TWITTER REPORTS THAT MATTHEW RUSH HAS DIED!!!!!!!

OK. The porn star persona of Matthew Rush!
Not the actual Matthew Rush, whose real name is Greg, and who announced his retirement this week on Twitter (of course). "I've told myself when I met the man of my dreams, 'Matthew Rush' dies. I'm sorry, but 'Matthew' died @ 11:45PM last night ... Hi, I'm Greg," he wrote earlier this week.
And with that, Rush's ten plus years in gay porn came to an understated close.
In 2001, Matthew Rush became Falcon's first "lifetime exclusive" and was one of the first (if not the first) bi-racial gay porn stars to enjoy such success.

An exotic bodybuilder's psychique juxtaposed with boy-next-door looks, Rush was intimidating yet innocent. He was shy, yet aggressive. He had muscles as hard as steel, but the skin surrounding them looked at soft as velvet. He was a top, and later he was a bottom. His cock was huge, his ass was bigger. Matthew Rush was both everything a gay porn star was supposed to be and like no other gay porn star anyone had ever seen before.

With industry awards for Best Newcomer, Best Versatile, Best Performer, Best Duo, and Wall of Fame honours, Rush left Falcon in 2009 to work independently for other studios. He crossed over into several gay indie film projects, including Bruce LaBruce's L.A. Zombie and Another Gay Movie. Currently, Rush is appearing in the stage production of Making Porn in San Francisco. Goodbye forever, Matthew Rush! Or goodbye until I see you at the gym with your hot boyfriend who, as your tweets suggests, is indeed hot and worth leaving porn for.

[Some of these pictures - like the one directly above - of Matthew are from a fabulous sunset shoot he did for Manifest Men back in September 2009. "Adult superstar Matthew Rush is a modern legend, the perfect package of think masculine muscle and manly sexual charm and confidence with a dash of youthful enthusiasm," they said on their website. "He has few peers in the world of male erotica but he remains as approachable and friendly as the day he first started out. His confidence blends with his intense sexuality to create a very special blend."]

NEW YORK FINALLY SAYS "I DO!!!!"

In a historic vote with far-reaching implications, the New York State Senate passed the marriage equality bill Friday, making New York the sixth and most populous state in addition to Washington, D.C., to offer civil marriage for same-sex couples.



The 33-29 vote, including four Republicans, came at the end of the legislative session and capped a dramatic week in Albany, where loud protests for and against the bill, many based in religious belief, filled the hallways outside the Senate chamber and the majority conference room at the state capitol. New York became the first state with a Republican-controlled legislative body to pass a marriage equality bill, following passage multiple times in the Democratic-controlled state Assembly since 2007.


The marriage equality law will take effect 30 days after being signed by Gov. Andrew Cuomo.

Home to almost 20 million people and the nation’s largest city, New York will double the number of Americans living in a state with marriage equality and bring international attention to the latest chapter in the gay rights movement. The development appears destined to become a national turning point, with litigation pending in the federal court system and legislation under consideration in other states while public opinion trends toward majority support for marriage equality, according to recent polls.


In the immediate future, the vote in New York would seem to demand a response from President Barack Obama, who continues to evolve on his marriage equality position. In an address to gay Democratic donors at a major Pride Month fund-raiser in Manhattan Thursday, he said he supported equal rights for couples but stopped short of supporting gay marriage.


The Senate vote in New York caps an intensely coordinated, bipartisan campaign under the direction of Gov. Cuomo that raised an estimated $2 million, more than half of it from Republican-affiliated donors. The governor worked with New Yorkers United for Marriage, a bipartisan coalition of five LGBT organizations: Human Rights Campaign, Empire State Pride Agenda, Log Cabin Republicans, Marriage Equality New York, and Freedom To Marry.


Such coordination, let alone victory, seemed nearly unimaginable less than two years ago, when in December 2009 the marriage equality bill failed in the then Democratic-controlled Senate by a vote of 24 to 38, with no Republicans in support. Since that time, Republicans regained control of the Senate and gay donors helped unseat three senators, two Democrats and one Republican, who voted against the bill, replacing them with yes votes to bring the measure six votes of passing of passing at the start of this year.


The marriage equality push found a champion in Cuomo, a popular Democratic governor and former attorney general who took office in January. Under the supervision of his office, the New Yorkers United for Marriage coalition formed this spring, pulling together resources in a way never before seen on the state level to execute a unified communications, field and lobbying campaign targeting voters and undecided state senators.


Following months of quiet preparation, the campaign launched publicly in April and quickly coalesced its message around a poll that showed 58% of New Yorkers, a historic majority, supported the legalization of same-sex marriage. Business, labor and religious leaders spoke in support, while a range of celebrities, sports figures, everyday New Yorkers, and elected officials, including former president Bill Clinton, endorsed the effort. New York City mayor Michael Bloomberg delivered a public speech on the topic, in addition to lobbying and fund-raising.


Powerful forces of opposition also converged in New York. The Catholic Church and the National Organization for Marriage lobbied against the marriage equality bill, and the influential Conservative Party of New York State vowed to withhold its endorsement from any Republican lawmaker who supported the proposal. In the end, their efforts failed, although concerns within the Republican Senate conference resulted in a week-long negotiation over religious protections that at times seemed to threaten the bill’s prospects.


Long in development, momentum for marriage equality seemed to take hold in the second-to-last week of the legislative session, when three undecided Democratic state senators who voted no in 2009 announced they would support the bill, bringing every member of their conference on board except the avowedly antigay Ruben Diaz Sr. Soon after, James Alesi, the first Republican state senator to support the bill, joined them, followed by his colleague Roy McDonald.


The total number of senators in support of the bill stood at 31, just one vote shy of passage until the last moment, when the Republican conference under the leadership of Sen. Dean Skelos announced it would bring the measure to the floor for a vote.


