These stories are about men having sex with other men. If you're not into that, then too bad for you. Because these stories are fake, no one in them has to worry about safety. And stopping the action to describe Tom Brady tearing open a condom packet, pinching the reservoir to avoid bubbles, etc., really fucks with the narrative flow. If you do this stuff in real life ALWAYS wear a condom and be safe.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Red Eye -- Chapter 2

Mark managed to get to his gate just as they were about to close the door to the jetway.  Hugely relieved and out of breath, he tried to collect himself, put his hood back up, and walk like a normal person down the jetway to his plane.  But he was totally screwed up.  He was sweating.  He was buzzed.  His legs were shaky like they always were after getting fucked.  He was out of breath from running.  But he got his breath under control, situated his hoodie, and tried to be calm and collected as he boarded the plane.

"We were just about to leave without you," said the too perky by half flight attendant, an empty smile plastered across her face.  

"Well, thanks for waiting," replied Mark with a quick smile.  He didn't want a follow up comment.  He just wanted to sit down, fall asleep, and get to NY.  First class was empty except for one guy sitting across the aisle from Mark.  He had a baseball cap on, pulled low over his face, with a fair bit of dark hair coming out of the back and sides.  Mark paid him no other notice and flopped into his window seat. He pulled his hood as low over his face as it would go, leaned against the window and tried to doze off. 

Of course, that wasn't going to happen.  First the stew came by asking about a drink before takeoff.  Then there were the safety announcements.  Then the pilot came over to welcome everybody.  Then some weird noise from under the plane.  Then they pushed off.  Then the pilot came on again to say something about the plane's slot in line.  Then the stew was back with another announcement.  Then, finally, the take off.  

"Fuck," thought Mark.  "Can't we just get in the fucking sky without all this bullshit?"  He huffed and tried again to go to sleep.  Three minutes later, there's the stew again with some crap about electronic devices.  Then she's back again asking about a drink.  A few minutes later, the pilot's back on with some shit about arrival times.  Finally, Mark felt the plane level off.  The stew turned off the cabin lights, and said she'd be back later to check on Mark and the other guy in first class. She pulled the curtain closed behind her and went off to service the coach cabin. 

Mark felt physically relieved when the curtain finally closed.  He dropped his seat back, and tried to go to sleep.  He dozed of with memories of Rogers's fat cock invading his hole less than an hour earlier.  

He didn't know how long he slept, but he woke up after a while when the other guy in the first class cabin turned on his reading lamp.  With Mark's seat leaned all the way back, he was low enough that the light from across the aisle was partly in his eyes.  And the guy had moved from his window seat to his aisle seat.  Not yet fully awake, Mark took his time and, for the first time, took a good look at his fellow passenger.  First, Mark noticed that he was jacked.  He was wearing a tight gray tshirt.  He was reading a magazine, and his arm was angled in a way that showed of his phenomenal arms and shoulders.  The tshirt was stretched tight around the bulging tan muscles.  

"Nice," thought Mark to himself.  "Who are you, Mr. Sexy Airplane Man?"  The guy closed the magazine and reached over toward his window seat, apparently to look through his carry on.  His back was just as muscular as his arms, tapered neatly down to a trim waist.  The tshirt stretched to accommodate his reach, showing off a smooth patch of tan skin above his jeans.  "Yeah, you'll do," Mark thought.  The passenger leaned back into his seat, his hat still low over his face, the combination of the overhead reading light and the baseball cap shrouding his face in total shadow.  Mark licked his lips, staring at the beautiful view of this man's muscular pecs in profile over his flat stomach, with the hot arm on the side.  

He looked over while Mark's tongue was still out.  

"Oh shit," he said.  "Did I wake you up?  I didn't even think that the light would be a problem." He looked genuinely concerned.  

"It's alright," Mark replied.  His newfound lust putting him in a more charitable mood. Mark pulled his hood back and leaned forward a bit. "There's enough time to sleep later."  He reached up and turned on his own reading light. 

Mark saw a glint of reflection off of what he assumed was a smile under the guy's baseball cap.  "You're Mark Sanchez, aren't you?" the guy asked, leaning onto his elbow closest to Mark.  "I'm a huge fan."

Mark smiled.  He loved having hot fans.  "Thanks.  That's really kind of you."

"No, I mean it," said the guy insistently.  "I mean, I grew up a Steelers fan.  Always will be.  But I've loved watching you play.  You've been amazing." 

