izmir escort izmir escort izmir escort
"Enter"a basıp içeriğe geçin

china-is-next-door-3

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Cumshots

Subject: China Is Next Door 3 Disclaimer: The following is a story of a homosexual nature and is sexually explicit. Please do not read if you are a minor or if it is illegal where you live to do so. Remember to think smart to play smart. Use protection. Today’s story is a continuation of China Is Next Door. Justin’s brother Marc has landed, and he will be spending the day with the two boyfriends. What will they be up to and what else will the day bring? If this sounds like something you wish to read, be my guest and read. If it is not, go back and look for another story to read. Help the Nifty Archive continue to provide a home for erotic fiction. Consider donating by going fty/donate.html. Thank you. ===== China Is Next Door 3 Today, I am meeting Marc Ning Zhang for the first time. After weeks of hearing about this mythic football player, he was standing here before me. He towers over me and his brother Justin who is my boyfriend. Marc is 6’4″ tall, a half foot taller than us. Justin is a smidge taller than me, but it’s hardly worth mentioning because the difference in our heights is so negligible. We can wear each other’s clothing with no difficulty. Should we ever go off and have our own lives as a couple, we’ll probably save on our clothing budget. Marc’s shoulders are broad. His form is muscular with thick arms and legs. He could be the jerk jock of your nightmares with the dominating presence he radiates if he wanted. However, his friendly attitude rebuffs such a notion. Justin’s brother wears hiking shoes and straight fit jeans. I had thought Justin’s ass was spectacular and he still us. Check out his brother though. Marc looks like he stuffed a couple of melons from a farm back there. They are not. Those are true glorious glutes. Did he stuff a cucumber in the front too? Nope. I hadn’t seen what he had down there, yet, but I could tell from the crease in his jeans that he had quality meat between his legs. His top was a tee which had the design of a horseshoe. On top, was a sleeveless hoodie in the blue and gold of UCLA. He said, “I like sleeveless hoodies. Just enough protection when I get a chill on airplanes. Plus, I look awesomely delish in this.” Marc climbs into the back and I sit next to him behind Justin. The car leaves the driveway, and down the street just a few houses down until we get to Dumont Street which is a main thoroughfare. Justin’s brother’s eyes grow wide. All the eateries he could ever desire to visit. If the window was rolled down, he probably would be leaning out the window to get a better look. A couple blocks away is the hospital which we go past to head to Joe Frank’s Diner. Imagine visiting some relative out in the countryside and eating at their place. That is Joe Frank’s. A haven of American cuisine, many of the staff have been here for years serving time-honed recipes. Justin and I enter with my fingers entwined with his. There was a bit of a wait until we were seated. Prime choice? A booth. Justin and I sit down on one side while Marc sits across from us, his legs spread wide. He opens it up the menu and peruses it as if he was a wizard studying an ancient tome. A waiter comes by and takes our drink orders. Justin and I get orange juice while Marc orders a glass of milk. Marc asks, “You’ve been here before?” I replied, “Several times. Best breakfast place in the neighborhood.” Justin said, “Just once when Baba wanted a waffle. What are you thinking about getting Jaime?” I pause and think, “Either an omelet or the eggs benedict. You?” Justin said, “Definitely omelet. Thinking about the garden omelet. Marc?” His brother replied, “The Big Joe.” That plate had two eggs in any style, two sausage links, two strips of bacon, and two pancakes. I had a feeling that he would gravitate to that item after hearing about the magnitude of his appetite. The waiter comes by and takes our orders. “I’m sure you’re brimming with questions about me?” I told Marc, “Yup. I tried asking Justin and most of the time he would say…” My boyfriend finishes, “…wait until Marc gets in. You can ask him then. He had a way with words. You’ll get a kick out of how he talks.” In the weeks I had known Justin, I had only been in his room a few times. This morning’s suckoff in his room was one of those instances. Celebrating his birthday by having dinner at his house, was the only other time I got to visit his room. His parents were adamant that if we were going to study together, it had to be out in the open under their close supervision to make sure that we were not going to be a couple of goof-offs. I was not their son, but they were just as strict with me as they were on Justin. Sometimes, there would be strict prompts in Mandarin directed at the two of us. Justin said I shouldn’t feel that learning his primary language was a requirement to continue our relationship, but I was starting to pick up a few words here and there. I didn’t need translation to know that she wanted us to keep attentive to our homework, but her tone and the circumstance contributed greatly to helping me understand. If we met his parents’ expectations, we were each rewarded with a couple of lemon sandwich cookies. I didn’t disappoint them, and I thanked them in Mandarin also if we were successful. I was not going to be a stereotype. Mom was the valedictorian of her graduating glass. I may not be a five-star student like her, but I did well enough in class. I never have earned anything less than