Two more Republican votes, from Stephen Saland and Mark Grisanti, remained unrevealed until the floor debate, adding to the suspense as Pride weekend began in New York City.

JAMES FRANCO GOES GAY!! --AGAIN!!

James Franco's new film — which he not only stars in but also wrote, directed, and produced — chronicles the short life of tortured gay poet Hart Crane.

The black-and-white movie is called The Broken Tower, named for one of Crane's last publications. The poet, who killed himself at 32 in 1932, was behind obtuse poems that featured frequent metaphors. The Los Angeles Times caught up with Franco at the Los Angeles Film Festival, and he told the paper he doesn't understand much of Crane's work.

"I couldn’t even tell you what half his stuff means," literature-lover Franco said, according to the Times. "But what inspired me is his spirit and drive. He cared so much about his work, even when nobody else understood it."


The film features graphic sex scenes as well as Crane reading a poem aloud for 10 minutes straight. Crane will be the second gay poet Franco has portrayed — the first being Allen Ginsberg in Howl. Franco received an Independent Spirit Award in 2009 for his role as Harvey Milk's boyfriend Scott Smith in Gus Van Sant's Milk.

I am in love with James Franco. Not because he is stunningly handsome. But because of his determination, perseverance and nerve to do what he wants when he wants. He decided upon his new project and took the reigns.
Regardless of the character's sexuality (or because of it) he takes and creates roles that others are too afraid to approach or attempt. James is not afraid to be gay on film, to kiss another man, to show love and intimacy between two men. He does not fear the Hollywood stigma of being pigeon-holed as "a gay character."
I applaud James Franco and will be a supporter for life of this incredibly talented man!

GO SEE THIS MOVIE!!

CHEERS!
"The Camera"

FEATURE DONE ON "THE CAMERA"

Ive been profiled before on other blogs and sites, but this is really flattering.
Fresh Gay did a post on G4TC and did a great job.
Thanks so much!

(They made me sound so important! Hehehehe...)
So check them out (the link is in my Blogroll) and check out the story they did about the site HERE.

CHEERS!
"The Camera"

JONATHAN KNIGHT OUTS HIMSELF

"I have never been outed by anyone but myself," New Kids on the Block's Jonathan Knight wrote in a statement on the boy band's official Website Friday. The singer, who was reportedly outed two weeks ago on Bravo's Watch What Happens Live by his ex-girlfriend, pop star Tiffany, says he's been out for 20 years.

Knight wrote on NKOTB's blog: "I have never been outed by anyone but myself! I did so almost twenty years ago. I never know that I would have to do it all over again publicly just because I reunited with NKOTB! I have lived my life very openly and have never hidden the fact that I am gay! Apparently the pre requiste to being a gay public figure is to appear on the cover of a magazine with the caption "I am gay". I apologize for not doing so if this is what was expected! My belief is that you live your life by example, and not by a caption on a magazine! If there ever has been any confusion about my sexuality, then you are someone that doesn't even know me!"


"I love living my life being open and honest, but at this time I choose not to discuss my private life any further! My fellow band members don't discuss their private lives with their loved ones and I don't feel that just because I am gay, I should have to discuss mine!"

Because Knight has never discussed his sexuality in an interview, numerous outlets including Advocate.com reported two weeks ago that Tiffany had outed the singer in her appearance on the Bravo show. After saying she and Jonathan had once dated, she said, "He's fabulous. But he became gay later."

TIFFANY OUTS NEW KID KNIGHT!!!

Late-’80s pop icon Tiffany was appearing on Bravo’s Watch What Happens Live Thursday night when she let slip that New Kids on the Block’s Jonathan Knight is gay.

The transcript is below.


Andy Cohen: Tiffany, New Kids on The Block opened for you. Did you have anything with any of the NKOTB ...

Tiffany: I did, with Jonathan Knight.


Andy: Oh, Jordan Knight.


Tiffany: No, the quiet one. The shy one. He's fabulous. But he became gay later.


Andy: Did you turn him?


Tiffany: No [laughs]. I had issues with that, I was thinking maybe I did. But no, now looking back when we were dating, he was so much fun — we used to do facials together, he was so easy to talk to.

In 2009 the National Enquirer ran an interview with a man claiming to be Knight's former partner. He told the tabloid Knight discovered he liked men shortly after dating Tiffany.
The New Kids on the Block are currently scheduled to hit the road this summer on a concert tour with the Backstreet Boys.
Tiffany was appearing on the show with fellow pop star Debbie Gibson, who followed it up by saying she has plenty of gay ex-boyfriends too.

OUT MAGAZINE'S NEW SURVEY ---- ALL ABOUT US!!!

Press Release Roundup: Out magazine is tub-thumping its first annual Sex & Love Survey. Roughly 1000 readers representing every state were polled.
“We know you want to hook up with Ryan Reynolds. We know nearly half of you slept with a woman before seeing the light,” reads the promo description. “We know folks in the West think they’re the best lovers, while Midwesterners are the least confident… And that’s not even half of what we know—read on to learn a lot about yourself, and the rest of us.”
The question of porn and its role in the sex lives of men is not quite addressed. But when queried about celebrity hook-ups, pornsters Brent Corrigan, Colton Ford and Dean Monroe are mentioned. Elsewhere, a whopping 82 percent say they watch free online porn; only 18 percent owned up to paying for it. A modest 17 percent of respondents “have paid for sex at some point” while “11 percent of you have been paid.”
Given the contentious debate over whether bareback porn films promote or glamorize unsafe sex, 76 percent of 18-25-year-olds “Always/Mostly” wear a condom, while 80 percent of those 26-35 and 77 percent of respondents aged 36-45 always/mostly wear them. Men aged 46-55 and 55-65 wear the condoms nearly two-thirds of the time they have sex
Also, 50 percent of those up to age 35 masturbate daily.

