INTERLUDE Page 5

  Yes!

  I almost screamed when he pulled his eyes from me, went back to taking pictures of the two women. I wanted all his attention. All of it. I hovered nearby, reluctant to go, eager to snatch another chance gaze my way. Yes. I was firm and yes, I was elated over it. I resisted the urge to caress myself, to feel beneath my palm my heated flesh, hammer hard, ready.

  The women giggled and assumed different poses, entwining their arms around each other’s bare waists, held still while he snapped off several more pictures. Wouldn’t the session ever end? I screamed inwardly. Wouldn’t they ever take leave, go about their way, and leave him to me?

  I forced myself to move. There was an outcropping of rocks several feet back from the water’s edge and I managed to go perch on the nearest one to him. The long hot tube between my legs rose invitingly to sit in my lap as I perched, hoping, wishing, for him to join me.

  Oh, it was crazy. Had I actually found my diversion? This male specimen, this so perfect in form male I had just encountered. And did it stand a chance in hell of coming about - us meeting, falling in love, sharing blissful sex?

  All at once the photo session ended. The two women gathered filmy wraps and covered their bikini-clad bodies, then went toward the towering hotel up the beach. He on the other hand, lingered, picking up and stowing his camera equipment, glancing in my direction.

  I could hardly sit still, perched as I was on the rock. Nor could I resist the intense urge to call attention to the hard-on straining at my shorts. I wanted him to see, to become aroused, to know that his mere assessment of me had caused me to act in such a manner. I was hot for him. Raging hot.

  He raised his beautiful dark haired head and stared at me. I shivered with utter delight. I smiled at him. He smiled back. His eyes lowered to my hard-on, then returned to meet my inquisitive gaze. Was there a chance, my eyes asked. Will you come closer?

  He strode toward me, tight hips swiveling, broad shoulders erect, camera bag swung across his right arm. A breath caught in my throat. Anticipation welled up inside me.

  He halted a few feet from the rock where I sat, eyes pinned on my crotch. For an instant, an uncertain instant, I wondered whether I should continue my show of interest in him, then he put down his camera bag and drew nearer. Momentarily he sat down beside me on the rock, then he reached his left hand into my lap and covered my erection with his palm.

  I bit my bottom lip. I felt like a schoolboy, venturing into territory I knew nothing about. A little tremor of doubt snaked through me, then he closed his hand round my cock and gave it a little squeeze. My heart sang with untold joys. He would be mine. We would have sex. We would be together. I would experience his touch, his near perfect body, the exchange of pleasures.

  “Come to my beach house,” I invited, covering his hand with my own. I debated whether to tell him he would be my first male encounter. I decided I should because I felt certain our encounter would be something wondrous and I didn’t want to have to smother my feelings during any delicious part of it.

  “I’ve never been with a man,” I said, almost in a whisper.

  He raised his hand to my lips and touched one fingertip to my mouth, softly silencing me.

  “I’ll teach you things,” he promised. “I’ll show you how to make love with your body.”

  He lowered his palm to my cock, stroked it, gently squeezed it, then rose from the rock where we sat.

  I led the way, my erection so throbbing hot by this time I had difficulty maneuvering through the sand. He slid one arm around my waist, pulling my side against his, and I hurried to wind my arm around his waist, allowing my curious fingers to ride low on his perfect buttock. I felt so turned on I thought I might go off any second.

  We entered the beach house, touching, hands meeting as I led the way through the front door. My nerves felt jangled. Could I please him? Would I please him? I felt so foreign to what I was about to experience, foreign but so eager I could barely breathe.

  “Don’t be nervous,” he said in a soft voice. A kind smile wreathed his handsome face.

  He pulled me to him with a gentle tug on my left hand, then stroked my chest with strong fingertips. I felt anticipation curling up inside me, awaiting release in a most wonderful way. He took hold of my t-shirt and lifted it over my head, dropping it to the floor at our feet.

  I felt on display, almost divulged to him that I had the urge to pose for him, then it occurred to me that perhaps he would take some pictures of me - at some point. After all, he was a photographer ... and I was suddenly his willing subject.