a B. On Marc’s side of the room, football and fitness were dominant interests. He also had an undisputed interested in women. Opposite of Marc’s bed, there was a poster of a curvaceous model. He could lay in bed and bask in her radiant sexiness. Meaty hand travels downward. Meaty hand fidgets with the fly of briefs. Meaty hand wraps around the fleshy pole. Meaty hand goes up and down until Chinese fireworks of a different sort go off. He enjoyed food a lot and had a collection of to-go menus in addition to the one for the great uncle’s restaurant. He enjoyed 80s action movies such as The Running Man and Robocop. The cheesier, the better. On a dedicated shelf, he had a collection of movies Besides these, he was fixated on horses. The horses. Besides football and fitness, his interest in horses was equally potent. He didn’t have many books, but those featuring equines dominated those he had. I asked, “You like horses?” Marc asked, “Sure do because I’m a horse. I’m serious. I was born in the year of the horse, but it’s more than that. I was supposed to be born a horse. I’m joking on that end, but I might as well have been. Look at me and keep that in mind when you really see me later today. Somebody on the assembly line was making a horse when they were told they were supposed to be putting a human together. They didn’t want to trash the work they had done, so they slapped the necessary human features onto the body and called it a day.” He makes a goofy smile and snorts in laughter. Justin was not kidding. His brother had an interesting way of expressing himself, “I watch the Triple Crown races every year and I even took lessons at a center several years ago. I had to put up with a couple of snot snobs who thought they were better than me. All they ever saw me as was the Chinese restaurant busboy or delivery man.” His face becomes one of restrained bitterness. He returns to being upbeat, “Overall, I did enjoy my time there. I am not afraid to admit that I’ve often dreamed about being a horse: run with a herd, breed as a stallion, and so on.” The plates of food arrive. He asks for a bottle of hot sauce and dabbles the over-easy eggs. We all dig in while Justin regales us with more tales of his equine interest, “My roommates have been great guys so far, but my Sophomore year roommate was especially memorable even if he was the type who would never be in my social circle. His name was Wyatt Morgan Homfeld. Now there was a hard nut to crack.” Marc said that his roommate was the nerd to his jock. “Not that there’s wrong with being a nerd. It took him a while to find out that I had no problem.” Justin’s brother explained that for the first two weeks together as roommates, they had hardly exchanged any words beyond names and hometowns. The only additional information they were aware about each other was that Marc played football and Wyatt’s parents were aficionados of the time of the American frontier. The rest of his siblings also had names taken from famous people of that period. “This” profiling his body as a game show model highlighting that brand new car “intimidated him. I’m not that kind of jock. I have better things to do with my time. Like taking care of these guys” he flexes his arms one at a time to show off his thick biceps “than mess with those my kind usually look down upon. Besides, it’s uncool.” Justin’s brother sighs in reflection, “I couldn’t help his past, but I could help his present. We were very different. I had football and my buddies. He had his selective interests and similarly shunned friends. We eventually had our first meaningful conversation when he found out that I was a genuinely nice guy I had discovered that he drew. These were not stick figure stuff, but fabulous illustrations worthy of the finest fantasy novels. Almost all his drawings were fantasy and sci-fi. He also did anthros. I came back to the room one evening and I found him on his bed surrounded by his art. He tried to hide what he had and when he couldn’t do that, he begged me to not destroy his drawings. Why would I? Top notch work like that? Give me a break. So, I ask him if he’s ever drawn centaurs before. He looked up timidly optimistic and shows me a sketch pad that had one. Awesome stuff. I ask him if he’s ever done commission before. He hadn’t before because he was too shy to advertise. He said that people would think he was a weirdo. I didn’t think so and so I told him of my interest in horses. I asked him to turn in me into a centaur. I got exactly what I wanted. Over the next several days, he labored and at the end, he showed me the results: a wonderful illustration of myself as a magnificent centaur stud. Hot, but not over-the-top explicit.” Marc paused and took out his phone to show us its wallpaper. There he is, a shirtless Marc Ning Zhang with his classic mullet. His horse half, covered in black fur, melds quite well with his human half. There he is in the middle of a field, galloping forward. His alternate self is shown at an angle so that most of his body can be seen. A noticeable equine sheath between strong hind legs. “If some great being whisked me away to some fantasy land and told me I had to be some being other than human, I’d say yes in a heartbeat to becoming a centaur.” He puts his phone away “You two could join me. We could be handsome centaurs together.” He then continues to eat. I had never thought much about horses because I had only seen them a few times. Blog İçerik Tabanlı Sosyal Ağı Sitesi Once was during a parade, another time was when we went on a buggy tour when we went to New Orleans, then there was the