Focus on.....DIRTY STORIES!!!

MID TERM EXAMINATION----

I lost my virginity when I was 19. I was a sophomore in college. He was a professor at the university.

I was captivated by Dr. Lewis from the first day I walked into his sociology class. He was a passionate, dynamic teacher, and he was so handsome! He must have been in his 40s or 50s, I guessed. He had black hair just beginning to show flecks of gray. He was tall and lean. He was given to wearing three piece suits, and he often took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscular, hairy forearms.

I sat at the front of the class. Sometimes he would look at me during a lecture, and his icy blue eyes would make my blood alternately freeze and boil. He was beautiful and brilliant, and I wanted him. But one day in class he spoke of his wife, and I became resigned to the fact that I would probably never be able to do anything but fantasize about him.

I fantasized so much that by midterms I was failing his course. One day he asked me to remain after class. I could tell by the way he spoke that he was going to be stern with me about my poor showing in his class so far — me, an A student in high school and even in my other college courses! I was so nervous. What excuse could I give him for my poor grades? I could hardly tell him that I wanted him to fuck me so badly, I couldn't think straight.

After everyone had left he told me, in a kinder voice than I had expected, that he was concerned about my performance in his class. I mumbled some stupid excuse. He offered to give me some pointers and asked if I could spare a few minutes. My next class wasn't for two hours, so I said, "Sure."

He crossed the room and locked the door. "So we won't be disturbed," he said quietly. Just the sound of his deep, commanding voice made my nipples hard.

"Let's go to that back table in the corner," he said, getting a pad and pen from his desk. I picked up my textbook and followed him. I couldn't speak. I just tagged along and wondered how long this would take.

We sat at the table for about 15 minutes, discussing the day's lecture — or, more accurately, he discussed it, and I nodded dumbly. The nearness of him and the scent of his cologne were overpowering. I wasn't listening, and he could sense it. Every time he reached over to point out something in my textbook, his hot, furry forearm brushed against mine and sent a bolt of lust through me, straight from my arm to my balls.

I was so intoxicated by him that I was only dimly aware that he was no longer speaking but just sitting and staring at me. There was a furrow between his heavy black eyebrows and a question in his eyes, as if he couldn't decide what to make of me. When I looked directly at him, he quickly glanced away. He was breathing heavily. The only noises in the room were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the ragged sounds of our breathing.

Then I glanced down at his lap and saw the bulge in his crotch. His thick penis, cradled in a nest of cotton folds, was straining against the fabric of his trimly cut khaki pants. I could see the outline perfectly — the shaft and the bulbous head were tightly constrained.

I felt as if fire had consumed me, and suddenly I had to touch him, and I felt that he wanted me to; that he was giving me his silent consent.

So I touched him, and I looked at his face as I did so. He still would not look into my eyes, but relief and desire flooded his face. He seemed to have fallen into a spellbound, dreamlike state, but I felt his cock throbbing against my hand as I stroked it through the fabric of his trousers.

Suddenly I wanted to touch all of him, to feel every inch of his hot body under my fingertips. I touched his face, lightly, on the cheekbone. I touched his ears. I touched his mouth, and he tasted my fingers and sighed with what sounded like pleasure. Then I touched his shoulders and ran my fingers up and down over the hairs on his arms. I touched his chest and could feel the thick padding of muscle through the thin fabric of his dressy shirt, then rested my hands on his thighs before feeling his crotch again and giving his balls a squeeze.

"I don't know what to do," he whispered to me. "I'm not supposed to be doing this." His voice was as steady as ever, but his hands were trembling.

"Take off your clothes so I can see your body," he said in the sexiest dominant way that I have ever heard, even to this day!

I stood before him and slowly took off all my clothes, even my socks. When I was naked my dick stood out in front of me, fully erect, and he reached out to touch it. As he wrapped his hand around my cock, I clasped my own hand around his cock.

Then I loosened his tie and proceeded to remove his vest, his shirt, his shoes and socks, and his trousers. He let me do it all without a word. And when I knelt before him and took his cock into my mouth, he held my head in his hands as if we had done this before.

His cock was not overly long but thick and warm and pulsating in my mouth. I closed my eyes and inhaled the heavy, sweet musk of him. Then he withdrew his dick from my mouth and had me sit on the edge of the table while he got down on his knees and started to suck my cock. It didn't take him long to discover what I liked — long, lascivious lip strokes alternating with some short, sharp tongue jabs. I was growing hotter by the second. I went wild. I pulled on his hair and stroked his moving, sucking jawline and stuck a finger up his nose and another in his ear, just to feel what they were like, and wrapped my legs around his back and stroked his ass cheeks with the soles of my feet. I noticed I was sitting on my open textbook.

In a little while he let my dick pop out of his mouth and hoarsely rasped, "I want to be inside you."

He picked me up and carried me across the room to his chair, the big chair behind the professor's desk, and he sat down in his chair, stroking his cock. I sat on his lap and kissed him, licked him, petted him, played with him. I was light headed with sexual arousal, and I wanted to giggle like a little boy, out of sheer well being, whenever I wasn't kissing him. The implications of this teacher-student picture were not lost on me, but I was too horny to care.

He licked his right forefinger and slid it into my tight hole. I gasped as he pushed past my ring and then felt a flood of warmth, of pleasure, of heat that I had never felt before. He leaned forward and kissed my neck, wiggled his finger and hit my prostate. WOW! I had a "white hot light behind my eyes" moment.

"Please do that again," I said.

"Here's something better." As he said that, he grabbed his slick and dripping cock.

I straddled his legs, which were taut and furry like his arms. Facing away from him, I lowered myself onto his spit and precum-soaked cock and felt the thickness of him stretch my asshole. He placed his hands firmly on my ass and held me down on him, then slowly probed and swirled and wiggled his cock inside me.

