Model Men

by Neil Plakcy

  I was on my knees in front of his cock, again. I directed, “Turn around and let me have a look.”

  Teddy listened like a good jock/model/roommate.

  My fingers pulled down on the briefs as I admired his bulbous, perfectly fuckable bottom. I saw the red lines on his thighs from where the briefs’ elastic had etched into his muscular and hairless flesh. I then took a whiff of his bottom, became sexually dizzy from his male perspiration, and confessed, “You’re right.…The briefs are too small. Take these off and relax your goods.”

  The roomie was happy to oblige. He slipped out of the briefs and dropped them to the floor, taking a breather.

  Before he had time to turn around, I couldn’t help myself and dabbed my tongue against his bottom. Mouth met his tight rump for the very first time, which surprised the Mormon and caused him to jump.

  Teddy spun around and asked, “Dude, what happened back there?”

  “Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

  He shared a provocative look with me that was innocent and sexy. Teddy then turned around and asked, “So, this is what you want?” and grabbed his cock with his right hand, showing off.

  I admit, he caught me off-guard. The semi-swollen tube of tasty sirloin was just staring at me, as well as its owner. I licked my lips, shared a smile, and confessed rather boyishly, “You must be reading my mind.”

  “I don’t do guys,” he confessed. “Shame on you for thinking about it.”

  “Sorry about that, Teddy,” I shared, rising from the floor.

  He pushed down on my shoulders and said, “Don’t ever try to hit on me again, okay?”

  “I won’t,” I confessed, peering at his upright tool in front of me.

  “And don’t ever think about sucking it, either,” he whispered, pushing the head of his swollen rock to my lips, directing it into my mouth.

  (Click: He didn’t know I was in the bathroom with him while he was showering. Didn’t know I photographed him under his hot spray after he played tackle football with his straight buddies. Didn’t know I liked it when he lathered his torso with Irish Spring and soap dripped off of his taut nipples. Didn’t know I watched him soap up his junk: swirling the bar of green and white soap over his droopy and hairy balls, and along the limp length of his wide cock. Didn’t know...)

  The joys of consensual blowjobs between college roomies was desired to obtain the most ample grades, in my opinion. No wonder I was greedy for Teddy Crew.

  I felt his palms on my shoulders and began to lap the length of his pulsing pole.

  Teddy was in licking luxury, moaning and murmuring above me. After a minute of our connection, he pleaded, “I’m straight. Don’t think this is something you’re going to get every day.”

  I placed my palms on his strong hips for balance, felt his tool push to the back of my throat and his balls slap against my furred chin. He jammed his fleshy device inside me as far as it could plunge, pulled out, and jammed it in again. I heard him gurgle above me as he held the back of my head. And together we worked like diligent boyfriends, no longer fearing each other, breaking the wall down between queer and straight.

  The lavishness of to and fro didn’t stop for twenty minutes. I was in dick-delight as he agreed to our guy-with-guy motion. He murmured things I didn’t understand, dizzy above me. He pulled at my hair, banged my face in a careful manner, and obeyed his hearty thirst for my mouthy pleasure.

  I didn’t have to tell him to pull out of my mouth before an orgasm twisted through his sculpted frame. Following a symposium of gyrations and undecipherable garbles, Teddy freed his harpoon from my oral suction, yanked on it a few times with his right hand in an up-and-down frenzy. The model grunted and groaned like a triple-X star and directed hot guy-syrup up and over his chest, ornamenting nipples, shoulders, and neck.

  To top off his moment of bliss, he maneuvered his hose against my face, slapped my right cheek with his meat, then my left cheek, and chanted, “If you tell anyone about this I’ll fuck you into next week.”

  Problem four: I was a total gossip-whore about everything. If you wanted a secret kept, you didn’t tell Evan Donnelly. So, in truth, I told Stan Maleski about my gig with Teddy in my briefs. I told Paul Showendale, Jake Jonowsky, Sam Carlton…and ten other guys. Oops, my bad.

  (Click: I photographed him jerking off in his bed with his legs spread apart and his nine-inch spike aiming at the dorm room’s ceiling. Teddy was unaware that I was snapping pictures of his work: Stroke 29-covered palms shifting wildly up and down on his tool; hips rising and falling on his mattress; perspiration clinging to his abs and nipples and forehead ; man-sap jetting out of his veined spike and pooling on his chiseled, model-boy chest.)