time that Dad and I went on a guy’s day out to go see to a Civil War reenactment. Although Marc has told us all these things, mainly for my benefit since Justin has heard this story before, he has continued to eat at the same pace as us. Since we ordered smaller meals, we finished before him. The check comes and we pool our money together to pay for our meals and Marc’s. As we head out, Marc pauses as the welcome counter and asks if he could have a paper menu to take home. The greeter smiles and hands him a menu. Marc accepts it and takes great care to not damage it so he can add it to his collection. Our next errand is getting Marc to the DMV. It’s a bit of backtracking because we want to show him Saint Dominic, our high school. Emblazoned on the front of the announcer’s box is our logo: a knight with shield on one hand and raised sword in the other. The word Defenders is beneath. Our football field faces the street and standing next to the scorecard are placards heralding our state championships. It had enraptured his attention. We could almost see the raucous cheers emanating in his head. “You got anyone of those restaurant contest places? The type where you finish the meal quickly and it’s free?” I turned to him, “Uncle John’s Steakhouse. Home of the Uncle Jack Challenge. Eat the 72-ounce steak made to order, salad with choice of dressing, baked potato, and roll within an hour. If you beat it, you get an exclusive tee and you get your picture taken for the wall of fame. Entry fee is $50 but it’s refunded if you win.” Marc’s practically drooling over the prospect. The DMV is business as usual. Fill out forms, waddle through the line until you are at the front, give form with all documentation, and so on, and so on. The process takes a few hours, and it seems that a few clients use the opportunity to check him out. He seems to be aware of the looks. He appears used to these gazes and does not mind. He accepts the temporary license and will wait to get his permanent when he comes back to town in about a month. “Dudes? I’m hungry again. How about you?” Marc speaks up and Justin looks up, “Right on time, eh?” Marc places his thick hands behind his neck, “Eat like a horse. Piss like a horse. It’s the credo of Marc Ning Zhang.” I wasn’t planning on having lunch, so I need to make a quick decision. I lean forward to Justin, “Levine’s Deli.” I turn to Marc, It’s Tobi Weizmann’s favorite sandwich shop.” Marc put his hands back to his side, “He’s your teammate, right?” Justin nodded, “Yup and a computer wizard also. My computer was on the fritz last month and I called him up. Not only did he fix it, but it runs better now than it did before its mishap.” Levine’s Deli is somewhat packed. The lunchtime crowd was starting to filter out. I order a tuna melt and Justin has the smoked salmon while Marc orders a pastrami. Marc asks, “What’s this I hear about our family having dinner with yours Jaime?” Justin is clueless, “I haven’t heard anything. Jaime?” I looked at my boyfriend and said, “My dad said it was a surprise.” Marc nods, “Same with me. Dinner is at our place but your family’s bringing salad, a fruit salad, and an apple tart. I’ve heard it’s one of the best.” That was true. Mom loved making tarts and they were as cherished as the cookies she made during the Christmas season. Too bad these treats were sparingly made on account of their status as dessert items.” Thoughts of sweets are banished as our food comes in. After our meal and payment, Marc collects another menu. We leave and it was about 2pm when we got back. Justin’s brother added the menus to his collection and exchanged words in Mandarin with his brother before providing me with the translation, “Gym time bros.” He digs into the closet that he shares with Justin and gets out a drawstring backpack. In goes a jockstrap, a tank with a spiral pattern, and gym shorts. Justin also gets his gym stuff. I don’t need to get ready as I had my bag already prepared. There it sits on Justin’s bed. This time, we take Marc’s jeep because he wants to become familiar with the area. Especially when it is concerning the gym. The Zhang brothers are in the front, and I sit in the back. Justin shows him the way to the gym. We get out and he looks it over, “Home sweet away from home.” Before the move, he chose to enroll in a higher priced membership so he could work out anywhere in the country at other locations. All he needed to do was update his billing address. Next stop, locker room. Next stop, jaw drop lane. Justin shows his brother our favorite set of lockers and Marc begins taking off his clothes. I know I shouldn’t leer at this football stud. What would Justin say if he knew I was looking at his brother like that? Curiosity gets the upper hand, so I look. It is brief, but still an eager look. That thing between his legs couldn’t possibly be real, but it was. Marc’s uncut Chinese cock was larger than Justin’s which was larger than mine. His nuts were equally prodigious. Hung like a horse indeed. Jockstrap, shorts, tank, he’s all set. He reaches inside his shorts to adjust himself. His eyes scan my naked form before I also get dressed. A discreet compliment, “Looking good. I was worried my brother was going to be without a workout partner since Dad doesn’t do gym beyond the treadmill, bicycle, and the pool.” We head into the gym and many eyes are on Marc. He is a stranger, but they could tell that he was someone special. He looked familiar, but where had they seen him before? No one asked and he didn’t advertise that he was one of the best defensive ends in the country playing college