  I watched him as he took off his clothes, admired his lovely suntanned physique, feasted my eyes on his enormous cock. Long and thick, it was more impressive then mine. He was a god. Adonis. The Greeks could have modeled their statues from the perfect likeness of his body. I stifled a swoon.

  He pushed my shorts from my hips and my anxious staff sprang forth, waving like an erratic flag in a stiff breeze. Immediately he encompassed my length in his hand, began to stroke me, making me weak in the knees.

  “That’s wonderful,” I breathed, staring at my cock in his hand. “I never knew it could feel so exquisite.”

  He chuckled at me, then took my right hand and wound it round his magnificent rod. The breath caught in my throat. I relished the smooth, hot flesh, firm and pulsing in my grasp. I began to stroke him, but only for a few seconds. I wanted more. And he knew what I was thinking. I was elated that he had read my facial expression. I’ve been told I have a very expressive countenance.

  “Get on your knees and suck me,” he said.

  I hurried to comply, wanting to feel him sliding between my lips, tickling my tongue. He was enormous. His round head was like a globe, barely clearing my teeth as I tried to take him inside. At first I worried I might not be man enough to oblige him but momentarily I relaxed a little and his long length began to slide along my lips and tongue with relative ease. It was a whole new experience.

  He fitted both his hands on my head, one just below my jaw. At first I thought he might try and ram himself down my throat, I was afraid I’d choke, become embarrassed, cause him to pull out, but he was so gentle with me. It made the experience all the more enjoyable.

  I grew brave. I touched his large, round balls, covered in dense dark hair. He groaned and pushed his cock in my mouth a little farther. I was glad I was pleasing him. Then I realized my own cock was dripping from its head, leaking cum in prelude to orgasm. He somehow noticed, pulled out of my mouth and gave me a shove backwards, sprawling me on the wooden floor on my backside. Then he came down on me with his hot wet mouth and I let out a loud yelp of pure joy.

  His mouth felt so good! He sucked me in, teased my knob with his wet tongue, pulled back slightly, then sucked me in again. It was utterly blissful. I spread my legs when his hands began fondling my balls and hurriedly reached my own exploring fingers into his crotch to fondle him.

  I bucked against the floor, afraid I might spill my load in his mouth then have trouble regaining erection. I was worried needlessly, I soon discovered, for he didn’t continue sucking me until I ejaculated. He spit my cock out, stroked it with his fingers for several seconds. I thought I might explode from the rhythm he set, then he ordered me to rim him.

  For a second I was lost, then he stood up and pushed his beautiful ass in my face and I soon caught on to what he was wanting. I took both hands and pushed his buttocks apart, eyeing his perfect little rosy asshole.

  “Rim me,” he said in a guttural tone. “Push your tongue into my asshole and lick me real good.”

  Tentatively at first, I approached his bunghole, my tongue aimed at the center of his opening, then I wet the orifice with a few quick licks. The musky smell of him filled my nostrils. I loved it. My cock jumped in my crotch. I felt so hot! I began licking him, listening to his oohs and ahs as he twisted a little with my probing. Then I slid one hand between his legs and grasped his enormous cock in my fingers.

  I was just getting the hang of li
cking his bunghole and jacking him off when he suddenly stepped out of my hold and turned me around.

  “Grab your ankles,” he demanded. “I’m going to rim you now.”

  I hurried to bend over, eager to experience his tongue on my asshole. It had been so delicious to do him - I wanted to know the intense pleasure I had seen him have. I turned and almost immediately he touched me with his mouth. Hot, wet, exhilarating. I didn’t try to keep quiet. I let loose moans of ecstasy. I wiggled my ass from side to side, pushing my hole against his wet mouth. It was splendid. Absolutely splendid.

  Then he grabbed my rod in his hand and began to jack me off.

  “You’re going to make me cum!” I yelped, hoping he would.

  “Enjoy it!” he mumbled against my ass.

