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The New Gym
Tim had just moved to Chicago and was setting up. He had bought a new home and was looking for a roommate. The house was huge and had 2 bedrooms, so he felt he can rent one out to earn cash on the side, like he really needed it. His parents were totally loaded and gave him more than enough money, but now that he is an adult at the age of 18, he feels he should start saving and living his own life. Tim is a very hot looking individual. He stands at 5'11", blonde hair, blue eyes and a nice pair of six-pack abs. Not to mention a hot ass that makes even the straightest men want to touch.
Well Tim was still new to the area and didn't know his way around the area. He went online and posted an ad for anybody who would like to move in with him, he also found directions to a gym near his house.
Tim packed up his gym materials in a bag and headed towards the gym. He felt that it wasn't that far away so he walked there. At the gym, he registered as a new member and took advantage of the free services. The gym offered a complimentary Speedos for swimming, towels for the sauna and the power to use the gym trainers at any time for help.
Tim asked for the assistance from any trainer and a man walked out in front of him. They shook hands and introduced themselves.
"Hi, I am Tim."
"Hello, I'm Jared. I am happy to see that you have chosen to take the special offer that we give. I will show you around and be your trainer for whenever you need me," said Jared.
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I guess it all started my senior year in high school.I was that nerdy guy with glasses that wasn't a member of anyone's clique.Well, maybe the clique of no-one-else-will-talk-to-us-so-we-might-as-well-talk-to-each-other clique. You know - your basic outcast.
I had held off taking P.E. as long as I could, until my senior year.Had to have it to graduate.So I gritted my teeth and took the damn class. And yeah, I was the kind of guy who sat in his bedroom on Friday and Saturday nights jerking off, while everyone else was out on dates. Not that I didn't jerk off every other night as well.And most mornings, and whenever else I could manage it.I loved the feeling!What a rush!
I am 5 feet 8 inches, but skinny.Reddish brown hair, that I keep kind of shaggy, trying to be with it.I don't tan well, so I am your basic freckled, pale, white-skinned kid.And I guess, from checking out porn on the web sites, my dick was about average - six and three-quarters of an inch long.I kept measuring to see if I couldn't get that extra quarter of an inch.
So any how, I was in the locker room changing.I usually waited as long as I could, so I didn't have to be seen naked by the other guys, who all looked like they came out of an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog.
The guy at the locker near mine had stripped, showered, dried off, and dressed while I was still managing to take off my shoes and socks.One of his friends called him, so he quickly stuffed his gear in his bag and ran to catch up.
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Jeff And The Yacht
The first time I remember hearing his name was in the courtyard at school. I overheard a group of giggling girls saying, "...lets hold Jeff down and rape him!".I was 16 and attending a public high school in Australia.I felt pretty comfortable in my skin, but I definitely wasn't one of the "popular" kids.In fact, I was the captain of the debating team and well known among the Drama kids.I liked to think of myself as intellectual, but in hindsight I was as clueless as any 16 yr old kid.The guy the girls were talking about was in my year - but not in any of my classes.I saw him later in the day and understood exactly why the crazed 16 yr old girls wanted him badly.
Jeff was tall, dark and very handsome.His brown hair and brown eyes might have been pretty ordinary if they hadn't been attached to his strong, muscular 6ft frame, stretched tight with flawless, silky tanned skin.He was a swimmer and it showed in his broad shoulders and solid chest and rippled abdomen.He was also one of the most popular guys in school, but not in any arrogant "football star" kind of way, but in a "regular guy" way.He seemed to be everyone's friend with his perfect and genuine smile.I was sure it would be impossible to get to know the most popular guy in school, until I learnedthe most popular girl in school was... another drama enthusiast!
"Hey Liza, are you auditioning for the School Musical this year?"Every year our school had a theater event of some kind, and to the drama kids this is what determined their cultural standing within the drama caste. Sure, no one outside the group cared about our bizarre "pecking order" - but getting a good part in the Musical was certainly worth the effort."I don't know, " she whimpered, "its really tough to get in.Do you think I have a shot?". "Of course I do!" I exclaimed.This girl was very popular, she always had a nice smile and had a head of long flowing blond locks. She was outgoing andfun to be around."Can you help me get ready?" she pleaded.Of course I couldn't say no.During the many hours we spent together I learned she had recently been dating Jeff.Most importantly, by spending time with Liza, I became part of the popular kids' entourage.Now accepted in their group, I made my move to get to know Jeff.
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High School Lessons Learned
I was a student in High School, and I was always ahead of my class in most subjects. The teachers all encouraged me, and often I went to their homes or offices for extra help for the extra special problems they gave me.