ball. We do warm up exercises before we make use of the machines. I am impressed while he is here in his natural habitat. Look at him work those dumbbells. Look at him pile on the weights on that barbell. That must be at least 200 pounds he’s benching. Beads of sweat on a face of pure joy. We are his spotters. As much as I would like to spot his muscles at work and the crease in his shorts which highlights his treasures, I am all business. Time to hit the showers. Marc claps our backs, “That was awesome. I enjoyed myself. How about you two?” My boyfriend and I are all smiles. I utter with cheerful voice, “Loved the display.” Justin raises an eyebrow and then smiles, “Same here.” After a quick lather and rinse, we head back to our neck of the woods. The Zhang brothers are chatty and once again, I was wanting to know what they were saying. All I picked up was the word “look”. They seemed to be giddy. Marc replies English, “Fine. Then I’ll ask him. So, Jaime? Did you enjoy yourself looking at my dragon?” Huh? I look at them, “Dragon? What dragon?” Marc looks at my reflection in the rear-view mirror, “Yup. Dragon. My cock, dick, shlong, or whatever you’d like to call it.” I am so ashamed. Which was more shameful? Marc knowing that I got a mental rise in seeing his package in all its splendid naked glory or Justin finding out. My face burned red with embarrassment. The brothers gab again in Mandarin and get a good laugh. I exclaimed at Justin, “You knew?” My boyfriend leans over and kisses my check before offering a naughty grin while Marc chuckled, “We both could tell. That’s what we were gabbing about on the way from the locker room to the workout area. You got good taste in meat. Wanna now how big it is?” Justin slyly says, “Go on Jaime. Ask. Ning’s proud of his package. I got no problem.” Is that a stiffy he has? My heart raced as I leaned forward, “How big is your cock?” Marc smiles again, “My boner is…” Justin drums his fingers on the back of the vacant seat in front of him and then his brother announces, “seven and three-quarter inches long.” Justin chortles with mirth, “They don’t call my brother Lucky for nothing. You have one seven and then you get another seven when you add the three and the four. Jackpot! Ding, ding, ding!” I had never seen Justin be this lively like this before. He had said that his brother had a lewd side and it seemed that once both brothers get together, they got onto the same wavelength. Marc asked as we pulled up into the driveway, “Have you two enjoyed each other yet?” Justin looked back at me, and I nodded. Justin said, “This morning while we were waiting for Baba to drop you off. We sucked each other off.” We got out of the jeep and headed inside. Door locked and we head upstairs. Marc asks, “Bet it felt awesome having a pair of lips go down on you. Did you go one at a time or did you get into a 69?” I knew Marc accepted Justin for being gay, but I was confused by his interest in our guy-on-guy activities. Marc seemed to pick up on my confusion. He climbs onto his bed because leaping at it would have busted it. I sit on Justin’s bed next to my boyfriend. Marc tells us he’s straight which his brother steadfastly confirms. “My buddies do nothing for me. They could all strip down to nothing and have an orgy. Bet you two would like to see all those football studs cast aside being straight to get it on together. Me? No boners here. I used to have a couple porno mags I had smuggled back home, but I had to get rid of them once we started to make plans to move. I didn’t want to have them in my room and make Wyatt feel bad by jacking off to unobtainable babes. I didn’t want our parents to find my stash either.” Marc sits up and reflects, “I had a girlfriend back home, but we broke up after being in choppy waters since we graduated because she didn’t want a long-distance relationship anymore. It took a long time to find and be with Heather. I am not just some dumb slab of meat. Okay, so I fit the himbo mold better than the brainy Asian one. But, geez. Get to know me before you want to get close and person with what I got packing here.” He grips his bulge and gives it a meaningful caress. “I like movies, music, and food as well as sports. Still, a guy had needs and sometimes a hand just doesn’t cut it. I had to get support somehow.” He began to share with us a spicy tale from last school year. ***** It had been months since Heather Barton, and I had finally called it quits. After months of our relationship circling the drain, it was over. Regardless, we parted on good terms. I first met Heather at an event that our family’s restaurant was catering. A cousin of hers was getting married to the son of a prominent financier in our community. The Bartons were equally notable because Mr. Barton was a city council member. I was helping serve food in the buffet line. Eggrolls to be exact. I am not kidding. Fat and beefy eggrolls. It was even made awkward by the fact that the tray was at the same level as my crotch. My great uncle knew I flair for cuisine Sesli Kitap Dinle and asked me to help to serve rather than just bring in the food and wait in the back until the wedding reception was over. Wei was spending the night at a friend’s house. I was all smiles as I served. Many people there knew my face. I was a Senior at Boyce High at that time and already word of my fame had traveled up and down the California coast. Talent scouts were around and there was eager buzz circulating among them as to which college I would select. I was leaning towards UCLA, but I was also thinking about playing for the Cornhuskers