Then I slowly began to hump his dick, moving up and down on his shaft, undulating my hips, clenching and unclenching my asshole. He moaned and bit the spot between my shoulder blades, and I almost blacked out from the intensity of unadulterated pleasure. I rode his cock for what must have been somewhere between a moment and an eternity and surfed waves of desire that threatened to drown me.

My pace quickened. I impaled myself on his cock — hard — and our moans echoed loudly through the empty classroom. As we neared the end, his hands were all over my body at once, and I can remember his thick fingers, the tender roughness of them, the smooth, dry pads of his palms sliding over my ass, my back, my thighs, my stomach and chest, and finally stroking my bobbing, engorged cock.

I shot burning jets of my thick juice into his hands, still riding him, and my head fell back in ecstasy onto his shoulder. I could feel his warm, quick breaths on the back of my neck. Suddenly he clutched me in his strong arms and let out a roar as he poured his hot seed into me. I could feel his cock pulsing in my tight ass, shooting a hot stream of his juice deep into me.

He kissed my neck. He licked the sweat from my back between my shoulders. He embraced me as no one had before, as if he couldnt bear to let go for fear of feeling naked, alone and vulnerable. And then he told me, "I wanted to do this for a long time now. You made my dream come true."

HIS dream?

I'm 26 now, and I've never told anyone this story before. I'm telling it now because I want you to know that dreams do come true.

HOT STORY FOR YOU

As promised, Monday is Hot Story Day!

Heres a good one.....mmmmmmmmm

THE NEW KID IN TOWN

A shot of pain ripped through Pack's body. "Christ!" he grumbled as he gasped for air. "The fuckin' concrete's killin' my legs." He didn't break his stride, though. Instead he tromped down harder, trying to fight off the aching. One, two, one, two. Left, right left, right. The pace was like an incantation, taking him away from everything, even the angry messages his leg muscles were sending his brain. Pump it, baby . . . pump it down the pavement.

When he'd started to jog three years ago Pack had noticed numbers now and then. A shock of blond hair catching the late sun, a shirtless athlete working out in the park, a hot young jock with jeans glued to an ass that wouldn't quit. He'd even cruised a few, sometimes making one. But that didn't matter anymore. He'd had it with the games. Ever since Joey'd gone nobody meant shit, and Joey'd never be back.

So he jogged to get away. It was Pack's way of unwinding, easing out the tensions of his job as pressroom foreman at Underwood Printing, getting rid of the bullshit games of the two dozen pressmen who were after his job. When his shoes were on it was just him and the movement — steady, rhythmic, empty movement. Nothing outside the running was real. Nothing else mattered. Nothing and no one.

Sometimes he found himself remembering things when he ran, especially now that the air was turning cold and the old oak trees lining the streets were pock marked with splashes of yellow. He remembered when he was a kid and his buddies nick named him "Pack" because they said it looked like his pants were packed. He laughed to himself and smiled. "I guess they were," he mused. Joey'd thought so, too. "Three goddam years," Pack recalled bitterly. "Three fuckin' years and Joey decides he's got to enlist and prove he's a real man." If Joey's father hadn't written him, Pack would never have found out how the kid died, jumping out of a plane with a parachute someone hadn't folded right. It was still hard to believe, almost a year later.

When he finished his ten he took a cold shower and shivered, soaping down his body. Pack was satisfied with the way he looked. For thirty he was in good shape — tight, full muscles, sandy thick hair, a cross shaped dusting of chest hair that tunneled down to his groin. And there was his cock, a good nine inches when hard and thick enough to push out his jeans into a bulge that people caught like a neon sign. It'd been months since he'd tricked. Not that Pack had problems getting guys interested. He was just tired of the cruise.

He hadn't set foot in a bar since Joey'd died. For a while he went to the tubs, but that got to be more of a bore than a turn on. When he discovered that running was a good way to pick up some action he played along for a while, but it got old, too. No one and nothing matched Joey. It didn't bother Pack that he hadn't made a connection for so long. What worried him was that he didn't even care.

Everything in his life was routine. The press he operated revolved, round and round, stamping out bestsellers that all looked alike. He worked eight to four thirty, five days a week. It'd been that way for six years. The orders he gave at work were routine. Keeping the plant moving like a dock had made him Underwood's most valuable tradesman. He picked up his check every Friday, took it to the bank at exactly 11:30 a.m., kept the same amount of cash, bought the same groceries and booze. Then there was the jogging — more routine. Instead of letting it get him down, though, Pack lost himself in the predictability of his life. He immersed himself in the ritual. That bothered him, too. It bothered him routinely, every weekend beginning about ten O'clock Friday night.

He'd been slipping lower, sipping on Jack Daniels in the nearly dark living room of his apartment, when his routine depression was interrupted by a sharp rap at the door.

"In a minute," he called, pulling himself up slowly, wondering who it could be. Pack's friends had all gone off somewhere else and he wasn't used to visitors.

When he opened the door he nearly gasped. It could have been Joey, but it wasn't, of course. Still, the short brown hair, the trim mustache, the day's growth of beard, the bright dark brown eyes, and the compact, muscular torso veiled beneath the dark blue pullover were part of Joey. But this man was older, perhaps thirty three or four, and his body revealed an exposure to more of life's rough edges than Joey's mother and father had let their son experience.

There was a kind of innocence about Joey that had melted away from this stranger long ago.

The man took a long look at Pack before he stammered, "Say, I'm sorry to bother you." He peered into the dark room. "Didn't disturb anything, did I?"

"Sure," Pack replied. "Come on in."

The stranger entered the dark apartment gingerly, embarrassed by the solitude he'd snatched away. "Feels good in here. My heat's not on yet."

