Gay Sex Stories - Page 199

Heres my fantasy. Im at the gym getting ready to hit the showers when all of a sudden a cavalry of black guys walk in and begin to tear off the clothes revealing their hot bodies and even hotter cocks. To them, Im an outsider, being white with a six inch cock instead of these huge man mountains, all of whom have massive throbbing black members. Another black man massages my cock underneath.
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First of all I am lucky that I get alot of attention from men. I have a smooth trim body from alot of swimming,dancing and aerobics in college. I have an awesome ass, round smooth and shapely. I love showing it off and knowing that I can get a man's dick to rise in their pants. At the time I was living in a upstairs apartment.
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The apartment complex where I lived had a fairly large maintenance staff. None of the men involved in the painting, roofing, and landscaping of the buildings, though, had his muscular body, his large blue eyes, his wide smile with sparkling white teeth, and his beach boy blond hair. Like me, he was in his late 20s, I guessed.
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This story is obviously for mature audiences, and if you are not of legal age in your state or country to read this, please do not. It involves consensual, non-safe (this is before we knew what we know), piss, and a bit of humiliation. I lived in one of America's most famous or infamous military towns.
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I love the feeling of fleeing down the stairway, with the friction of night air painting my face. My boyfriend's voice is still audible above. You may think I was rude to him back in his apartment. But he's a phoney prick, and a lawyer who's good at acting! There are advantages to breaking up though.
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I joined the Marine Corps at the end of my junior year. Delayed entry program. I'd had plenty of time to think about it and as the time drew near, I desperately wanted to get out of it. But the alternative was to stay in my home town. I chose to go to boot camp. It was my worst nightmare come to life. Up until then, I'd lived a life of relative ease.
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But one day, on a lark, he bought some centaur powder from the occult bookstore that we weren't supposed to visit. It was in this handsome dark-glassed bottle with writing in an odd-looking language, and in embossed in the glass was an etching of centaurs mating. It was a warm summer's afternoon poolside when he told me about it. "Centaur powder?" I asked. "Yeah!" he laughed.
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This happened to me when I was just 17. I was living in Kansas City at the time. I used to have a little red Honda Express moped and would spend hours cruising up and down Main and Troost just for the hell of it. Later at night the whores would be out working the street. Every so often cops would bust their skanky asses. Further downtown the rent boys would be working the corners.
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All this was be washed down with a bottle of claret. Once the table has been clear we relaxed in front of a log fire with a good quality brandy, after a few gentle kisses and cuddles our activities increasingly became more passionate and kisses lasted longer.
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I was pretty amazed at the ballet as I dreamed it - in it, the centaur was under attack from all the Greek soldiers, who thought the centaurs had come to despoil their village. But the part Rusty played was a good young centaur, who had met one of the soldiers and wanted to be friends with him.
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