or the Sooners or for LSU. Heather was a Senior but she attended Morgan Prep, distinguished and pricey. It was the type of institution where students wore uniforms with blazer jackets. Here is your next generation of movers and shakers. Heather had gotten a plate just like everyone else, but she came back for an eggroll. Later, another one. Later, another one. Then, another one. Every time she visited my station, her eyes roamed up and down my body as she smiled. Was she taking off my clothes in her mind? Her gaze sent the tingles from my brain to my crotch. Thankfully, clothing and my apron shielded my budding eagerness from view. Discreetly, she passed me her phone number. I thought she was another groupie who was after my bod. It wouldn’t be the first time, but I thought I’d take a gamble. What made us click? Music. We were both fans of classic rock, heavy on the 60’s and 70’s. We did like different bands though. I preferred Creedence Clearwater Revival while she enjoyed Steppenwolf the most. It took a good while before I got the courage to tell my parents that I was dating Heather because I was afraid that they would reject my relationship with her. Being traditional and first generation, I believed that they would have a problem with me dating someone who wasn’t Chinese or even Asian. I was wrong. They liked her plenty. I made her dinner a few times which she enjoyed. In contrast, I got the impression that her parents didn’t much care for me. There were polite, but I felt they would have preferred someone else to be their daughter’s companion. We were really into each other, but sex was off the table. Even protected safe sex was off the table. So, we got our jollies by touching each other. She would slip her hand under my shirt and feel my pecs while I got rock hard fondling her boobs while we grinded against each other. All hush hush. We were supposed to well-mannered teenagers after all. The months passed and we cultivated a relationship. I ultimately chose UCLA and she was headed to Princeton. Our relationship entered a period of uncertainty. My first roommate, Roman Lawrence, was a great roomie. He was Black, a couple inches shorter than me, and was the other defensive end on the team. Truth be told, he didn’t believe me when I told him I played football. He apologized right away after we came back after team practice. Besides playing professionally, I was also considering becoming a firefighter as a career, so I enrolled in the necessary courses. Rome was studying communications with an emphasis on media technology. He knew his way with cameras and video software. He was a great roommate and friend. He enjoyed being an exhibitionist as much as I did, and we often posed in front of the mirror wearing just briefs. He was also a great jackoff buddy. We often reached into our flys to whip our dicks and have a go while watching porn on his tablet. Then there were times we’d go old school and he’d toss me one of his older brother’s mags. Sophomore year arrived and I could have been Rome’s roommate again, but I wanted to get to know a variety of people. Wyatt was far removed from being like Rome. I was already in the room on the day we met each other. There was a knock at the door, and I heard the door unlock. He looked me and then at room number the plaque next to the door. It was clear that he thought he had the wrong room or I was on the wrong room because he asked, “Marc Zhang?” I placed my arms behind my neck and proclaimed, “The one and only Great Wall.” Maybe that was the wrong thing to do because his eyes twitched. He was scrawny and short while I was tall and massive. He was shy and I was outgoing. He was the type of guy that bullies would love to target. Getting to know him was challenging. Beyond the good mornings and the good nights, he hardly said anything. Even then, he was very demure when he spoke. I didn’t want to change roommates and I admired him by his perseverance by mine. We had our first breakthrough a couple weeks into the semester when I came back to the room after an intense workout. I opened the door and I found him on his bed with colored pencils. His back was turned to me. He had earbuds on, and he was so focused on what he was doing until I passed within his vision and asked what he was drawing. He was scared and startled. He tried to gather his illustrations in a way that was quick and would prevent me from seeing his work. Not a very good attempt and some of his pages fell on the floor. I picked up some of the pages and thumbed through. Here was a minotaur playing a lyre, there was one depicting a humanoid gorilla with a headset while playing a video game, then one with an anthropomorphic jaguar in a wrestling singlet. I found winged horses, dragons, fish people, robots, and more. My roommate found his voice as he pleaded, “Please Marc. Don’t tear them. Please give them back.” I sat next to him and passed the pages after I looked at all of them, “You did these?” A nod. “These are pretty good. Got any centaurs?” He reaches for another pad and slowly passes it to me. I carefully turned the pages and found centaur. I studied the male. Wyatt’s depiction was excellent. The male’s chest was toned, and his horse half was just as well crafted. I lost myself in my imagination. I imagined it was my face and my torso instead of the human half. I gave it back to him, “Do any commissions?” He looked up at me and confessed, “No. Never. I’ve been afraid to advertise because I thought they wouldn’t like my stuff. Do you want me to do something for you?” I reached into my wallet and gave Wyatt $35, “How