"You moving in across the hall?" Pack called from the kitchen as he fumbled through the tools.

"Yeah. Thought I'd get started right away. Heat's supposed to be on tomorrow, but you know how the fuckin' gas company is."

"They were two days late turning mine on."

"Sounds like my sorta luck."

When Pack returned with the screwdriver the two of them couldn't help staring at each other again. It was like some kind of magnetism. In the dim light Pack realized the guy was well worth a second glance. And the man's jeans poked out several inches around a bulge that he knew wasn't bullshit. He could see the vague outline of a cock that seemed to be getting bigger.

"Here goes," he said, handing the tool to the man. They both blinked, as if jerked from a trance.

"Thanks a bundle. I really 'preciate it."

"No sweat. Need any help?"

"Naw. I got it licked now. I'll have this right back."

"Come in for a drink when you're finished," Pack invited, before he realized what he was saying. "It'll warm you up."

"Don't mind if I do," the stranger replied with a countrified wink. "Chill's already goin' away."

It wasn't long before he returned. Pack steered him to one end of the sofa and chuckled. "I guess I oughtta introduce myself. Name's Tony. Tony Strup. Friends call me Pack."

The other man smiled, his eyes level with his host's waist. "Yeah. Name fits," he muttered, almost to himself. "I'm Jim Douglas."

The feel of Jim's firm handshake sent an odd sensation through Pack's body. He realized for first time in a long time he was desiring a guy again. It'd been so long he'd almost forgotten how it felt.

"Umm," Jim sighed, taking a long sip of the bourbon. "That sure hits the spot."

"Nothing like Jack Black to take the bite out of a night like this."

"That's for sure. I knew it'd be cold up here but this is fuckin' freezin'!"

"Where're you from?"

"Georgia," Jim replied, making it sound more like Joeja. "Ever hear o' Valdosta?"

"Been there," Pack nodded, captivated by Jim's drawl. It sounded fresh, all man, perhaps a little naive. A sexy combination, especially matched with a body like Jim's. "At least as close as you get on I-75."

Jim laughed. "That's about as much o' Valdosta as most folks see. I guess they figure it's enough. Anyway, I'm from right outside town, 'bout twenty miles. Grew up on a tobacco farm."

"Almost presidential material, huh?"

"She-e-e-t!" Jim chortled. "Folks had some respect fo' Georgia 'fore peanut brain got 'lected."

While they talked Pack spent more and more time watching Jim's lap. The newcomer seemed to be unwinding just fine. Nothing had been said yet, but Pack had a feeling everything was okay. Jim's legs spread wide, his tight jeans clinging to the well packed meat beneath. Now and then he ran his fingers along the inside seam of the pants, brushing across the rise in denim. Jim knew he was being watched.

When Pack rose to fix more bourbons he was aware of Jim's eyes following his ass. "Like it that way?" Jim called, referring to the drink.

"I like just fine," Jim answered meaningfully.

It didn't slide by Pack. "You seein' anyone since you moved?" he asked, slipping back into the sofa.

Jim shook his head. "Naw. Ain't had time to meet nobody yet. I 'spect I will, at work, yunno."

"It's kinda lonely in a new town when you don't know anyone," Pack mused. He realized he and Jim weren't much different. Even though he'd lived there half his life Pack wasn't close to anyone in the city. Everyone who'd meant something had gone. As the irony dawned on him his mouth creased into a wry smile.

"What's so funny?" Jim asked, his leg grazing his host's.

"I been here fifteen years and I feel like a stranger myself," Pack replied, letting his leg lean against Jim's and stay there. "Hell, I might as well be in Valdosta."

There was long silence, each of them wrapped up in his own thoughts. They seemed to be closer now, not only from the talk but from the touch. Pack's head was ripe with the presence of Jim. There'd been quite a few in and out of this apartment, but this is the first time it seemed like there'd really been another person present. The slight contact with Jim's leg filled him with desire.

His eyes met Jim's and he saw it there, too — the same longing, the same animal hunger.

"You ever seen two guys fuck before?" Jim asked. The abrupt question shook Pack out of his reverie. Something about that sparkle in his new neighbor's eyes reassured him. It was cool. This was just his way.

Pack smiled a knowing half smile, feeling no need to pretend. "Uh-huh," he mumbled.

Jim looked him right in the eye, hardly blinking, in absolute eye contact the way Southern men meet other men's eyes. The naked intensity of Jim's gaze pumped up Pack like a drug. He felt his skin get hotter, his dick swell beneath the denim.

Without breaking his concentration Jim went on. "I seen 'em do it once, 'bout a year ago. It was harvestin' time an' we hired on a half dozen extra hands to do the pickin' an' bundlin' an' shit an' these two — they was back in the ol' shed where nobody goes no more one evenin' an' I was goin' to see if they wanted to come share whiskey with us an' when I got there I heard these sounds, not loud, yunno, jus' kinda low sounds, so I went in real easy and quiet."

Pack broke in. "Sounds like water running down a creek or wind rustling tree branches. Sounds where you know someone's there but you know you can't make any noise. You can't interrupt. Sounds like squirrels make and you want to see but you don't want them to get scared. Those kinds of sounds."

"So I eased on through the door an' the place was full o' the smell of dried leaves an' shit, you know how it smells when it's still hot and real still and quiet but the air is full of autumn. At first I could just see one of 'em, his back. They was kinda behind an old stall or somethin' an' I figured one of 'em was down on the ground on his knees, 'cause the one I saw was standin', so I crouched down real low behind some old tools an' junk so he couldn't see me, an' he didn't have nothin' on and he was lookin' down his waist at somethin' an' movin' back and forth real easy, like when you're fuckin’, pushin' his hips in an' out. I couldn't see low enough, but I figured the other one was blowin' him."