"Thanks," Mark beamed.  It took so little to flatter him.  Especially from a hot stud like this guy.  He was blushing.  And imagining what else this guy had.  

"I wondered if it was you when you got on the plane.  But your hood was down."  The guy looked up and down the aisle conspiratorially and lowered his voice.  "And I didn't think Mark Sanchez would get on a plane with a huge splooge stain on the front of his shorts." 

That was unexpected.  It hit like a ton of bricks.  What happened to flirty talk?  What happened to romance?  Mark swallowed hard, and looked down.  He had forgotten that he had shot his own load all over his shorts while Rogers was fucking him.  He was suddenly really embarrassed.  

"But then I thought to myself," continued the other passenger before pausing.  He was clearly staring right at Mark, even though his face was still covered.  He was leaning more than halfway across the aisle.  Mark was looking down, looking out the window, not really sure what to do. "I thought to myself. If that is Mark Sanchez.  Then I can only imagine it was some incredible stud's load on his shorts."  The guy leaned back into his seat and picked up his magazine, pretending to go back to reading it.  "And I figured: if I were Mark Sanchez.  And if I had just gotten off with some incredible stud.  Then I would probably not mind walking around LAX with a huge splooge stain on my clothes.  You know?"

Mark didn't know what the fuck to make of this.  He was embarrassed.  And turned on.  And nervous.  He didn't have a clue who this guy was.  But he had fallen silent.  If he knew nothing else, Mark knew he wanted to find out where all of this was headed.  "Well," Mark's voice failed him.  His mouth was a little dry.  He tried again.  "Well, the joke's on you," he said, putting on the best cocky/charming grin he could muster at the moment.  "It's my cum."  He stared at the other passenger, waiting to see his reaction.  The guy closed his magazine.  He nodded his head a few times, clearly trying to figure out what that statement meant. 

"So... what?" the guy was at a loss.  "You were jerking off in the bathroom and just had an unlucky shot that landed down between your ankles?" the guy took his hat off and ran his hands through his medium length hair, a terribly confused look on his face. 

Mark recognized him immediately.  Mark had been watching True Blood since it first started.  He was a huge fan.  And he loved the hot studs on it who were always showing skin.  But the hotness quotient had gone through the roof in the third season when the writers added Alcide, the werewolf.  The first time he showed up, Mark had paused his DVR to google this fucking stud Joe Manganiello who's perfect body was on display all season.  God bless the writers, he had thought to himself, for making such an incredible stud play a supernatural character whose supernatural nature required frequent nudity.  Mark had been jerking off imagining this stud for a long time.  This development changed everything for Mark.  

"Or maybe you just grabbed them in the dark after you had used them as a cumrag yesterday?" Joe tried.  He was really confused. 

"Well," Mark said, leaning across the aisle, putting on a real cocky/charming grin this time, "you see, they were off because I was getting fucked.  They ended up underneath me."  He started right at Joe, waiting to see his reaction.  

"Oh yeah?" said Joe, suddenly quiet, staring right back at Mark. "When was this?"

"Why do you think I almost missed the flight?"

Joe's eyes widened and his mouth fell partway open.  "For real?"

"Yeah," said Mark, newly proud of the fucking Rodgers had just given him.  

"And you're already horny again?" asked Joe, raising an eyebrow as he turned his gaze down toward the obvious tent in Sanchez's shorts. 

"I've wanted you for a long time now, Alcide," said Mark with a shit eating grin on his face.  "Of course I'm horny again."  

The curtain parted with a loud swish as the stew came up into first class from the coach cabin.  Joe and Mark did their best to act normal, but it must have been clear to the stew that she had interrupted something.  

"You two doing alright?" she asked.  "Can I get you anything?"  Joe and Mark both said they were fine, thanks.  "Well I'm going to go back to the service area and talk to the girls for the rest of the flight.  You just hit the call button if you need anything, okay?"  With another swish of the curtain, she was gone.  

Joe reached up and turned off his light.  Mark did the same.  Joe was on his feet into the aisle in a flash.  Mark was impressed with how tall Joe was.  He looked tall on TV, but, Mark had figured, everyone on TV's short.  So maybe Joe's 5'11" or even 6'.  Mark was shocked, and fucking turned on, to see Joe stand up his full 6'5" of height.  