  I had no control. The white cum began to spurt, splattering on the floor, wetting

  his fist. I cried out, reveling with the feelings racing through my cock. I never wanted to quit. I just wanted to cum and cum and cum some more, wanted to feel that illusive orgasm tickling my balls, tying my belly in knots.

  Suddenly I felt him trying to enter my asshole and I bent over further, feeling his fingers pushing to get inside me. I felt a shot of fear, remembering how enormous his cock was.

  “You’re going to hurt me,” I cautioned, half in jest for I didn’t want him to stop what he was doing to me. It was wonderful by any measure, but I had heard how easy it was to get ripped when the heat of passion took over.

  “You can handle my cock,” he assured me, digging his fingers inside my hole. “Relax.”

  I tried to do as he advised, after all, he was the teacher and I did so want to please him. I tried to relax, aware that his touching me was becoming less painful as he worked on my asshole. My cock was growing firm again. I took it in my hand, getting into rhythm with him as he started working his large head inside my orifice.

  He pushed. I savored the new feel, a little timid, but wanting to know him. I felt the fullness inside my bunghole as he pushed inside me, gripped my buttocks with both hands, began to work himself inside, slide back, push in deeper. I began to grow used to his size.

  “I knew you could do it,” he whispered to me. “Your asshole is lovely. I like it.”

  “I’m glad,” I returned, hoping we were on the verge of a glorious relationship.

  He pumped into me, grasped my cock with his right hand, mingling his fingers with mine until I pulled my hand away. He was an expert at jacking me off. I watched him work on me, aroused even more. My hot cock loved his grasp, his strong fingers.

  “I’m coming.” His tone was husky. “Open up wide.”

  I bent over a little more, feeling the urge to let go of my own load as he pumped into me. Our sweaty bodies made strange smacking sounds as he worked into me. It was music to my ears. This was wonderful. Diversion at its best. I was so glad I had spotted him on the beach.

  He lunged into me, but I managed to keep from falling on my face as his hand brought me to climax. I felt his release inside my intestines and then the hot juice began to shoot from my engorged length and I let myself fly off into blissful oblivion. I closed my eyes and savored the feeling of orgasm, the naked male body joined to my asshole, the firm grip he held on my cock.

  A little later we shared the shower, caressing each other with exploring hands. I was crazy for him. Crazy. He had showed me newness, endless possibilities. I confessed I wanted to do it all over again in the shower, with the warm mist pelting our aroused bodies. He offered me his asshole to use, to fuck.

  “I’ll try not to hurt,” I said as I began to stroke him.

  “Aim and push,” he directed. “Then work at your own speed.”

  “Oh.” I laughed slightly. “You arouse me so I can’t go slow.”

  “Then go fast. But enjoy yourself. Life is short.”

  Yes, I thought. Life is short. I took my rigid cock in my hand and pressed its round head against his bunghole. The shower spray made it plenty wet, slick for my rod to ease inside.

  His warmth engulfed me, invited me to push deeper. I fought the urge to close my eyes and delight in the feel of our joining. I wanted to experience it all with wide-open eyes. I didn’t want to miss a moment of the ecstasy.

  I pushed in so far I wondered if I should. He reached beneath my cock and fondled my balls, letting me know I wasn’t hurting him. Then I could stand it no longer. I began pumping into his bunghole, savoring the delicious tingles the action brought about. The shower kept us wet, kept my cock slick as his hot insides brought me to the brink.

  I spurted my load inside his asshole, then milked my rod, sliding in and out, pulling to the rim of the rosy orifice, then forcing myself back inside. It was lovely! It was blissful!

  “Let’s fly to England and tour the Palace,” I suggested while we dried each other off with clean white towels. “Or would you rather jet to France and tour the Left Bank?”

  “I have vacation time coming.” He reached one hand out to stroke my bushy crotch.

  “Careful,” I teased. “You turn me on very easily.”

  He laughed at me, then proceeded to fondle my balls.

  “I know,” I reached my hand to his crotch. “Let’s fly over to New Orleans. It’s Mardi Gras time.”

  “We can party in the streets,” he added, smiling.

  “Yes, and have passionate sex in some little secluded hotel.”

