her folder, and then back at her notepad. "Go on."

"Ms. Feagley, I've been really good. And I don't–"


Ms. Feagley's hand fell heavy to her desk. "You don't listen very well. That's what you don't do."

With one swift motion, Ms. Feagley removed her glasses, stood, and sat on the edge of her desk. With the earpiece of her glasses in the corner of her mouth and her squinty eyes glaring just a foot away from Damian's, all Damian could do was sit there, caught like a deer in headlights.

What. The. Fuck. Is this lady doing?

"Damian, do you remember the story you told me the first day you walked into my office?"

"Yes ma'am. I'll never forget that story either. I was in the police station after my arrest. They had me in the interrogation room and scared the living daylights outta me."

A smile crept across Ms. Feagley's face. The tenacity in her voice gave way to the gentlest tone. Once again, Ms. Feagley reminded Damian of his mother, how she was just days before she passed away. "Mr. Sadan. You're free to go. If you feel like you're forgetting your story, give me a call. I'll remind you." Then with a widening smile, she extended her hand with a business card wedged between her fingers.

Tears welled up in Damian's eyes when he reached out for the business card. For the first time, he felt the love in that woman's heart. And the touch of her hand was as soft as silk.

Ms. Feagley gave a gentle squeeze and said, "Go, Damian. And be good."  She released Damian's hand, stood and turned. But not before a tear fell from her eye.

Damian's words hung in his throat. He stood to leave and mouthed, Thank you. Putting on his ball cap, he quickly turned and left.


Damian rubbed his hands together as a mischievous smile crept across his face, his eyes widened with anticipation. He pulled the handle on the tinted glass door and entered.

"Good afternoon, Sir. Sign in and I'll be right with you." The handsome young man with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes glanced up and continued to type, his finger strokes smooth and deliberate.

"I have a 3 o'clock appointment." Damian signed the sheet on the clipboard and sat in the corner next to the window and a gorgeous fiddle-leaf ficus.

After some time of flipping through magazines, Damian looked at his watch. What the hell. It's 3:15. He walked up to the counter, tapped his finger on the sign-in sheet. "Excuse me…" Damian paused to read the name tag "Danny, I had an appointment at 3 o'clock. It's now 3:15."

"Ah yes. I haven't forgotten you…" Danny stopped to look at the sign in sheet. "Damian. But my records show that Mauricio's 3 o'clock appointment is for a Mr. Swingtime. I was simply giving him time to arrive before giving up on him."

Damian smacked his forehead and chuckled. Of course! Dammit.

Danny's bewildered expression was almost enough to embarrass Damian, but not quite.

"Danny, I'm sorry. Apparently, the mix up is entirely my fault. You see, I'm Mr. Swingtime." Damian thumped his chest lightly with the palm of his hand. "I wanted to surprise Mauricio." 

"Oh really." Danny's brows knitted together as his eyes narrowed.

Oh shit. He's none too happy. 

"Danny, if my 3 o'clock didn't show, I'm going to run and grab a bite to eat. Do you want anything?" A man's voice bellowed from the hallway.

"Actually Mr. Morisey, you have a client here to see you now." Danny quickly replied, but his intent stare never wavered. "Mr. Morisey will see you now. First room on the right." Danny's icy gaze could cut Damian down as he pointed over his shoulder with his pencil.

"Don't worry about lunch, Mr. Morisey. I'll order you the usual." Danny's tone carried an unyielding spirit.    

"No onions please. Thanks."

The voices flew past Damian from either direction as he proceeded down the hall. He stopped just outside the first door he came to. Mauricio Morisey, Maurice. No…Maury.

"Have you sent­–"

"Mauricio Morisey. How the hell have you been?" Damian stepped into the doorway, catching Mauricio off guard.

"Never mind, Danny! He's here." Mauricio's voice lowered to a whisper. "Damian, what the fuck are you doing here?" He waved his hand as his face scrunched with confusion, motioning for Damian to close the door.   

Damian eased the door shut behind him and walked to the massage table in the middle of the room. Mauricio sat on his rolling stool, wide-eyed. ­

Damian hopped up on the cushioned table and lay back with his hands behind his head. "What's wrong? Didn't you miss me, Maury? And why are you asking me why I'm here? You're a masseur, aren't you?"

"I know that look, Damian. And you're up to something." Mauricio's voice cracked.