"You were right," Pack filled in, still meeting the other man's gaze, reciting the words as if he were a character in a play. "The other man had been wanting it all day, dreaming of what that long, hard muscle would feel like in his mouth while he watched his friend crouch and stretch in the fields. When the day was done he tore into him like a starved coyote. He was urgent with the need. He ran his tongue all over the man's crotch, breathing in the smell of the sweat, licking him all over, running his tongue along the shaft, feeling it bob with the need to shoot a load, heightened by the day's field work. He took it in, little by little, letting the head of the cock nestle against the back of his throat, feeling his tongue relax to open a hole big enough for the meat in his mouth, wanting it all, wanting it all."

Still fixing his eyes on Pack's Jim continued to detail the scene. "The guy was groanin', pushin' back and forth faster an' faster, an' I figured he was 'bout ready to pop it when it looked like the other one pushed him back. He looked down, then kinda smiled, spittin' on his rammer, then he sank down so I couldn't see nothin' but the top of his head."

"He drank a spurt of cream, tasting sweet and salty, oozing like honey down his throat. He knew it was time. Gently he pushed back 'gainst the man's muscular, thrusting legs, feeling the hot sweaty hairs curl under his palms. God, he wanted him. He wanted to drink him, every last drop. But he wanted to feel him, too. He needed that even more, he rolled back, flipping over on his wadded up jeans and shirt, arching his ass up like a roll of land and spreading his legs. His asshole ached with the need to feel that hunk of meat inside. He put a big gob of spit in his hand and worked his fingers into his hot, tight asshole until it was lubed. His own hard on pressed into the damp fabric underneath."

Without breaking the flow of thought Jim continued. "I crept up real slow an' quiet till I could see through a slit in the boards. Man, I was so close to 'em I could almost feel their breath. I still couldn't see the other guy's face, just his ass. And was gettin' it! At first I heard this hiss, like a rattler. I figured he'd rip wide open, or shit, or somethin'. I ain't never seen nothin' like that! But he hunched back 'gainst that thing like he wanted more. That fucker looked like it was a foot, biggest damn thing I ever saw, just glistenin' with spit and sweat. Even if that guy'd hollered out in pain he'd a got it. There's a time when you jus' can't stop, yunno? Anyway, this guy starts fuckin' serious, grindin' away like a goddam drill. He held on to the other guy's hips with these big hairy hands. I figured they must o' felt like vices. He banged away so goddam fast it all blurred. All I heard was this low hummin' noise from the one lyin' down, like he dyin' or somethin', but I knew he wasn't 'cause he kept pushin' back 'gainst that ass, o' course. I was gettin such a roarin' hard, you wouldn't believe. Real gentle I unzipped my pants an' pulled it out and started jackin' off, right there next to 'em in the shed, them havin' no idea."

"At first it ached. Christ, it was like a fire-hot splinter up his asshole! Then the pain died away, like a bad dream, and all he could feel was the big hunk of meat inside him and he thought he'd go crazy with the feeling. He lurched back, ready for it, needing it, feeling his own cock ooze pre-cum as the big head of that man size dick tickled his prostrate." Pack's own rock hard rod lurched beneath his jeans while he talked. "He tightened his legs so his legs so he could feel more, wrapping them around the guy's waist, feeling every inch of that muscle, gripping that fucker with his sphincter, working it like a goddamn hand, eating it, every bit of it. When he could feel the man's balls bang against the underside of his legs he felt himself get ready to explode, felt them lay up against him like goose eggs, warm and sweaty, felt chills run up his spine as the snake inside him seemed to swell and lengthen until he thought he'd burst open."

"Man, they was fuckin' like two dogs in heat! I ain't never been so turned on in my life," still gazing into Pack's eyes, aware of the urgency of his own cock, aware of Pack, aware of the ozone smell of the lighting storm in their brains. "All at once this guy starts groanin', bangin' at that ass real rough and hard, grippin' the other guy's sides like he was holdin' on to a life raft, his face all wrinkly likely he was gonna die. Then I heard a cry. Musta been the guy underneath. All at once that little ass started to push back an' forth with a life of its own, sinkin' down on the guy's dick till I couldn't see none of it. I could smell their sweat. Man, I was workin' myself fast by then. I knew I was gonna cream any minute. Fuck, I didn't even care if they heard. Well, this guy on the bottom starts to scream, not loud, you know, jus' kinda low and brassy, when the one fuckin' 'im plowed in like a batterin' ram, jus' sank himself in all the way. 'Oh Christ!' he screamed. No lie. That fucker jus' let out at the top o' his lungs. I guess he didn't care who heard. 'Oh fuckin' Christ!' He clenched his hands on that guy's waist and gave a dozen heaves at that ass like his dick was a machine gun. I figured that guy's asshole was packed with juice."

"He felt the lurching and he knew it was time. Suddenly he felt everything, every nerve was alive. He needed it harder now, harder and faster. He started to move his ass back against the man, gobbling him up like Saturday night's dinner. He had to have it now, no backing out. The new thrusts came like bolts of lighting, halfway between pain and ecstacy. The shots packed him till he thought he'd split. He felt the fingers dig deep into his sides like needles and he was held, captive, helpless to the drive of the man grinding away at his asshole. His puckered lips were stretched and raw, aching with the friction. 'God,' he thought, 'Christ, he's coming, fuck it's happenin', oh shit!' And he felt his dick lurch under him and the spasm of hot jism splatter out across his belly as the man fucking him buried his dick inside in a warm jello of fuck-juice."

"Jesus, man," Jim said, breathing hard, "I never seen nothin' like it, 'swear to God. I shot a load like I never shot before, sprayin' it everywhere. They both disappeared, pantin' and groanin', down under the boards and I crawled backward real careful till I was outta the shed. It was fuckin' unbelievable!"

