Free Best Gay Erotica 2014 by Larry Duplechan Page A

street outside. I could see everything happening down below, but it would make a real kink in someone’s neck to try watching me. The wind blew in, shifting the dirt, screws and papers lining the unfinished floor. That, combined with the cement flooring, gave the whole thing a postapocalyptic feel. The boy looked nervous. He looked over the edge, but didn’t get near. It was a long way down.
    I leaned against a steel girder in the middle of the space. In a couple of weeks it would be the core of a wall dividing the giant room in two. “Did you come for the view?” I asked.
    He shook his head. Grinned. “I haven’t come at all, yet.”
    â€œThen get over here.” He did. The crotch of his jeans was stretched so tight that walking looked painful. Looked like he needed me to stretch him out on his back and fuck him until he shot all over himself. But I wasn’t feeling that charitable. I had some aggression to work out.
    I pulled his chin up to my face and stuck my tongue down his throat. Warm him up for gagging on me later. He let his hands wander, grabbing my ass, sliding up my shirt, reaching down to the lump in my pants. It felt good. I pushed him down so his face was near buried in it, and unzipped.
    I smiled as he stared at my cock, taking in the size of it—seven inches of cut meat, thick enough to stretch an asshole to capacity, dripping precum, so hard that it ached. I grabbed a handful of spiky, soft hair and guided his lips to the tip. He licked the head, took it into his mouth and sucked on it before swallowing the entire thing. Stubble poked at my balls. I pulled his head in closer and started to fuck his face, letting the feeling sweep over my dick. Figured he’d choke on it but the boy sucked cock like professional, opening his throat to take the entire thing, lips stretched wide as they could go.
    I leaned against the girder, hips bucking against his mouth. I could have shot my load right there and watched the cream slide down that pretty face. Instead, I pushed him off, emptying his throat all at once. He gaped for a moment, like I’d taken his pacifier away. Dick-hungry.
    I yanked him back up and grabbed one of the loose cords hanging down on us. None of it had been hooked up yet, so the wires were safe. He started to look nervous when I tied his wrists up above his head, but didn’t complain. I liked watching him endure the discomfort. He had discipline. I respected that. I pulled his T-shirt up so it hung around his hands.
    He had the torso of an underwear model: washboard abs and thick shoulders. His body hair grew thicker than expected, scattered along his chest and happy trail. It bushed out at his armpits, holding in the sweat and musk. What set him apart were the two horizontal scars running along the base of his pecs. They curved up to his armpits like anchors. I’d seen scars like that before: on marching topless boys during pride, on a go-go dancer at the club, but never this close. I ran a finger across one shiny line and watched the combative unease on his face.
    I suddenly realized what kind of boy I had with me. There weren’t many other clues. The height, sure, but some guys are short. I paced around him, looking closer. Not a woman, just another scruffy boy.
    Standing close behind him I started to rub against his ass. Grabbed it, slapped it, and let my cock push into the denim covered crack. He moaned.
    â€œDo you want my dick?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYes what?”
    â€œYes, Sir.”
    â€œThen I’m gonna need to see yours.” He didn’t answer. Iunzipped his fly and pulled out a big flexible dildo carved well enough to look real. It was circumcised, complete with a pee hole, veins and peach shading to match his skin. The thing felt warm from being pressed against his body and the material gave when I touched it—as close to real as plastic gets.
    I pulled the pants off. They were so tight I had to peel them