 "C'mon. What's wrong? I've missed you. It's been six months." Damian brought his arms down to his side and propped up on his elbows. "I've waited patiently to see you again."

"Six months? Already?" Understanding dawned on Mauricio's face. "Holy shit! That went by fast."

"Yeah, maybe for you. You weren't the one on probation." Damian chuckled. "So, did you miss me?"0

Mauricio stood and walked to Damian's side. He turned Damian's ball cap around backwards. "Hell yeah I missed you. You just scared the hell out of me though. I didn't want you to get in trouble for violating probation."

Damian recalled the agreement he had made with Mauricio at the time of his court order for probation. Since Mauricio was considered a known criminal due to a high school vandalism prank as a teenager, the risk of associating with him seemed irresponsible. Especially for a measly six months.

Damian took his cap off and handed it to Mauricio. "Set this on the counter?" He tipped his head and waved his capped, motioning to the nearest wall.

Mauricio grinned from ear to ear. He didn't set the cap on the counter as he was asked. He gently flung it, never leaving Damian's side.

"Yeah. You know what time it is, doncha?"

Mauricio put one hand on Damian's chest, pushing him to the flat of his back. With his other hand, he groped his own crotch. "I do know what time it is. The question is, do you?"

Mauricio rubbed his cock through the fabric of his lightweight scrubs. Damian's head rested on the table, giving him a perfect eye-level view of the swelling prick he'd waited six long months to taste, to feel again. Damian watched as Mauricio looped his thumb into the drawstrings, untying them with ease.

Desire rushed through Damian and suddenly he couldn’t undress quick enough. Within seconds, Damian was completely naked and his face was inches away from Mauricio’s full erection.

"Is this what you've been missing?"


Hmmm…I wonder what kind of massage Damian is going to get. Next week should prove to be quite interesting, huh? C'mon…the fun's not over yet. Hold my hand and we'll cyber jump to the other blogs and see what goodies the fellow orgiasts' came up with this week!

Monday, September 5, 2011

Story Orgy Monday - Sweet Meet part 6 (NSFW)

            Happy Labor Day, my friends! I hope you all are having a fantastically safe holiday weekend. Many thanks are extended to all workers for their economic and social contributions.

            I know you are probably extremely busy with your family; so, I will keep the intro short and sweet. Be safe and don't forget to check out my fellow orgiasts' blogs for the week. You'll be glad you did.

            And now for the big news, are you ready? Wait. Maybe you didn't hear me. I said *cups hands and asks a little louder*, "Are you ready?" LOL…I'm just kidding. But really, I have some very exciting news to share with you about Story Orgy's very own Hank Edwards. Yep, he's done it again! Book 1 of his series "Venom Valley" has finally been released! Bounty {ßclick there} is a must have! Hop on over to You will not…I repeat… WILL NOT be disappointed.  

            Okay. Whew! Moving right along. This week's Story Orgy prompt is based on a fabulous picture selected by SO's master of illustrations, Jade Basier. Just look at that hunk o' manly lovin' (with huge wood I might add). Yowser! Sit back and enjoy my story as the picture inspired me and my boys to finally work out some tension.

            On your mark…

                                    Get set…


Man Meet part six

            Oscar rolled over, looping one arm under his pillow. Caught somewhere between reality and dreaming, he extended his arm, searching for the warmth he craved. But it wasn't there. Oscar felt his blood run cold. Icy emotion crawled over his skin as his dread chased away the passion from beneath the covers that once soothed him.

            I hope he's not mad about my outburst. Or his teapot. Or his mother. Oscar buried his head into the pillow. Scenes from the night before played over and over again in his mind. He should not have let the mention of Sergio's name steal his happiness. Besides, Sergio had done nothing wrong. Except act like a dickhead. Oh, what have I done? I've never been a drama queen before now.

            Oscar raised his head and looked around the room, listening to the buzzing and grinding noises drifting through the walls. What in the world? Oscar rolled out of bed and grabbed a towel from the chair next to the nightstand. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he headed down the hall. Oscar stopped and held his ear to the garage door.

            He secured the towel with an extra roll and tuck of a corner. Slowly turning the knob then giving it a small push, Oscar eased the door open just a bit, barely enough to see inside. The smell of sawdust was intoxicating, but not as captivating as the view. Elias's deep copper skin glistened and sweat trickled through the furrows of his rippling abs, dissecting his stomach into a framework of rigid muscles.

            Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! He's even sexier than I remember. Something about power tools, sweat, and sawdust sent Oscar over the edge. He released the knob and nudged the door open wider. "Don't just stand there, Handsome." Elias took his safety glasses off and laid them on the table saw. "The house will get all hot and dusty. Close the door."

            Oscar closed the door, but he didn't enter the workshop. He stayed in the hallway, shaking his head. Why am I so nervous? Is this what love is?

            "Oscar. Dammit. Oscar! Come back!"

            The muffled shout from inside only fueled Oscar's angst. Fighting his unease, Oscar opened the door and entered, avoiding eye contact with Elias. He quickly turned to the door and closed it, taking far too long to make sure it was done properly.

            "Oscar? What's wrong, Sweetie? Why are you acting like a puppy who chewed up my slipper?"

            The shuffling feet and nearness of Elias's voice told Oscar how close Elias had moved in just a few moments. Now Elias was a mere few feet behind him. Oscar turned, pressing his back to the door. And there he was. The man Oscar fell head over heels for was an inch from his face.    

            Oh God. Now I remember why I fell in love—

            One second Oscar stood afraid, the next he was tongue deep in a passionate kiss from Elias. In that single moment, Oscar's dilemma disappeared. The earthy scent of sawdust joined forces with Elias's natural masculine spice to create a perfect concoction. The fragrance teased Oscar's senses, caused his cock to wrestle with the cumbersome fabric which lay so heavily against it.
            "Words are useless at a time like this. Make love to me, Oscar." The words rang true in Oscar's heart. The breathy whispers raised bumps along his skin.

            Oscar lightly traced Elias's lips with his tongue then chuckled. "You're right. Why talk?" He dropped a hand to Oscar's towel and gave it a hard tug.

            It disappeared and Oscar frankly didn't care where it went. It was Elias's towel, after all.

            Autopilot engaged when Elias's blue jeans brushed against the tender ridge around the head of Oscar's cock. The warm humid air joined Oscar's rising temperature to form a layer of moisture on his skin and the cooling sensation guided him right to Elias's chest, tasting his salty sweat. Tweaking a nipple with one hand, Oscar flicked his tongue and sucked on the other. Oscar blew softly, watching the soft skin contract to a stiffened nub before he moved to the one being worked between his fingers.

            "Oh, sweet Oscar. You do have a magic touch." Elias's words rolled on the heavy air, a sign that Oscar was pleasing his man.

            Oscar worked his way down Elias's ripped abs, leaving a trail of saliva from one nipple to the navel.

            "Mmmm…that's nice." Elias's breathy approval reminded Oscar of his own simple pleasures.

            Oscar's sweat cooled with the air, strengthening his understanding of Elias's satisfaction. You think that's nice, just wait. He twisted and twirled his tongue in and around the small rounded hollow of Elias's stomach, smoothing out the hair trailing up from the briefs peeking through the flaps of his unfastened pants.

            Sliding further down the door, Oscar tugged at the waistband of the briefs with his teeth as his hands worked the pants over Elias's plump ass and down his legs.

            "Damn. Holy fuck, babe." Elias's inflection went from high to low. "We've got to get this show on the road. I need you now."

            Elias hooked one arm under Oscar's, pulling him up to his feet. Elias stepped out of his pants and toed them to the side as he squirmed out of his briefs.

            With heated passion Oscar pressed into Elias, meshing his sweaty skin with his lover's.

            "Oh. My. God. Come on, baby. There's no stopping us this time." Elias locked his lips with Oscar's and turned them around.

            Oscar walked backwards. His eyes closed he breathed in the very life Elias gave him. One breath. One step at a time. 

            "You're going to fuck me. Hard." Elias spun on his heels to the work bench beside them. "I've been up since five. Out here thinking about you."

            "But, don't you want to fuck m—"

            "Shhhh. No need to talk, remember?" Elias lifted the seat of a wooden workbench. "This is all we need."

            Oscar watched as Elias's hand disappeared into the nook of the bench. As his hand re-emerged holding a bottle of lube, Elias's tone was direct, firm. "I like it good and hard."

            Oscar was prepared to be on the receiving end, but at this point he really didn't care. His hard on ached for attention and was ready to give Elias exactly what he asked for. A hard fuck.

            Oscar has always believed in the Golden Rule and now was his chance to shine. I'm gonna do what I would want done to me.