"I know. He felt the man's body curl up behind his back, the half hard dick finding its way instinctively between his ass cheeks, his asshole hot and wet with the memory of that man size tool."

"You ever seen anything like that?" Jim asked, brushing his hand across Pack's crotch surprisingly shyly.

Pack smiled, resting his hand on his visitor's leg. A dark spot on Jim's jeans showed where he'd shot off during the conversation. Pack's own pants were drenched with cum, too.

"Yeah," he said, still meeting the Georgian's gaze, "I've seen something like that."

"You think it's fine." Jim's lips looked fantastic in the dim light, his mustache just like Joey's. The little hairs would tickle against him when they kissed. He could feel the eyes inside him, fucking him, wanting him.

"Well, man," Jim said,, rising nervously, "I gotta run. Thanks for the drink."

"No problem," Pack replied. At the door Jim glanced down at his stained crotch and smiled. "Guess we'll be seen' each other now and then, huh?"

"Maybe next time we won't just talk." Pack walked back into the room put out the light and smoked a cigarette while he slowly sipped a fresh glass of bourbon.

HOT STORY FOR YOU

So for all of your reading pleasure....I decided that every onece in a while I will post some hot cock jerking stories for you!

This one is one that I remember very well....makes my cock haard every single time I read it...

ENJOY!!CAUGHT IN THE SHOWER

College was a sexual fantasy-land for a horny young guy like me. Still, I felt like a starving man staring through a delicatessen window — everything looked so good, but I couldn't taste anything inside.I wasn't exactly shy, but I wasn't bold enough to put the moves on another guy. Even if I knew how, the reaction might be pretty unpleasant.

Where I came from, guys like me could look forward to a beating if they were found out. I was no longer in the backwoods of Georgia, but I continued to live with the fear of exposure hanging over my head.I tried not to ogle any guy too long for fear he'd notice. Over the years I’d grown quite adept at snapping mental pictures, and, oh, what I did with those pictures! I must've shot gallons of come fantasizing about my buddies.

At the university, there were far more enticing studs to scrutinize and think about. It was difficult not to stare at some of those hunks — all flexing pecs and rippling abs. I could've drooled over some of them all day.

The locker room and showers were my prime areas for sightseeing. It was there that I could nervously check out the young jocks in all their naked glory. Then one evening I let my eyes linger just a little too long . . .

After a rough practice I’d stripped down in the locker room, using the opportunity to check out Randy, one of my soccer teammates. His firm body and sexy features never failed to turn my head. I grabbed a towel and headed for the showers before I grew too engrossed in Randy’s flexing pecs and rippling abs.

In the showers I was faced with Zac and Joel — talk about hot! They were two of the most beautiful men on campus. I had to fight to keep from getting a hard on every time I was near them.

I stepped under the warm spray and soaped up my body, stealing glances every chance I got. Zac was blond as could be, with devastating blue eyes. Joel had black hair and eyes so green they looked like emeralds. I would've done anything just to touch either of those studs. My nuts were churning, and my cock was beginning to throb. I had to fight back the boner that strained to rear its head: a stiff dick was just what I didn't need at the moment.

Then Randy joined us in the group showers, so I had three incredible jocks to drool over. I felt like the luckiest guy in the world. There was an intense, sexual torment involved, but it was worth it. Besides, the lust those guys inspired was far from unpleasant. Man — were they sexy!

My quiet joy turned to fear as Joel snared my eyes with his own.

"What the fuck are you lookin' at, Devon?"

My heart jumped into my throat, and I could tell the color had drained from my lace. I didn't say a word. Joel, Zac and Randy all stared at me.

"Huh? Answer me!" said Joel roughly.

"I wasn't looking at anything," I said.

"Bullshit! You're such a fucking liar, Devon."

I swallowed hard, didn't know what to do or say. This could be the prelude to a beat down. I had a further problem, too. As scared as I was, Joel's yelling at me was getting me excited. My cock started to rise.

"I know you were checking me out, and them, too," said Joel, indicating the others. "We gcttin' you hot, Devon?"

I didn't answer him. What was I supposed to say?

Joel stepped closer to me and glanced down at my growing dick.

"You're getting a stiff one for me, aren't you, boy?"

"No." I could barely talk.

“Liar. Your dick's getting harder by the second. You want me and you know it."Joel was standing so close I could feel his breath on my face.

Zac and Randy were watching the whole terrifying, humiliating, incredibly arousing scene. I knew I was likely seconds from getting my ass kicked, but I’d never been so turned on.

"Now's your chance, Dev — I could use a good blow. Why don't you get on your knees and suck my cock like you've been dreamin' about?"

I was trembling with fear and lust. Of course I wanted him — I wanted him more than anything — but I had no idea what would happen if I let him know it. Would Joel slug me if I began to sink to my knees? Not only that but Zac and Randy were watching intently.

"Come on. Devon, it's all yours. I can tell you want it!" Joel's dick was pulsing nonstop and beginning to ooze pre-come. Whoa. How I wanted to lick that sticky nectar from the head of his cock! His entire body tormented me with desire — from his smooth, bulging pecs right down to his thick eight inch tool. I wanted him so bad I was willing to do anything, but at the same time, I was more terrified than I’d ever been. I just knew that Joel would kick my ass if I made a move for his crotch.

"Don't be a coward, Devon. At least have the balls to go after what you want."

I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't care what Joel did to me. And I didn't care what Zac and Randy thought or who they told. I dropped to my knees and pulled Joel's cock between my lips.

"Holy shit! He's doing it!" Randy gasped. I could feel both him and Zac staring at me. Joel didn't punch me or push me away. He just moaned. I ran my tongue around the head of Joel's thick shaft. Here I was — 20 years old and I’d wanted to suck cock for ages, but this was the first time I'd ever touched another guy's rod. I massaged the head with my lips. Joel's pre-come was flowing freely, and it was sticky and sweet on my tongue.