"Slide over here," Joe said, still standing in the aisle.  Mark moved into the aisle seat.  Joe looked back toward the curtain, and in the gap between the curtain and the bulkhead he watched the stew walk away from them down the aisle.  Still watching through the edge of the curtain, Joe took one hand and unbuttoned his jeans.  He wasn't wearing any underwear.  And Mark didn't need to be told what to do.  

Mark reached into Joe's jeans and wrapped his hand around his half hard cock.  It was thick even though it was still somewhat soft.  Mark pulled it out and dove onto the cut head.  Joe got hard in an instant, stretching out to at least eight inches.  Mark happily buried his nose in Joe's pubes, and felt Joe's cock lodge itself in the back of his throat.  Joe put a hand in Mark's curls and thrust his hips, testing Mark's gag reflex.  

"Yeah, that's it boy," said Joe in a husky whisper.  "Take that dick like you want it."  He reached down with his other hand and pulled his jeans down a little more to let his meaty nuts roll out.  As he thrusted his now fully hard nine inch cock down Mark's throat, his nuts slapped softly against Mark's chin.  Mark was moaning deeply at the oral invasion he was getting.  "Be quiet," scolded Joe, looking back down the aisle through the crack between the curtain and the bulkhead, worried someone would come investigate.  "Enjoy my big cock quietly."  As Mark quieted down, the only audible sounds were Mark breathing through his nose when Joe pulled a couple inches out, and a soft slap of heavy flesh against Mark's chin when Joe thrust back in.  Joe settled into a slow and easy rhythm, his hand on the back of Mark's head, and his eyes regularly keeping an eye on the curtain.  

"Good," whispered Joe.  "That's real good.  You like that big cock, don't you?"  Joe looked down at Mark. 

Mark looked up at Joe's face.  "Mm hmm," he quietly moaned.  The corners of his mouth turning up in the best smile he could manage with a thick cock in his mouth.  

"Such a pretty face," said Joe with a smile as he ran a thumb down Mark's cheek, causing Mark to close his eyes and shudder quietly.  "It looks so good with a fat cock sliding in and out of it."  Mark moaned again as Joe kept up his easy rhythm.  Mark slid his shorts down over his raging hard cock and started stroking his seven and a half inches. "Switch with me," Joe whispered, pulling his dick out of Mark's mouth.  

Mark slid his shorts all the way off and stood in the aisle.  Joe peeled off his shirt and dropped his jeans to his ankles as he took the seat.  With one hand jerking his raging cock, Joe grabbed Mark's cock at the base and slid the foreskin up over his flared head.  Joe ran his tongue under the foreskin and tasted some sweet precum underneath.  He grabbed Mark's balls firmly, and dove down the whole length of Mark's cock.  Mark ran his hands of Joe's shoulders and arms, loving the smooth muscle.   Joe's mouth was hot, deep and wet.  And it felt like heaven to sink his cock into the stud's throat.  Mark threw his head back and let out an audible moan.   

"Quiet!" scolded Joe in a whisper before going back to work on Mark's cock.  After getting it good and wet, he pulled off.  "So who was fucking you?" he asked as he looked up at Mark as he kept sucking his cock. 

"You won't believe me," whispered Mark with a smile, putting his hand on the back of Joe's head and guiding him a little deeper onto his cock.  

"Try me," Joe responded, able to successfully back off his cock long enough to ask the question.  He released Mark's balls and snaked his hand back to Mark's hole.  

Mark let out an involuntary moan a the jolt of pleasure he felt when one of Joe's fingertips found his hole.  "Um... it was Aaron Rogers . . . uhhnnngh," said a now breathless Mark as Joe sank his finger into Sanchez's hole.  His mouth still full of Mark's cock, Joe swirled his finger around in Mark's hole and then pulled it out. 

"So you're telling me that my finger just swirled around Aaron Rogers's cum, which is still in your ass, because he just fucked you, apparently bare, in a bathroom at LAX?"  Joe was incredulous, and his cock was red and throbbing as he awaited an answer. 

"Yep," said Mark.  Joe leaned back in his seat and stroked his dick slowly, moaning quietly as every muscle in his jacked torso flexed as his hard cock oozed out a thick stream of precum.  

"So," he said looking right at Mark, "my load is going to mix with Aaron's?"  He broke into an ear-to-ear grin.  "How will you know who the real father is?" he broke into an ear to ear grin.  