            "Turn around, put your knees on the bench." Elias grabbed some shop towels from the nearby table saw and tossed them to Oscar. "We don't want to hurt those pretty knees of yours."

            Elias took his place on the bench, knees planted in the seat and overlooking his workshop. "Show me what you're made of, Babe. It's a new day and I need you in every w–"


            Oscar's hand struck across Elias's left ass cheek with a wallop, drawing a whimper from his lover. Without a slightest pause, Oscar gave the other ass cheek the same.


            "Oh yes. What a beautiful ass! Remind me again why I haven't had it yet." Elias massaged the red handprints he'd made.

            "We decided not to–"


            "No words, remember?" Oscar's fingers buried deep into tissue of the soft globes in front of him. Rubbing each one, kneading Elias's ass like bread dough.

            "Oh…God yes!" Elias stifled his moan with a bite to his finger.

            I could get used to this. Oscar's fondness for Elias fused with the built up tension from the night before.

            "You said you're ready? Let's see." Oscar turned the bottle of lube up, dribbling the contents into the crack of Elias's beautiful red ass. Hooking his between Elias's legs, Oscar cupped the low hang balls and tenderly rolled them around. His thumb worked circles around Elias's asshole.

            "Fuck…fuck…yeah, babe." Elias's moans grew louder.

            "Are you talking again? What did we say about that?" Oscar pressed his slick thumb into Elias's puckered ass, gently working his balls.

            The garage filled with Elias's whimpers and moans as Oscar worked his thumb in and out of the tight ass. Kneading and biting the red-hot ass cheek closest to his face, drawing louder groans from his demanding partner.

            "Fuck me. Yes!"

            With another bite to Elias's ass cheek, Oscar straightened up and leaned into Elias. Rocking to and fro, Oscar coated his prick with the lube in Elias's ass crack. Oscar slipped is cock back and forth, teasing the wanting hole. With each passing, Elias's asshole twitched. Oscar pressed harder and harder until he felt the ring of muscle stretch around the mushroomed head of his cock.

            "Holy fuck! God." Elias's cry of pleasure echoed off the concrete floor and sheetrock walls. Elias reached out in front of him and gripped a stalk of 4X4 timber.

            "That's right. You'll want to hang on now." With a solid thrust, Oscar plowed his dick in to the hilt. "Oh fuck yeah. That's nice, such a sweet ass."

            "Ungh! Oh. Damn." Elias's voice choppy, his words labored.  

            Oscar worked in and out, pistoning his throbbing cock with a steady driving force. "Is this what you wanted? Am I doing it the way you like?" Oscar's tone stern, challenging.
             "Yes. This is exactly what I needed. Give me the lube. I can't last long like this." Elias reached back with one hand for the bottle.

            Oscar slowed his strokes. "Here. Cup your hand. You'll need to keep holding on with the other." He flicked the cap open, drizzled lube into the palm of Elias's hand, and flicked the cap closed. After tossing the bottle to the side, Oscar latched onto Elias's hips with both hands and shoved his cock all the way in again. 

            "Here we go, sweetheart." Oscar's rhythm gradually quickened, his balls slapping Elias's ass with each stroke. Riding his ass like a mechanical bull, Oscar stroked fast then slow, hard then easy, grinding from side to side, long stroke to slow stroke.

            "Hard, Baby. Hard. I'm gonna come!" Elias lowered his head, revealing white knuckles on the one hand that gripped the back of the bench.

            Elias's ass muscles clenched Oscar's cock with tremendous strength. Oscar moaned and bit his lip trying to hold out, but it was no use. He was too close to the edge.

            Elias raised his head. "I'm coming!"

            Oscar pounded Elias ass hard and steady. "Such a sweet ass. I'm coming too!"  Oscar slowly worked his cock in and out, letting Elias's tightened muscles drain his oversensitive dick.

            "Damn, Babe. You just rocked my world." Elias rested his head in the fold of his arm, propped on the back of the bench.

            Oscar melted into Elias's sweaty back as Oscar's upper body folded with exhaustion. But he did muster up enough energy to say one thing.

            "Ready for a swim?"


         Whew! Working with all that wood is hard work, huh? I hope you enjoyed the story and continue to have a safe holiday weekend. Now, let's check out those other SO members and see what they've been up to. C'mon, you know the drill. Follow me…