I pulled more of Joel's cock between my lips. His loud sounds almost made me cream. I couldn't believe I was sucking his dick! I couldn't believe I was doing it right in front of Zac and Randy. 1 was amazed I had the guts to take such a chance, but, you know, sometimes you just have to say, "What the fuck?" and go for it.

I sucked Joel's cock down, moving it deeper and deeper into my mouth. The head of his tool pressed against the back of my throat, but I just relaxed and let it slide down. I kept putting it back there, making sure my nose was buried in Joel's pubes. He began to buck his hips.

I held his cock there for a few seconds, then drew my lips back up his shaft. My tongue was busy exploring every inch of it. Whenever it would escape from my taut lips, I'd suck his hard meat back into my mouth and start slurping again.

"I just knew you were a cock sucker." Joel said. There was no hint of malice in his voice. Obviously he appreciated my servicing.I kept running my lips up and down his beefy shaft, making him writhe in uncoiling pleasure. Seeing this, Zac and Randy came closer. I watched them from the corners of my eyes. They were mesmerized by the sight of me hungrily sucking Joel's cock, and their own poles were quickly becoming stiff. Soon they were side by side with Joel, a trio of incredible jocks standing over me with rock hard cocks and way hot bodies.

Steam filled the shower room, and water cascaded off the hard muscles of the three hunks standing there, silently dominating me, and fulfilling my every fantasy about sexed-out athletes. How many times had I whacked off picturing a scene like this? But reality was far superior to fantasy. These chiseled jocks towering above me blew away oven the hottest sucks from my high school days. These were college guys, and they were fucking gorgeous!

I pulled my lips from Joel's dick and wrapped them around Zac's tool. He gasped, then whimpered as I sucked him like a pro. Turns out I was a natural! Joel and Randy watched my every move as I worked Zac up into a mass of flexing spasms. The way he sucked in his breath and moaned made my own cock drool pre-come in strands that reached right down to the floor.

I sucked on Zac's amazing pole until curiosity got the better of me and I turned my attention to Randy. I was all over his cock, making him moan just like I had Joel and Zac. Randy was even hotter for it than the other two; he couldn't help but thrust it into my mouth. Watching me suck his buddies no doubt had driven him to this uncontrollable state.

The threesome fondled and stroked themselves, but they never went after the other guys at all. No, they just waited their turn while they watched me sucking dick. I found that being watched made it all the wilder. The edge of danger increased the sexual intensity of it all. I knew they might punish my ass after they'd used me. At the very least I knew they'd probably tell everyone what I'd done, but just then that hardly mattered — just made my cock even harder.

I went back to Joel and gave his long, hard tool a few good sucks, then I dove for his nuts and ticked them like crazy.

"Oh, fuck!" he yelped.

I could tell my lips and tongue on his balls were driving him crazy; he started thrashing it felt so good. I drew one of his nuts into my mouth, then the other, finally both. I rolled them around on my tongue, weighing the thick cream within them. Joel was fully loaded — I knew he'd blow long and hard when the time came.

I slipped back onto his cock, then moved back to Zac and Randy once more. I gave each the same ball treatment as Joel had had, slathering their nuts and sucking on them like crazy. I could tell I had all three studs practically begging for more.

With no other thoughts in my head, I was in a dream world. Fuck, I was sucking off three hot, built hung, horny young jocks all at once! Never before had I been so glad to be on my knees. They just held the circle around me, each waiting his turn as hot water pounded down on us. It was the most overwhelmingly erotic scene I’d ever witnessed, much less participated in. Hell, I’d never even dreamed anything this intense!

I was gulping down Joel's aching tool again when he suddenly howled with pure joy and blew it all between my lips, coming all warm, sticky, and sweet — spurts surged into my mouth, my lips overflowed. I swallowed his spooge and sucked him for more. The dude kept coming like there was no end to his spunk supply.

Zac and Randy were each stroking their hard, shiny cocks as they saw me take Joel's juice. Suddenly Zac threw back his head and shot his thick, hot jets of come over my face and chest. That set Randy off and he gave it up, too, plastering me with every bit of his thick cream.

Feeling that hot jizz sliding down my throat and pelting my hard body was more than I could take. I hadn't touched my dick once, but it went off like a shotgun. I hollered as I blew my load all over their feet.

Joel kept coming in my mouth, while Zac and Randy continued to spray all over me. The shower room was filled with every sexy monosyllable we could manage: "Unhh!" "Mmmf!" Fucker, I mean, good God, we were all getting our rocks off at the same unreal time!

My orgasm was just about more than I could handle as my eyes rolled back in my head, I’d never shot so intensely before. And of course, I’d never dumped my come with one guy jizzing off in my mouth and two others splashing my body with their cream.

It wasn't long before we'd all blown our nuts dry. Joel, Zac and Randy stepped away and rinsed themselves off in the hot water. I stood, soaped up, and saw all their sticky come rinse off my body. At that moment I felt just like one of them, no differences.

Just before leaving the showers, Joel walked over to me.

"You know." he said. "I think we should make a deal."

I looked at him, filled with curiosity and a little fear.

"If you do that for us whenever we want we’ll make sure no one else ever knows or gives you any shit if they catch you checking them out. Right, guys?"

Zac and Randy both nodded. It sounded like one sweet deal to me. Three buff jocks were offering me their cocks and their protection — how could I say no to that?

"I’ll do any of you — or all of you — anytime you want," I said. And I meant it.

We all walked to the locker room, dried off, and dressed. Before the others split I handed each my phone number. I had a feeling I’d never be suffering from lack of dick again. Up till then I may have always feared getting caught checking out another guy in the shower, but for me, all that turned into a fuckin' dream come true.