Gay Solos

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After going to bed, showered and, of course, naked, Anton had lain awake for some time. Then he got up again and fetched the hand towel from the wash-station. He placed this by his hips when he lay down. His intention was obvious. He was lying on his back, with his left hand caressing the inside of his thigh, and nuzzling up against his balls. His forefinger began stroking the adjacent testicle. His other hand was flat on his stomach. His penis lay where it had flopped, the glans between the other ball and his thigh. It was clearly stirring. The upper hand began to migrate south, stroking the sensitive skin of the smooth area between the navel and the pubic hair. He had a thick forest, but low down and with a clean upper line. When they reached the root of his phallus, he parted his forefinger and second finger, and ran this vee down to embrace the thickening shank. A few pushes, with the fingers curving down to engage with the upper scrotum, and the glans looked distinctly heavy.

As I slowly washed myself I glanced surreptitiously around at the
naked boys in the shower with me. Some of my favorites, like Tim Holzny,
I would come back to more often to watch. Teasing myself I would first
start looking at their face and then let my eyes travel down their bodies
until I found that special place they rarely revealed to the outside
world. Of course, if they happened to look over my way I would have to
immediately glance away. It was expected we would look at one another,
but intense scrutiny like mine wouldn’t be looked upon kindly. I
especially enjoyed watching the guys as they touched themselves. Sure it
was just an innocent gesture, but it still excited me.

He offered me a lift to Newcastle, for free. Well, I couldn’t afford to
refuse, could I, and he was rather nice. Looking at my thin jeans and
denim jacket, he said I’d better borrow some leathers from him, or I’d
freeze to death. So we went back to his flat. In his wardrobe he’d got
a fantastic amount of leather gear — must’ve cost a fortune.
He sized me up and chose one of those new leather jackets in green
(you know how well green suits me!).
“Strip to your T-shirt,’ he ordered.
“Here we go,’ I thought, “here comes the pre-flight entertainment.’ I
wasn’t exactly unwilling to have it off with him, but a bit nervous about
all his leather toys. I needn’t have worried, though; that wasn’t on his
mind at all.
The leather jacket fitted beautifully, like a second skin, smooth and
warm. Then he hunted for a matching pair of green leather trousers.
“I can’t get into those,’ I muttered, “they’re far too tight.’
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Charles Collins opened the note with a trembling hand. “I’ll see
you after the game”, it said. “Don’t get changed.” The note wasn’t
signed, but he knew exactly who it was from, for he had repeatedly
asked his friend Peter to go up to the barn with him after rugby. To-
day, at last, Peter had agreed, and Charles knew that the moment he
had longed for was close.

The game seemed endless; at half-time, Charles would gladly have
walked off the pitch, even though the score was level and his chances
of selection for Saturday’s match hung on the outcome. His mind was
elsewhere, however, and more than once his captain had shouted to him
“Charlie! Wake up!” as his eyes had wandered to the touch-line in
search of his friend. Every scrum seemed to bring temptation – a wan-
dering hand, the faint smell of youthful bodies. But Charles knew that
he must wait, patiently, and that it would be worth it.
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At this point I noticed that the guy across the way had pulled his
huge cock out and was stroking it in front of us! This was getting
wild!! I watched as the guy standing next to me was getting a huge
hard-on and, of course, I started to get aroused too. All of a sudden
the blonde hunk pulled his cock out and started to stroke it slowly!
I reached out and started to stroke it for him and I thought he was
going to faint from the excitement- I decided to stand up and pul
l out my member so we could stroke together and he sat down in my
arcade booth. He turned around and then pulled my cock into his
mouth; It was WILD!! here I was, running my hands through the hair
of a hunk while he was sucking my cock and we were being watched
by a man stroking his huge cock across the way!!

I remember the sound of luggage rolling across concrete as he turned. The ripple he made in time frozen on my brain, the image of his sway. I stole that parting glance and tasted the air through which he had passed, brushing against me a sweet memory. He said something, or hinted at something perhaps but only to my eyes. It was understood, the secret that can be bought between men. In the past it went unnoticed by most, but things are a bit different now. A moment cannot be held at leisure. It cannot be savored that way. The rings on his finger said leave it, but the glint in his eye begged and beckoned.
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