"I'll have to risk it, I guess."  With that, Mark stepped into the row in front of Joe.  Thanking to himself the people who invented the first class, lie flat airline seat that leaves so much leg room, Mark braced his hands on the seat in front of him and started easing himself down onto Joe's dark red hard on. 
Joe spread his legs as best he could and slid his rock solid ass farther down the seat so his cock was lined up with Mark's hole.  Joe took the slimy finger that had been inside Mark and rubbed it around the rim of his hole. 
"Get ready for your second load, stud," said Joe before he spit in between Mark's tight ass cheeks.  He watched his big mushroom head disappear between the muscular globes and felt Mark's hole tease him.
"I've been ready for this load for years," moaned Mark as he popped the fat head in and slid down onto all nine inches in one smooth motion.  Joe let out a deep sigh of pleasure as he slid home.  Mark started to loose a full throated moan, and Joe reached up and covered his mouth.
"I told you to be quiet as you take my cock," Joe breathed into Mark's ear, his hand held firmly over Mark's mouth.  His hand in place over Mark's mouth, Joe grabbed Mark's slowly descending hip with the other and pulled the QB down to his root.  Mark's whole body tensed as he suddenly had what felt like a baseball bat buried nine inches inside him.  He swore into Joe's hand and reached a hand around to Joe's thigh to try to brace himself.  Joe swatted the hand away and thrust himself up into Mark. 
"I know you can take it, you slut. Sit on it until you relax."  Joe kept one hand tightly over Mark's mouth and the other tightly on his hip while he flexed his big cock deep inside Mark's tight hole.  "Your ass is just as good as I knew it would be," Joe whispered in his ear.  "All those big football studs love taking turns dropping seeding you, don't they?"
Mark whimpered and nodded, his body starting to get used to the big invader.  His own cock was drooling a steady stream of precum, as he tentatively started rocking back and forth. 
"I knew you could do it," whispered Joe.  "But we don't have long."  Joe started rocking his hips back and forth slowly, his big cock head sliding an inch or so with each thrust.  His big knob rubbed back and forth against Mark's prostate.  After the second thrust, he knew he found Mark's spot, because tiny goose bumps broke out all over Mark's smooth, muscular back. 
"There it is," he growled quietly into Mark's ear, his hand still over Mark's mouth.  "Get ready for this."  Joe kept his hand tight around Mark's hip, and started quickly rocking his hips back and forth over Mark's prostate.  Mark's whole body tensed anew, but Joe could tell it was different.  Mark's muscular right leg started twitching from the stimluation, and Mark's muffled moans got more insistent.  Mark reached down and tried to grab his own cock, which was streaming precum at this point.
"Hands off," said Joe as he swatted Mark's hand away from his cock.  "I'm going to fuck the load out of you," he said as he picked up his pace even more.  "And then your spasming ass is going to milk me and drain my big bull nuts."  Mark was panting into Joe's hand and both legs trembled as Joe continued his merciless assault on Mark's poor prostate.  Mark didn't know if he could take it.  His body was coursing with pleasure, as Joe's fat invader rubbed right against his prostate.  As his body tensed, he thought he would cum, and then he thought he would piss himself, and then Joe picked up the pace even more, and with a scream into Joe's mouth his whole body pulsed and his raging hard on loosed five big shots of cum without him touching it. 
"Oh fuck yeah, boy, that's it," said Joe audibly as he felt Mark's ass flutter around him with the intense ass orgasm Mark was experiencing.  When Joe felt a stream of hot cum splash onto his hand, his own cock started pulsing deep in Mark's ass, dropping stream after stream of hot cum nine inches deep in Mark's superstar ass. 
When they both caught their breath, Joe told Mark to get up.  "We don't have a lot of time.  And I don't want to have to explain to my people why I got caught balls deep in an NFL QB."  Joe reached down to the floor and grabbed the first thing he felt.  He eased Mark's ass off his cock and wiped his splooge-covered cock with Mark's shorts.  He stood up, pulled up his jeans, his still half-hard cock obscenely outlined in his jeans, and pulled his shirt back down over his rippling abs.
He stepped back to his seat, and looked over at Mark, who picked up his now completely gooey shorts.
"Good work, slut.  Twice in one day."  Joe laughed as his put his hat back on and pulled out his magazine."
Just as Mark pulled his newly splooge soaked shorts back on and sat back down, the stew opened the curtains with a swoosh.  She stopped by Joe's seat to ask him if he needed anything. 
"Oh honey, you're sweating," she said as she reached over Joe's head and opend up his air vent.  "You should have called me, and I would have come up right away if you were uncomfortable." 
"Can I get a napkin?" Mark asked sheepishly.

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