Twink jerks off

It was almost dark. I was lying on my back on a comfortable bed. Somebody
was bathing the side of my head with cold water, which felt really good. My
mouth was dry, and I seemed feverishly hot. Even in my muzzy state, I was
confused about a picture of Robert Redford which seemed to be floating a few
inches above my face. There were other pictures, too, but it was too dark to
see them, or perhaps my eyes wouldn’t focus properly.

Pete’s voice beside me broke in gently, “Thank God you’re all right. I
didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t try to get a doctor because they’d have
asked awkward questions.’

He moved sideways, and I realised that I was on the bed in the back of the
lorry cab. I felt a good deal better, and said so. Pete lifted my head and
gave me a swig of water from a bottle. I swallowed eagerly.

twinks at college sex party
“Turn,’ he grunted, having evidently finished that part of the
examination. I paused for a moment, waiting for my excitement to subside,
then turned to look at him. The sheer lust showing in his face confirmed
what I had already suspected, and the realisation of the true purpose of my
being brought in here alarmed me. This unknown man was about to have sex
with me, whether I liked it or not, and he wasn’t going to take no for an
answer.

I had always been well-known for doing the wrong thing, and I did it now.
I hit him in the solar plexus, expecting him to double up so that I could
get away. German border guards are tougher than that, as I soon found out
when he snatched his gun from its holster and hit me on the side of the head
with the butt. Dazed, I collapsed on to the bed. As he came to stand over me
I remember thinking, “This is it, you’ve had your chips, Tony.’ Then I must
have lost consciousness for a while.

Gay College Sex Party
I woke with a terrible start, wondering where I was and what was
happening. Looking up, I saw a German border guard in his uniform towering
over my chair. He must have shouted at me, and that’s what had woken me up,
because he repeated something incomprehensible. “I’m sorry, I can’t speak
German,’ I muttered, feeling rather silly and wondering what I’d done to
make him angry. Perhaps this was *his* chair?

“You are English.’ A statement, not a question.

“Yes,’ I answered quickly, “what’s the matter, what have I done?’

“Come with me, we look for drugs.’ Protesting that I didn’t have any
drugs, I was led off into a back room which was obviously used as a resting
place at night, because it had a wash basin and a hard bed in it.

As a frequent jetsetter, I have for long fantasized about this ex-
clusive club, which in reality probably has few authentic members who
have genuinely screwed their way through the stratosphere. How can you
manage to have-it-away on board a crowded airliner? Well recently I
succeeded – and how! This amazing experience happened on the top deck
of a BA 747 heading out of New York for Heathrow, with a beautiful boy
I had never met before.

I had had a hectic day getting my work completed before flying
out, got to the airport late, and consequently was glad to have got
through the airport hassle and slump into my Club Class seat. The top
deck of the 747 has a small cabin which some airlines use for first
class passengers, but many including BA, use for Business Class; there
are only 20 or 30 seats, which gives you the feeling of being in a
small, but spacious airliner. The top deck is reached via a spiral
staircase and you travel cut off from the masses on the main deck be-
low. This flight, luckily, was fairly empty so I was fortunate that
through the lottery of seat allocations, Lars, as he turned out to be
named, took up the aisle seat corresponding to my window seat and no-
body else got seated either between us or in the row on the other side
of the aisle.

“Oh, man, suck my cock…. Yeah! Feels great!”
I was stretched out on my king size bed, one hand propping up my
head, the other pulling Pete’s head down on my throbbing meat. It
was such a turn on, watching Pete’s head with the long, dirty blonde
hair, bobbing up and down on my dick. We were both 28, both gymaholics,
both 6′1″. His body was smooth. Mine was covered with a light coat
of hair. His dick was a sturdy, solid 7″. Mine was a fat, semi-cut
nine inch monster that he loved to suck on. He was gay. I was married
to a woman, but treasured our monthly session together when my wife
was out of town on business. (more…)