  I was out of briefs by the end of two weeks. Teddy invaded my private drawers on a daily basis and sported the cotton with all smiles, which prompted problem five: rumor had it that Teddy in my briefs turned wild, coveting the Yullin Yellowtail swim team and sweaty wrestlers, enjoying Bobby and Brian York, twins from Memphis, and whomever else he could nail.

  His sexual antics were crazy to realize: taking on three guys at the same time at a frat house; jerking dudes off in the showers; blowing Sammy Aster and Zach Marlin in their shared dorm; filming his sexual escapades and broadcasting his scenes on the Internet; making money from a few of his male-connected-to-male gigs and…

  In reality, the briefs had to be taken away from him because he had spiraled out of control. No longer was he a quiet Mormon boy with manners from Salt Lake City, Utah. Teddy was now a needy and frisky man-on-man machine. I had pummeled him into that position…and now I had to get him out of it.

  Jealousy found me. How dare he go on a sexual rampage? Who had he turned into? Why?

  Truth was, I didn’t want to share him with anyone. His flesh was mine…and no one else’s. He belonged to me. He was my model. My subject. All mine.

  (Click: I photographed him eating his own cock-sap after he jacked himself off. One fingertip…two fingertips…three fingertips were lathered in his own thick cream and entered his mouth. He sucked on them up to their first knuckles as if he were a porn star, enjoying his model role. And following his sucking and cleaning and sucking again, he licked his lips, starting with his bottom one first, rolling his tongue from right to left, and then the upper lip, finishing his rolling from left to right and...)

  “I want all of my briefs back, Teddy,” I implored, threatening him with cockeyed brows and a serious tone in our dorm room, ready for battle.

  “What for?” His rakish smile melted me. Dammit, why’d he have to smile like that?

  “You have a problem wearing my briefs. You’re a chronic brief abuser.”

  He shyly shook his head and shared, “The rumors aren’t true. I’ve been a very good boy.”

  “You deny fucking half the wrestling team?”

  “I do.”

  “What about the York twins?”

  “I don’t even know the York twins.”

  Problem six: my eight inches of boner was snug in my Rufskin workout shorts and it wanted to be played with, sucked, jacked off, or consumed by a hot ass that just happened to look like Teddy’s. I wanted/desired/needed my roommate more than any other man in my life. And nothing was going to stand in my way of having him.

  The model moved up to me, locked his chest to my chest, and breathed me in. Before I could back away, my eyes connected with him, I felt his tongue on my cheek and then on my neck. Teddy clamped his lips to my lips, pulled me to his naked and ripped torso, and caused me to feel perplexed, unsure of the moment, but safe against him, unharmed.

  The kiss lasted for two minutes. Tongues tangled as we shared guy-saliva. Eventually he pulled off and away, leaned his forehead against mine, kept his glare locked to my glare, and stated, “Don’t blame me for being out of control, Evan. I’m new at this and it feels right. I’ve put a lot of trust in you and...”

  I touched his chest with a palm, flush against his heart, and chanted, “You’re so naughty.” />
  “But I like to be naughty.”

  “Of course you do. Maybe it has nothing to do with the briefs, right?”

  He gave me a look of discontent. “It has everything to do with the briefs. I’ll tell you what, I know about your pictures of me and how you think I’m your model. You give me copies of your pics and I’ll give you your briefs back.”

  “You know about the pics?”

  “Fuck yeah.”

  “You just want copies? I still can keep them?”

  “I wouldn’t dare take your pleasure away from you, Evan.”

  “That’s hot.”

  “I am hot, aren’t I?”

  I didn’t have enough time or control to escape his spell or answer his question because he quickly removed my T-shirt and jeans, dropping them to the dorm room floor. He kissed my chest with his opened mouth, tasted my salty skin, and devoured my right shoulder blade. I felt his tongue against one of my underarms, against my ribs, next to my navel, and then he fell to the floor, bare knees on hard wood, and cupped his lips over my briefs.

  I was growing hard against his mouth. Five inches grew into six inches…seven inches…and then into eight full inches. A throbbing mass twitched in front of my torso, all by itself, welcoming Teddy’s gratification.