about this for your first?” He looked at me, “I’ll do it. Could I start now? Um? Pose?” I was excited, “Sure.” I would never waste an opportunity to show off what hard work and nature graced me with. I leapt off the bed and pulled my shirt off. He took out his phone and snaped several pics of my chest, arms, and back so the product could be accurate. My exhibitionist mindset descended on me. I began to flex my arms and feel my chest. I wanted the artwork to be as accurate as possible. Wyatt certainly got my image accurate. He took great care and gave me a colored illustration, digitally done. I doubt there was no one I knew of who could do better. “I liked drawing you. I mean I liked drawing for you.” I thought it was some slip of the tongue, but it wasn’t. He was attracted to me, but I was too blind to see it. I assumed that he was looking at my bare torso because he was curious about my physique. He had confessed that the reason why he was shy around me was because he was taunted by bullies for years and my physique brough back uncomfortable memories. My vivacious personality didn’t help. He apologized and I told him to forget about it. What I didn’t know was that he had the hots for the same body that he was wary of. I didn’t know he was gay until I returned to the room after a late evening of working out at the gym. I saw him fapping away to the same pictures and videos he took of me. Yet here he was looking at his computer screen with dick out, pleasuring himself, while looking at me and other pics of studs that he had downloaded. Wyatt froze and stared at me until his shock went away and he scrambled to stuff himself back into his shorts. It broke my heart hearing him trying to come up with excuses. There was nothing to be ashamed of. I knew I was hot stuff. Guy or gal, it didn’t matter to me who got off looking at me like that. I motioned with my hands to call for timeout and sat next to him, “Hold on. There’s nothing to be ashamed about being gay. I know someone back home who’s gay. He’s still in the closet as far as I know. I’m the only one who he’s into guys.” Wyatt didn’t ask who this guy and said, “That makes me your second because no one else knows. Promise not to tell? I replied, “Sure. I haven’t told anyone about the dude I know. Just a secret between us until he decides it is time.” I would support my brother no matter what when he chose to come out. Wyatt looked at me. He flexed his fingers as if he was an adventurer and I was the treasure which could be booby trapped. It appeared that he wanted to touch me and maybe do more with me. “Want a feel?” His face turned red, “You would do that for me? Even though you are straight. You are right?” I nodded, “Yes. I would even though I’m only into women. Some things to keep in mind though. First, no kissing. Second, just touching. Third, only oral if you want and I don’t return the favor. That’s all I can think of right now.” He mulls it over and nods, “Anything you want.” I nod back, “All right then, let’s get this show on the road.” I stand back up, within arm’s length, and take off my shirt. Toss that. I undo my belt and lower the zipper. Pull the jeans down and toss those. Just briefs now and his eyes are mesmerized as he sees the prominent bulge in my briefs. Wyatt reaches for it and massages it. I respond to his touch right away and cock begins its journey into erection. He grips the waistband with both hands and pulls down. Wyatt coos, “You’re big and its intact. I didn’t know Asians could be so big there.” He looks up in worry, “Sorry if I offended you by saying that.” I look down, “I’m not bothered. You’re not the first one and you won’t be the last.” He gets off the bed and looks at me all over before he decides to feel me up. Gentle nudging prompts me to flex, and he glides his fingers across biceps. He presses his hands onto my pecs and thumbs flick against my nipples. He walks behind me and fondles what Rome Lawrence once called “brotha’s booty” because he freely admitted that he thought that only other Black men could have a rotund ass like that. Hands curve around my shapely buns and he caresses them. My roommate fidgets with his shorts and he pulls them down as well as his underwear. The shirt comes off next and he’s just as naked as I. It is obvious that he is unused to being like this and he tries to shield his lesser equipment with his hands. It was disappointing, but not unexpected. Maybe someday, he would become comfortable enough to be naked around another man like this. Maybe we’ve done too much for a first time. I walk over to my dresser to get my sleep gear and pick up my briefs. He places a hand on my shoulder, Exxen “Could I suck your dick? Please?” I toss my briefs into my chair and sit on the bed. I spread my legs and begin stroking my cock and juggling my balls. I smile, “Sure. I said you could.” He walks over and gets on his knees knowing his destiny as a cocksucker draws near. He reaches for my shaft and begins jacking it. Looking up with heartfelt eyes, “Could you talk dirty in Chinese?” I raise an eyebrow, “I speak Mandarin to be specific and besides, you wouldn’t understand me.” Look at those puppy dog face he’s making, “Please?” I surrender to his kink, “Okay. For you.” I’ll gladly play the superior Han Chinese from the People’s Republic being serviced by the depraved and weak American. I reach for the back of his head and get into character, Wyatt gets the hint, and he opens wide. He maybe a newbie, but he makes it up for it with his enthusiasm. False aggression, I pantomime what I wanted, and he was very compliant. He looks