  “Will you dress up for me?”

  “Of course. What would you like me to dress as?” I asked, intrigued by the mystery I saw in his eyes.

  He pulled me into his arms, pushed his genitals against mine. “My lover,” he replied. “Then I’ll take pictures of you.”

  “Oh yes! Pictures!” I felt elated.

  It began all over again then, the caressing, the arousing to the point of no return. He was in my blood, filling my senses like nothing else ever had. I was lost in the wonderment of all he stood for.

  We made love, there, in the bathroom, our freshly washed bodies harmonizing like two finely tuned instruments, melding, conjoining, becoming one.

  Later, we stole off to fly to New Orleans, the two of us. I had great plans for our little stay. Mardi Gras is such a happy time in Louisiana. This year it would be an even more joyous event for me.

  We sat side by side in my private plane, hands touching at times, intense gazes passing between us. Could I be falling in love? I questioned myself. Could it be? I confessed to believing in such. Always had. But what I felt for this man was deep, perhaps lasting. This was no mere flight of fancy or a whirlwind affair.

  He stroked my inner thigh with his fingertips. I leaned into his hand, catching it with my own and bringing it upward, to caress my aroused cock. God! I wanted him again! He aroused me so!

  Thank God we were almost ready to land and in a short time we could be secluded away in the hotel room I’d reserved. Then, we could satisfy our lust for each other.

  It was magic. All magic. The touching. The orgasms. The time spent together. The world stood still. I was caught up in the merriment of it all. We laughed. Loved. Took snapshots of each other. Yes. He posed for me also.

  Perhaps the irony of it all was this: I had not known true happiness until that afternoon on the beach when we met. And, he confessed, he too had felt far from achieving fulfillment in his life. We found companionship in each other’s company. Expression of the rarest kind. Love. Yes. True, abiding love. Perhaps.

  The sex was wonderful. He seemed to sense my need before I myself realized it. I had but to look at him to be swept away. He was full of whimsy and fantasy. Unashamed of who he was. Or I of whom I had recently become. There is no shame in pleasures stolen ... exchanged, lived.

  Perhaps one day we will part ... but doubtful. To say all good things must come to an end is passé, a phrase meant to instill the past inside one who has lost. I have been many things in my lifetime—but never a quitter. Diversion is good. It was the fuel for my finding my new love.

  TOM’S FAVORITE PAS
TTIME

  Photographer Tom removed the colored photographs from the drying line in his dark room, stacked them neatly in a tall pile and went to his desk to have a closer look. All his models were gorgeous women, tall, long legged, with voluptuous full breasts. Shooting them on the beach was one of his favorite things, ogling their bikini clad figures always turned him on sexually and for the past three weeks, he had been physically aroused almost constantly. The magazine he worked for was shooting its annual swimsuit edition.

  Tom poured himself a scotch and sat down at his desk, positioning the lamp on his work so he could evaluate each shot for clarity, pose, and overall beauty of the model. It was a hell of a job - but somebody had to do it. He tried to dismiss the errant stirring of his cock, intent on the job at hand.

  His photography was excellent, one shot after the other was precise in every detail. The stack he would submit to his editor was growing rapidly. The staff would have plenty of gorgeous models to pick from for the layout. He felt very proud of himself, his ability, the sheer privilege of having such an attractive job.

  He had almost completed his assessment of the photos, sipped his way through a pint of scotch, when he noticed something odd in one of the pictures. He drew closer to the object, adjusting the magnifying lens almost against the photo. How had he let it happen? He identified the object as a man, off in the distance. He’d been almost certain there were no other people, especially any men, along the sandy strip of beach where he had been shooting. He took the photo and headed for the dark room. He’d enlarge the portion of the frame containing the figure, just for curiosity purposes.

  Tom sipped more scotch and smoked cigarettes while he waited for the photograph to dry enough for him to put it under the light and examine it. For the life of him he just couldn’t recall seeing anyone else on the strip of beach - so how did such a thing happen? The whole area was supposed to be designated territory for the magazine shoot.