  As expected, the model dove onto me and plunged my plug into the back of his mouth, gagging on my shaft. In doing so, he rolled his fingertips up and down my perspiration-covered chest, driving my skin crazy. He slurped at my cock, slobbering over its capped head, totally enjoying himself. Festively, he pulled me toward his face, pushed me away with delicate force, and pulled me toward him again. He digested my skin with ease, pleasuring himself, inch after inch, and mumbled insignificant foibles.

  Naughty was the understatement of the year. Teddy was pleasurably wicked with his tongue and sucking. I felt walloped by his lust, windblown and merry next to his skin. My eyes rolled into the back of my skull as my breathing intensified. I couldn’t help but to clamp my hands to the back of his head and assist him. Our sexual stride and mellifluous muttering became synchronized. Like a good roommate I bounded into his mouth, certain to delight the both of us.

  Before blowing my sticky load too soon, though, I was spun around by his unstoppable palms. My last pair of briefs were tugged free from my skin. And Teddy—no longer angelic, moral, and decent—pushed me to his bed and pried my bottom open with fingers and…

  “Your tongue…use your tongue on me, dude.” I couldn’t help myself, longing for our flesh to link/collide/meet.

  Like all fairy tales with believable, rising action, and like all fairies with just the right sprinkling touch of gay magic, Teddy dotted his tongue to my center. A quick dab and lick drove me wild. Another speedy tongue movement caused me to call out his name. A third connection required a gasp and moan. And a fourth embarked on the words, “Use your cock, man.…I can’t wait any longer.”

  (Click: I had a variety of photographs that proved Teddy pushed things into his bottom: two dildos, extended fingers, a wooden broom handle, numerous butt plugs, an assortment of beads, a screwdriver handle. Occasionally, he would spread his legs and supply his taut bottom with some dick-jolting ass pounding. Truth was, those were my favorite pictures of the model, ones that caused me to wrap my own steady palms around my hearty pole and take advantage of my skin, shooting many loads onto my...)

  Lust was how many inches a guy entered my behind on the first crack. Teddy was totally into me, since he pressed all nine inches of his condom-covered rod into my bottom.

  I became anxious beneath his weight, pressed to the edge of his bed. And feebly I closed my eyes because of his titanic girth and length and gritted my teeth in contentment. I clamped palms and fingers onto the bedspread in sheer amusement, pained but in deep hunger for his body inside mine.

  Problem seven: No longer was he the Mormon boy-reticent, since he lightly spanked me while plunging his cock into me. My roommate released all nine inches, plummeted them inside me again, and continued that necessary movement for the next fifteen minutes, plowing my pink canal with bliss and stamina. The supposedly shy and straight guy was all over me, inside me, behind me. He licked my back and shoulders, thumping my rump. And in an unruly approach, heaving for breath, colliding avidly with my core, he grabbed onto my hips and drew me close to him for one last rhombic and fiery bolt. Behind me, he confessed, “Ready or not…we’re going to cum,” and pulled out of me.

  Before he exploded I was flipped over. My eight inches of tool was pressed firmly against Teddy’s tool, his hand wrapped around their muscled lengths and hearty widths.

  Twinkle-eyed, handsome, and charming, he peered down at me with a glowing smile and recommended, “Let’s cum together, Evan.”

  I was in no position to object, of course, and whispered, “Hell yeah.…Bring it on.”

  Numb beneath his touch, he worked the tools in an attentive and detailed manner. No longer was he rushed and spirited to burst his load. His stroking was calm and relaxed, unhurried and just right. Our cocks’ skins kissed, up and down, over and over. His reduced motion seemed to top off the moment, prolonging our sexual agreement. Ardently he moved his right hand north and south, rotating our cocks as he smiled down at me. And majestically I fell under his spell, hypnotized with the parallel movement, wanting to continue it…until the end of the semester.

  “It’s cumming,” he whispered.

  “I’m with you,” I offered.

  Together we held air in our lungs, failed to breathe, and turned pale. Together we bucked our hips in a generous and timely fashion. And together we gyrated and blew our creamy sap upward, six inches or more, watching the droplets explode like fireworks and twirl down to my chest, his hand, and our rods.

  We found air simultaneously, eager to breathe again, spew-free. Hovering over me, his weight collapsed against my own and he began to laugh. And, in his arms, post-sexed, heaving for breath, I listened to him confess, “Tomorrow should be interesting, Evan.”