up at me with blissful eyes. I haven’t had intimate contact with anyone for many months except myself. More motioning. He lets off some and his lips grip the glans while he grips the shaft. He whomps and whomps. My balls are boiling, I try to hold back, but I am failing. Now both my hands are behind his head, Jjizz and jizz. Throb and throb, I could feel his throat contract as he swallows my ball juice. He lets go and tugs as my foreskin squeezing it. His tongue catches stray semen which he consumes. My chest heaves in adulation and back in English, “That was so much fucking fun.” I look down between his legs. His penis is leaking and years for release. I pull him up and motion for him to sit next to me. Wyatt looks at me and beats away while he touches my pecs and firm abs. He starts to whimper as he starts coating the muscles he adors with his cream. I look at him, “Did you enjoy yourself?” He nodded, “Yes. Could we do this again sometime?” I pat him on the back, “You bet.” We brush our teeth and have one final piss of the day. I don’t even bother putting my sleep gear on, I just climb into bed naked, and he follows my lead. Just sheets against bare skin. Our eyes close and we sleep contently. More nights would follow where Wyatt would give me head. Sometimes in my bed, sometimes in his bed, sometimes I would be in the chair. Many times, he wanted to be simply held in my muscular arms and snuggle against my studly torso. Many nights he would fall asleep like that as if I was one of those weird pillows in the shape of man’s chest and arm. Who was I to disturb and tell him to go back to his side of the room? ***** Marc’s story was riveting. I had to undo my fly because I was getting a massive boner and it was getting cramped being cooped up like that. Justin had to let his out to breathe also. My eyes gravitated towards Marc’s crotch. What was it like to wrap lips around a cock like that? Wyatt must have been on cloud nine when he went down on that. Marc commented, “I don’t know if Wyatt is interested in learning in Mandarin because he has never mentioned it and it is his business if he wants to. At least he’s learned all the wonderful dirty words and phrases because he knew what I wanted without the need for me to translate. All I had to do was look at him and tell him in Mandarin, ” He looks into my eyes, “That means suck my cock. Yes, I mean you Jaime. I can tell. You want to wrap your sweet Mexican lips around this.” He begins groping himself through the denim before standing up and leaning against the nearby wall. Justin looks at me and walks over to the wall to be next to his brother. He too begins to massage his crotch, Marc translates for his brother and adds, “We got plenty of time.” I walk over and I pull my shirt over my head and toss it on the floor nearby. My boyfriend quips, “That’s Jaime. Show us that wonderful chest of yours.” I get on my knees and press my face into Marc’s crotch while the brothers take their shirts off which are thrown on top of mine. Justin already has his manhood out, so I turn my attention to his brother. I reach for his zipper and pull it down. I reach inside and feel the cloth, that final barrier between his flesh and my hand. I slip my hand through the fly, and I release the dragon. I look at his flaccid penis which is mere inches from my face. I wrap my hand around it and it starts hardening in praise. I open wide and I lean forward until I can go no further. Marc turns to his brother, Justin scoots in and wags his boner in my face, “Now me Jaime.” I let go and I engulf my boyfriend’s cock while I continue to jack Marc. Back and forth, back and forth. Suck one brother and jack the other. Change places. The two brothers have stopped speaking English. Lustful moans in Mandarin flow into my ears. Marc groans, Justin rests both hands on top of my head as I continue to bob up and down. He replies, Justin withdraws himself from my mouth while Marc takes my fingers off his dick. “Tilt your head back some Jaime. Close your eyes and smile.” I lean my head back and do what Justin says. Marc says, They were up to something, but I did as I was told. Seconds later, I felt warm viscous goo land on my face. Jubilant hoots in Mandarin fill my ears and then, “Open your eyes, Jaime.” I did and Jaime lifted me up to my feet. I knew what was on my face, but I wanted to see for myself. I stood up and walked to the mirror to look at my reflection. Rivulets of Chinese cum were plastered all over my face. Justin looked at me, “You’re a mess Jaime. I’ll clean you up.” He wraps his arms around my waist and start licking my face. He turns to his brother, He gets as much as he can and then uses a sock to get the rest. Marc said, “Um. Aren’t you forgetting something?” We looked at Marc in puzzlement. He then said, “What about Jaime? Aren’t you going to help him with his hardon?” I still had my unit out and I reached for it. Justin said, “I’ll do it.” He got behind me and told me to just let him take control. He grips me and whispers in my ear, “Be one with your cock. Be one with your cock.” I lean back into the arms of my boyfriend and just let him stroke me. The musk of manhood unleashed enters my nostrils and I fuck Justin’s hand. I grunt and streams of masculine leche fly out of my slit and land on the floor. As before, Justin sucks out stray semen while Marc cleans the floor. He looks up, “That was a good load Jaime for someone who’s already had an orgasm today.” He leaves to go flush the used toilet paper. He comes back and looks at his watch, “We still have about thirty minutes before any of our parents