There was this beautiful black teacher, Mr. Laurence, and he was very helpful. I often went to his office after classes, and he would help me a lot with my school work. I was very attracted toward him, and as he was in his late thirties, and unmarried, I felt that maybe, just maybe we could work something out that was not related to our school work! Well, one day, I was sitting next to him in adjacent chairs. Mr. Laurence had just finished explaining a few points, and was about to get up. I looked pointedly at his crotch, and back to his face, then back to his crotch in a meaningful manner. Laurence asked," Hey, you seem thoughtful today." I replied that , " well, I was just thinking that you help me so much in my school-work, and I thought it was high time I returned the favor.."
Mr. Laurence didn't get it. he asked, " Now what do you want to help me with?"
I said," Oh, we'll work something out, never fear."
Just then, someone came to his office, and I left. This occurred a few more times, me flirting all I could, without bringing out the obvious words. Mr. Laurence seemed to understand what I was hinting, but he didn't allow it to happen, probably he was scared of the consequences.
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For some time I have been taking my re-cycling to a local collection site with two large metal bins for paper. I noticed that on a Monday morning when the bins were full, often there were porn magazines near to the top. I naturally re-cycled the magazines putting them in the car and then driving to work. The magazines were either in excellent condition or sometimes some of the pages were stuck together. Strangely enough the magazines that were 'stuck' often gave me a real thrill, knowing that someone just like me had wanked while looking at the mag. I used to try to open the mag at those pages to see what pictures had been used for the cum. Occasionally I would wank on another part of the mag and re-cycle again, hoping that the chain of re-cycling would continue.
I recently found about 30 hard porn mags in pristine condition. At the same time I picked up two soft-core mags with wavy edges (stuk up). When I got into the car I realised there was a smell of freshly wanked on pages. I opened one of the soft-core mags and was hit by the smell of spunk on glossy paper. As I got to the 'cum site' the spunk was so fresh it was running down the page. I touched the spunk and it was still warm! The depositor must of wanked on the magazine on his way out dropped it in the bin just before I arrived. I drove to work with the smell of spunk in the car and the hardest hard on I have ever had. As soon as I reached work it was straight into the toilet cubicle where I wanked on the same picture cumming in seconds. I let the mag dry and deposited it back in the re-cycling bin the following Monday. I hope it found its way to another collector. I'm not gay but I really like the idea of seeing another mans embellished magazine. Now I'm always on the look out for re-cycling bins.
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My Sicilian Father
This is a fictional story, a pure work of fantasy. None of the characters really exists.
This content is only intendet as pure entertainment, whose graphic descriptions are far from being acted out or approved by the author.
The story has been conceived and edited as a unique chapter. No continuation is foreseen.
My Sicilian Father
In the Seventies I used to live with my Sicilian family in a very small town not far from Palermo, the main city of Sicily, South Italy.
At the age of fourteen I was too young to understand in depth the meaning of the word "mafia" and what it meant to be a member of it. I could acknowledge how people normally considered it by attending my school classes or by watching our old and malfunctioning TV in our dining room at supper time. That's all.
Nonetheless, I knew very well that my father was one of them. He was no big fish, just a reliable collaborator, always ready whenever they needed a trustworthy hand. And so he was.
Besides that, he was father of four kids (I was the youngest one), had a beautiful and quiet wife (I almost cannot remember the voice of my mother) and a job in a little transportation firm. He used to travel up and down through Sicily and the rest of Italy with its truck, delivering goods, especially food from the South to the North of our Country.
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Jungle At War
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The Jungle at War....................................by justjames17
The Vietnam conflict had been going on for three years since America and her allies took over from the defeated French forces. It was an unwinable situation but the politicians couldn't admit they were wrong and this meant more and more fine young men were being thrown into the mill to be ground down and destroyed. It was a case of boys; mere teenagers being dragged from their comfortable lives rushed through a quick training program and shipped out to a foreign country where conditions were completely intolerable.
The jungle alone was an evil force, which sapped their energy gave them horrible diseases and hid the enemy who thrived in the conditions as they were born and bred there. Our troops were well armed but were fighting a losing battle under the extreme conditions; the air force was bombing the North daily and aircraft were spraying Agent Orange, an extremely nasty chemical defoliant, around the jungle trying to destroy the enemy's cover. All their efforts seemed useless as the determined Viet Cong continued their attacks, our patrols into the jungle met heavy resistance and their snipers gunned down many of our troops.
My unit, an Australian Infantry battalion, was trucked out to a firebase set up in the thick jungle near a small friendly village, we replaced the American unit that had set it up but had been annihilated when the Gooks attacked the position in the early hours of the morning. The enemy crept up on the outposts, silently slitting the throats of the sentries, allowing the main force to creep in and create mayhem at close quarters on the sleeping men. They had somehow avoided the claymore mines and early warning trip wires; it was suspected a spy had tipped them off to their positions; they stripped the base of weapons and ammunition.
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