  “Why’s that, Teddy? You’re giving my briefs back, right?”

  He held my face in his palms, dotted a kiss to my nose, a cheek, my neck, and breathed in my sweet-sticky-salty skin. He supplied, “Not a chance…I’ve decided to keep them…and you.”

  “You’re sexually untamed,” I admitted with a smile, happy to be in his company.

  “You like untamed.”

  And I laughed, holding him close, knowing he was right, and he was mine…all mine.

  Problems solved.

  STILL LIFE WITH PHILLIP DELANEY

  Connor Wright

  I tried real hard to hold still, but it wasn’t easy. My left foot was all pins an’ needles, my arms were tired from holdin’ myself up, an’ my feet an’ my hands an’ my ass were all cold. Why’d I ever say yes to replacin’ Ginger as the model for this life drawin’ class anyhow? I mean, ’sides from the fact that Ginger’d done me a handfulla favors over the last few years an’ I kinda owed her at least one.

  “All right, time,” the lady at the front of the room, Miss Jenkins, said, an’ I finally relaxed a little. Notta lot, though,’cause if I relaxed too much I’d be showin’ off my bits an’ pieces an’ I didn’t wanna do that. She told me I wasn’t s’posed to, anyhow, an’ I didn’t wanna piss her off.

  “If you’d please change position, Mr. Delaney?”

  Thank God. “Okay,” I said, an’ shrugged at her. “Whattya want me to do, now?”

  “Um…” She thought about it, then pointed at the wooden box I was layin’ on. “Just stretch out on your side, please. And mind your, er…”

  I minded my er an’ did as Miss Jenkins asked. At least I was gettin’ paid for takin’ my clothes off an’ lettin’ people draw me naked. It was easier work than what I usually did, an’ I even kinda liked it—I usually got to see what people drew an’ there were some real artists in the class.

  There was also this guy. There he was again, sittin’ in the back, all bundled up in a coat an’ hat an’ even
a scarf, hunched up an’ drawin’. He never let anybody see any of his pictures, an’ he always left right after my time was up. It was weird, but I’d figured out that mosta the art students were kinda weird, so I didn’t think too much about it.

  As I was layin’ there, listenin’ to the scratchy sound of people drawin’ me—it sounded like a buncha mice, really—I wondered what Benny was up to. Whenever I asked him, he just said he didn’t do a whole lot, just read or spent time with the guys or somethin’.

  I couldn’t think about Benjamin Summers too much, couldn’t think about the way he looked when he smiled or how he kept our place all tidy or even just the way he smelled, while I was sittin’ around bein’ somethin’ to draw. If I did, Miss Jenkins’d prolly throw me out an’ call the cops, an’ that woulda been even worse than just gettin’ thrown out.

  Finally, while I was tryin’ to decide if I wanted to try countin’ to a thousand by three-and-a-halfs, Miss Jenkins clapped her hands an’ said, “All right! Time to take a few minutes to rest. Thank you so much, Mr. Delaney; you’ve been so helpful tonight!”

  “It ain’t a problem,” I said, sittin’ up an’ tryin’ to remember what I did with my clothes. Oh, yeah, there they were, by the end of the box closest to the door. There was a shufflin’ noise an’ I looked up to see the guy scurryin’ outta the room like his coat was on fire or somethin’. I took my clothes an’ went an’ got dressed, then went back to the room an’ looked at the pictures for a little while, an’ then I went home.

  None of the lights were on when I got there, which was kinda strange. I figured Benny mighta gone down to the Cumberland or the boss’s office or somethin’, so I wasn’t too worried about it. Then I turned on the light in the hallway. It ain’t a real special hallway; I mean, it’s got a floor an’ a ceilin’ an’ a light an’ two walls. Tonight, though, there was a piece of paper layin’ on the floor an’ that got me upset.

  Me an’ Benny, we thump people who need thumpin’. An’ in our line of work, paper on the floor ain’t a good sign. It usually means a kidnappin’, or a killin’, or somethin’ else that ain’t nice or legal or neat an’ clean. So I went over an’ checked on it an’ found out that this paper, this one didn’t have nothin’ on it like that. No, what the paper had on it was me. Naked. It was from one of the classes I sat for, one of the early ones, ‘cause I was sittin’ kinda hunched over, tryin’ to hide my dick from everyone.