get home. Let’s toss the ball.” Marc goes to the closet his shares with his brother and grabs his football. He tosses into the air, and we follow him downstairs and into the backyard. It was a weird sensation being here in the backyard of the Zhang family next to my own backyard. We toss the football to each other while we trot around the backyard. Marc was happy and offered, “Don’t know if it’s possible while I’m here these few days, but I would love to go to the park with you guys to play before I head back. This yard is better than at our old place, but I need more room.” We decided to call it a day, but we will see each other again soon. I wave goodbye to the brothers and walk back home. I look at myself in the bathroom mirror and clean myself up so I can appear decent. Surely Justin and his brother are doing the same. I hear the door unlock. First is Mom and with minutes, Dad enters. While Mom busies herself making the apple tart. Dad and I put the salad together as well as the salad. Our offerings ready, they go wash up. We get ready and we walk next door. While we got along okay with most of our neighbors, we strove to form a close bond with the Zhangs. Our family was close with Abigail Mason, our neighbor before they moved in, and we wanted to continue that same level of friendship with those that lived next door. We all sat at the dining table which had been expanded to accommodate all of us. Justin’s parents sat across from one another. My parents sat along the length of the table, and I was between the brothers. Just like the birthday dinner I had last month, the same variety of dishes were on the table. This time though, the traditional Chinese food is accompanied by the salads we made. Off to the side on the counter is Mom’s classic apple tart. My family had eaten Chinese food occasionally, but this was the first time my parents was having the truly authentic. The Zhangs used chopsticks out of habit while my parents and I used forks. Both sets of parents got to know each other better because this was the first time both families were together in a more intimate setting. Nothing like the civic club meeting or short hellos in the driveway. Marc seemed to hit it off extremely well with Dad. Football to football player with the only differences being position and time: one being a 43-year-old former running back chatting and the other being a 22-year-old defensive end. American football was as strange to Jiesheng, his father, as it had been ever since he and his wife immigrated. Despite years of explanation and watching the game, there would always be a disconnect between father and son about the sport. Here now, at this table, was someone who he could speak with as a kindred spirit. Justin and I looked at each other. Our fingers clasp briefly occasionally. Only Marc knew why we smile. To his parents, we were just two classmates enjoying dinner with our families. If my parents realized the true reason why we were smiling, they didn’t let on. His parents were unaware as far as I knew because Justin said that he was only out to his brother. Dinner complete, the dishes are taken to the sink. Us three young men are on dishwashing duty. Justin lathers, I rinse, and Marc dries them before placing them on the rack. Mrs. Zhang brought out a carton of vanilla bean ice cream and set it next to the apple tart. Many have tried to get Mom’s recipes, but all have failed. Justin’s mom studies the tart and looks at the rest of us. She then deftly makes seven equal slices and places them in bowls and asks which of us want ice cream. Vanilla bean is one of my favorites, so I ask for a scoop. After Thanksgiving, I’ll need to scale back on the sweet stuff. A month of prudence before Christmastime. Justin stands up and picks up the bowls. He places them in the sink, and he looks at his reflection before returning to the table. He reaches for my fingers under the table and squeezes them. His eyes look at his dad on the left and they travel to the other side to look at his mother. His voice is heavy with contemplation, “Mama, Baba. I’ve been wanting to tell you this for years.” The dining room becomes muted. After a pause, “I don’t want to keep this from you anymore.” Another meaningful pause and then tells them what he has kept bottled up inside, “I’m gay.” ===== I would appreciate any comments you may have, but please keep insults or flames to a minimum. I’ll try to respond to everyone, but no promises. Please mention the title of the story so I know what you are referring to. You can email me at: hoo.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

İlk Yorumu Siz Yapın

Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak.

gaziantep escort maltepe escort erotik film izle ensest hikayeler ankara escort beylikdüzü escort esenyurt escort malatya escort kayseri escort eryaman escort pendik escort tuzla escort kartal escort kurtköy escort kızılay escort esenyurt escort ankara escort beylikdüzü escort esenyurt escort keçiören escort konuşanlar izle mersin escort kızılay escort escort ankara hack forum eryaman escort escort demetevler escort ankara escort bayan sincan escort kızılay escort rus escort tuzla escort kayseri escort gaziantep escort mersin escort şişli escort kocaeli escort kocaeli escort ankara escort kocaeli esgort almanbahis giriş almanbahis almanbahis yeni giriş almanbahis giriş almanbahis giriş isveçbahis giriş isveçbahis yeni giriş isveçbahis isveçbahis giriş isveçbahis yeni giriş kaçak bahis bahis siteleri kaçak bahis güvenilir bahis canlı bahis illegal bahis bursa escort bursa escort bursa escort bursa escort